by Darren Shan
Orlan hums. “That’s right. But the way he acted convinced me I was wrong.”
“He fooled us,” Argate growls.
“There aren’t many who pull the wool over our eyes,” Orlan says with an icy smile. “You have my congratulations, boy.”
“I should have let you kill him,” Argate says.
“But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing him now,” Orlan snickers.
I’m close to tears. I was terrified of these two on the bridge and in Diamond, but that was nothing compared to how I feel now.
“Of course, we don’t need to kill you,” Argate says.
“That’s right,” Orlan concedes. “We’re only interested in the girl. Step away from her and we’ll let you walk.”
“Go,” Inez whispers.
“They might not mean it,” I wheeze.
“They’re many dreadful things, but not liars,” she says. “Truth is a badge of honour that they wear with almost psychotic pride. Go, Archie.”
I take an automatic step away, accustomed to obeying her orders. Then I pause, remembering a time not long after I came to the Merge, when we faced a savage hell jackal, and how she would have sacrificed herself to save me. I think about how lonely I’d feel if I was in Inez’s place and my closest ally walked away without even a farewell glance.
I drag my foot back. “If you want her,” I mumble, “you’ll have to go through me first.”
“As you wish,” Orlan sniffs.
“All the more work for my axe,” Argate purrs.
“How about you?” Orlan calls to the woman in the house. “Does your offer of assistance still stand?”
I catch the tearful woman shaking her head and mouthing the word, “Sorry.” Then she slams the window shut.
“Anyone else?” Argate roars.
The members of our team who’d advanced with their captain retreat in a shamed huddle. Nobody else says a word. To my surprise, Kurtis takes a few steps forward and starts to raise a hand. But then he lowers it and looks away, silent and ashamed.
“In that case...” Argate says cheerfully, and they advance again.
I glance at Inez one last time – her expression hasn’t changed – then brace myself for a short, futile battle, and a certain, grisly end.
19
“WAIT A MINUTE,” SOMEONE says, and a massive hand grips my shoulder. I look up to find a glowering Cal Riser towering above me.
Orlan and Argate stop.
“You plan to pit yourself against us?” Argate asks coldly.
“Why not?” Cal replies cheerfully. “If Old Man Reap can be whipped, his faithful curs can be taught a lesson too.”
Orlan and Argate look more startled than insulted.
Cal cracks his knuckles, then addresses the people who are watching. “We got the better of Old Man Reap and we can beat this pair too.”
“You struck lucky with our master,” Orlan snarls.
“But you won’t get lucky twice,” Argate adds.
“If you want us to prove that...” Orlan looks round at the SubMerged mixed in with the locals. “Will it be war?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at Cal. “Shall we pit our people against yours and see who comes out best?”
“Or will you give us the girl and let it end there?” Argate asks.
Cal glares at the smirking killers. “You’d do it as well,” he huffs. “Stand there and let dozens or hundreds be killed, your own along with mine.”
“If that’s what it takes to get what we want,” Argate says.
“I’m tempted to let you have your war,” Cal says thickly. “We’d not only give you a battle to remember — I think we’d defeat you.”
“If you’re that confident, what’s stopping you?” Argate asks.
“Inez,” Cal says, not bothering with her fake name any longer. “I can’t guarantee her safety if a fight breaks out, and that’s my first priority.”
“Perhaps we can –” Orlan starts to say, but Cal interrupts.
“There’s been enough talking.”
“Time for fighting, then?” Argate says eagerly, readying his axe.
“No,” Cal surprises him. “It’s time for me to prove I can chuck as well as block.”
As Orlan and Argate try to make sense of that, Cal picks up Inez and hurls her high into the air. She doesn’t seem to have been caught off guard, as she tucks in her arms and juts out her chin, to fly true like an arrow.
Orlan roars with rage, whips out a knife and launches it after her, but the knife buries itself in the wall of a house, while Inez soars higher and lands smoothly on the roof.
Orlan and Argate set their sights on Cal and snarl like tigers. Cal grins and flexes his fingers.
“I need Archie!” Inez shouts.
Cal grabs me before I can protest and throws me after Inez.
I yell with fright as I shoot up, arms flailing. I’m sure I’m going to smash into the wall and end up a blood-red bundle of torn flesh and broken bones, but to my relief I clear the edge of the roof, where Inez is waiting to grab me.
My first thought is for Cal, and I look back to see Orlan and Argate closing in on him, Orlan jabbing with his stiletto, Argate chopping with his axe. The axe cuts deep into Cal’s left arm and he yelps.
Then Inez pulls me away. “We’ve got to run,” she pants.
“But Cal!” I cry.
“We can’t do anything for him now,” she says, “and if we don’t make the most of this, his sacrifice will have been in vain.”
Tears pour down my cheeks, but I know Cal would curse me if I hesitated. So, wiping the tears away, I follow her across the roof to the other side, where we drop to the street and scurry off to lose ourselves in the bowels of the city.
FOUR — THE MISCHIEF
20
WE SLIP THROUGH THE streets swiftly, but don’t run, so as not to arouse anyone’s curiosity. After a while Inez tells me to cross to the other side of the road — that way, if Orlan and Argate ask people if they’ve seen a boy and girl together, the answer will be an honest no.
I don’t like being apart from Inez. I keep expecting the killers to lurch out of the shadows and whip her away. I stick to the edge of the path, ready to rush to her aid at the first hint of danger.
Inez takes streets at random, twisting and turning through the city. She moves up to higher levels too, making use of the walkways, weaving in and out of trees. She maintains a calm exterior. I try to mimic her, but I’m sweating nervously and I’m sure my eyes are twitching in their sockets. I’ve stopped crying, but fresh tears leak every now and then, when I reflect on what happened to the captain or worry about loyal, brave Cal.
I pass boreholes on just about every street. I’m tempted to pause, fiddle with a lock and step through into another zone. But if Inez is the princess (it was odd that nobody recognised her, but her face was still reshaping) then she has to cast her vote two days from now. She can’t let this realm fall into the hands of the SubMerged. I comprehend that better than ever, having seen what they did to the captain.
Inez eventually stops in the burnt-out shell of a tree in a deserted clearing. There’s not much of a smell, which makes me think the fire must have swept through here long ago. The stairs have been destroyed but we can climb inside fairly easily.
We come to the remains of a room on what would have been the fifth floor. Much of the flooring is still intact on this level, so we sit close to a hole that was once a window and stare at the view in silence. I see Canadu in the distance, valiant against the skyline. The city looks peaceful from here. You’d never guess that it’s a kingdom under siege, where cold-hearted killers have already started to cut loose.
Inez says nothing for a long time. Even though she was more composed than me on the streets, I see tearstains on her cheeks, so she must have been crying too.
“That poor man,” she eventually sighs, and I know she’s referring to the captain.
“At least it was quick,” I mutter.
“Yes,
” Inez says. “He has that much to be thankful for.”
“Do you think Cal...?”
Inez shudders. “I promised to find someone worthy for him to serve.”
“A princess,” I nod. “It was Princess Ghita, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says and looks at me. I think this is it, the moment when she’s going to tell me that she’s really the princess, but then she shakes her head and looks out the window again.
Night falls. The city lights up, the noises of the day gradually die away, and the hours start to pass slowly and quietly.
“I wonder what the thesps are doing?” I murmur when I hear a group of people walking by somewhere in the near distance, singing as they stroll.
“Having a busy night answering questions,” Inez says.
“Will they get into trouble?” I ask anxiously.
“For sheltering you and me? No, they didn’t know who we were, except for Dermot, Maiko, Oleg and Baba Jen.”
“What was her role in this?” I ask. “I was always curious about that. Can you tell me?”
Inez sighs. “I suppose it makes no difference now. Baba Jen lived in Ruby when she was delivered.”
“She was SubMerged?” I can’t say it’s a huge shock.
“She was kidnapped in the Born,” Inez says, “and was killed along with her kidnapper while he was trying to escape with her. He looked after her when they came here. They lived in Ruby for decades, until she decided that way of life wasn’t for her and moved to a Merged realm. She’s worked against the SubMerged before, and was happy to volunteer when I asked for assistance.”
“What sort of assistance?” I ask.
“She was going to be remoulded to look like me,” Inez says, “so that she could be my decoy when I snuck into Canadu.” Inez turns to face me. It’s gloomy in here, and I can only see the brief outline of her features, but her eyes are shining, caught by a ray of light from somewhere outside. “I have to be present at the vote.”
“I know,” I say.
“There are two key obstacles — getting into Canadu, then making it to the top of the tree. There are lots of guards on the entrance. My co-conspirators – the people I tried to meet up with when we arrived in Cornan – might have been able to sneak me in, but even with their help I’d have needed a distraction.”
“Baba Jen,” I breathe.
“She was going to tweak her height and appearance,” Inez says. “It normally takes ages to stretch a person, but she’s been remoulded before into taller shapes, and it’s quicker when you’ve gone through the process a few times. She’s been studying me while we’ve been with the thesps, practising to get my movements and expressions right. We were going to time it so that Baba Jen would show up as I was about to enter the palace. There will be agents among the guards who know what I look like.”
“They’d have attacked her,” I whisper.
“And I’d have tried to slip in during the disturbance,” Inez nods. “It would have been much easier with my accomplices. A couple were guards who’d have been on duty. Without them, it was a much hairier proposition.”
I frown. “But even if you’d snuck in, how would you have got up to the Cuckoo’s Nest? There’ll be guards on the stairs, surely.”
“Yes,” she says, “but I didn’t plan to use the stairs. I had a different conspirator for that leg of the invasion. I still do.”
She winks at me and the light begins to dawn. “You told me there were lots of vines inside the tree which a person could crawl through, but Kurtis said they’d all been blocked years ago. They put a lock on every vine.”
“That’s one of the reasons I needed you,” Inez says. “There are several vines I could get into, but they’re sealed. Even highly skilled locksmiths aren’t supposed to be able to unseal them, but –”
“– Winston said I could help,” I babble, getting excited now that I can see my role in this. “He told me there’s a special lock that you need me for. He was talking about the lock in the vine, wasn’t he?”
“No,” Inez surprises me. “Getting to the Cuckoo’s Nest is only half the battle. There’s another lock that comes into play later, but the vine lock was crucial too.” She sighs. “Not that it matters now. We aren’t even going to make it into the lobby.”
“Why not?” I cry.
“My cover’s blown,” she reminds me.
“But they don’t know about your plan,” I argue. “We can return to Lot 173T. You can be remoulded again, with a different face, and Baba Jen can...”
Inez is shaking her head. “We can’t go back. The SubMerged will be interrogating Dermot and the rest of the thesps. Even if they don’t cart the troupe away, they’ll keep a close watch on them. It’s over, Archie. We’re finished.”
And fresh tears drip down her cheeks as she abandons hope and resigns herself to a bitter, crushing, realm-damning defeat.
21
THE NIGHT LENGTHENS and my eyelids start to grow heavy. I try to stay awake, but then Inez yawns and lies down, so I figure I might as well give in and have a nap too. I look around for a good spot to snooze, but I’m so tired that I fall asleep sitting up while looking.
I jolt awake some hours later, still in that same position. Inez is sitting nearby, awake again, staring at the palms of her hands while no doubt trying to think of a way forward. I’ve been thinking about that too, even while I was sleeping, and start lobbing ideas at her in the middle of yawning, before I’ve properly woken up.
“Maybe we could get someone else to be remoulded, and they could serve as the distraction.”
Inez shakes her head. “I have friends I could ask, but it would take too long to remould them. Plus we’d have to find someone to play you — now that you’ve been clocked by Orlan and Argate, their allies will be watching out for you.”
“What if we hire someone to sneak into camp and bring Baba Jen to us?” I try again a few minutes later.
Again, the shake of the head. “The SubMerged will keep the thesps under wraps until after the vote. No one will be able to get in or out of the lot.”
I chew my lip, refusing to let the plan perish. “We could disguise ourselves. Dye our hair, paint our faces, wear different clothes. They’ll expect an intricate remould. We might fool them if we go a simpler route.”
Inez doesn’t dismiss the idea immediately. “That’s one to consider. I can’t quit. Even if it’s hopeless, I have to try. Do you still want to try with me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I huff.
“Now that you know how slim our chances are...”
I wave that away. “I’m in this to the end, whatever the odds.”
Inez’s eyes fill with tears again, like they did before we fell asleep, but they’re happy tears this time.
“Don’t turn into a gibbering wreck,” I growl uncomfortably.
She laughs. “At least Kurtis won’t get into too much trouble now.”
“You’re worried about the would-be duke?” I ask with disbelief.
“I felt bad involving him,” she says. “He’s a nice guy. Did you see the way he almost stepped in to help us?”
“Almost,” I sniff. “That’s the key word.”
“It took a lot for him to even do that much. If Orlan or Argate had seen him showing the slightest sliver of support for us...”
“That wouldn’t have bothered me,” I say stiffly, then frown. “What did you mean when you said you felt bad for involving him?”
Even though it’s dark in here, I see Inez blush. “I knew who Kurtis was the first time we met. I’d seen him at a function years ago, with his uncle Noah.”
“You were playing him!” I exclaim.
Inez winces. “I knew he’d be attending the vote. If he’d offered to take me as his guest, I might have been able to slip past the guards without a distraction — the SubMerged aren’t suspicious of their own nobles, so they wouldn’t have paid much attention to a guest of Duke Noah’s.” She sniffs and points a finger at me. “You criti
cised me for spending time with Kurtis instead of focusing on a plan B. Well, Kurtis was that plan B.”
I stare at Inez, feeling guilty but also happy. “You don’t have the hots for Kurtis,” I hoot. “You were using him.”
Inez looks sour. “It’s nothing to be proud of.”
She feels bad about what she’s done, but I can’t stop beaming. To hide that from her, I look out of the window and act as if I’m focusing on Canadu. I push myself forward and prop my elbows on the crumbling windowsill, to stare at the massive tree while I wait for my gleeful grin to fade.
As I’m staring at Canadu, rising majestically above the other trees, there’s movement close by. It’s a vine rat, a scrawny girl, cheerfully scurrying along as if this was the middle of the day rather than the dead of night. She doesn’t see me and snaps out of sight in an instant.
Jogged by my sighting of the rat, my thoughts turn to Winston and his parting riddle. If he comes to the vine at the end of the line, a wise dog barks. Once again I try to work out if there was a hidden meaning, if there might be anything in those words that could prove of use to us in our current predicament.
But although I try to focus on Winston, something keeps driving me back to the rat. She reminded me of someone else, and I find myself flashing on an image of a cheeky, grinning boy. For a while there’s nothing more, just memories of when we met, and how I came to his aid when he ran into trouble. But then I fix on an image of a returned typewriter, and a little bell pings inside me.
Suddenly, as simply as that, everything clicks.
“Inez,” I say, turning from the window to face her.
“Hmm?” she replies absently.
“I might have just had a very good idea,” I mutter shyly, then start to talk her through my quickly forming plan.
22
WE’RE DEEP INTO THE night and both exhausted. I want to sleep some more and wait until morning before proceeding, but an excited Inez is adamant that we have to act now.
