Shadow Chaser (20 page)

“I was having bad dreams,” I muttered, recalling the walk along the gloomy corridors of the Master’s prison and the mysterious fiery snow of the primary world of Chaos, which the shadows had said was on the point of death.

A dream! It was only the latest dream in a never-ending sequence of nightmares.

“How are you? You came off worse than I did,” I asked Eel.

“I’ll survive,” he answered laconically.

Well, if a Garrakian says he’ll survive, then he will.

I tried to move my arms, but nothing came of it—some rotten lout had tied them good and tight behind my back.

“Don’t bother,” Eel chuckled, noticing me trying to test the strength of the ropes wrapped around my wrists. “It’s art fiber rope, not that easy to get out of. I fiddled with it for an hour, but it didn’t get me anywhere.”

Art is a kind of tree—stunted, twisted, and nothing remarkable to look at. But when its fibers have been properly processed, they make magnificently strong ropes. You can cut through them or gnaw through them, but you have to be extremely strong or extremely supple to snap them or twist your way out of them.

“Have they stuck us in a cell, then?” I mumbled rather dimwittedly.

I just couldn’t shake off the visions of my dreams. I couldn’t believe that the long walk through those underground corridors and the conversation with the shadows were just a nightmare.

“That’s right. The Nameless One’s supporters don’t seem very keen to invite us to a formal banquet.”

I looked round, trying to get a clearer idea of our place of confinement.

It had gray walls and a little window with bars up near the ceiling, dirty straw on the floor, and a solitary torch on the wall. At first sight it was a perfectly ordinary cell, not a very attractive place for a permanent residence. But there was one thing about it that was strange—in all my life, no one who had been in jail had ever told me that a cell needed to have two doors.

“Is the second a spare? In case the jailers lose the key to the first one?” I asked, trying to joke, despite the roaring that still filled my head.

The first door, which was wooden, and bound with narrow strips of steel, was directly opposite us. The second, which was completely made of metal, was on the left-hand wall of the cell and, unlike the first, it had a bolt here on the inside, not on the outside like any self-respecting prison door.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

He followed my glance and shrugged his shoulders awkwardly.

“I haven’t got a clue. Better pray to that Sagot of yours, ask him to help us get out of here.”

“I think we’ll be getting out of here soon enough, probably feet first.” I was in a grimly talkative mood. “What are the chances of the squad finding us before the Nameless One’s lads offload their surplus baggage?”

“If we were surplus baggage, they wouldn’t have bothered to snatch us, they’d have finished us off right there in the street.”

“True enough. They need us for something, but how long will that last? Kli-Kli got away, Sagot be praised, and I think enough time has gone by for Alistan and Miralissa to start doing something.”

We heard a cock crowing loudly outside the little window.

“We’re not in Ranneng,” said Eel, “we’re in the country, and Alistan is hardly likely to guess that he should look for us so far away from the walls.”

“What makes you think we’re in the country? Do you think there are no cocks in Ranneng?”

“Of course not, there are plenty, but I came round in the carriage, and before they knocked me out again, I managed to look out the window, and the landscape I saw was definitely not in a city.”

Aha. That’s nice to hear. Now we know for sure that the chances of finding us, in a cellar so far away from the inn, are nonexistent.

“You certainly know how to keep a man’s hopes up,” I sighed miserably.

All we could do was wait, hope for a miracle, and trust in Sagot and any other individuals who might be willing to help us. But the miracle was avoiding us, Sagot apparently couldn’t hear us, and those other individuals didn’t exist (at least, they were nowhere within a league of us). As the sailors from the Port City say, we had run firmly aground.

A bolt clattered and two men came in. The first was a short bald man of about fifty with broad shoulders, a purple nose, and icy blue eyes. He was wearing crumpled, grease-spattered clothes and a crooked grin plastered right across his repulsive face. The second visitor was … Loudmouth.

Alive and absolutely well.

For a second I couldn’t believe it was him, I thought it was some kind of apparition or ghost risen from the grave.

When Eel saw who had come to visit us, his face never even quivered. But his dark eyes narrowed.

“I’ll tear your heart out,” he hissed through his teeth.

“I shall try to be careful and not fall into your hands,” Loudmouth replied very seriously. “My apologies for the inconvenience that you have suffered.”

Still speaking in the same icy voice, Eel told Loudmouth to take his inconvenience and stuff it you-know-where.

“A pity,” the traitor said sadly. “I genuinely regret everything that has happened, but no one can choose his destiny. You have chosen your side and I have chosen mine.”

“And did you make your choice a long time ago?” I asked gloomily, finally spotting what Eel had noticed straightaway—a little ring on Loudmouth’s finger in the form of a branch of poison ivy.

Everything suddenly fell into place. He was the one who told the followers of the Nameless One where we were staying and where the Key was! And he must have helped them to track us down at the Nightingales’ house.

How cunningly this bastard had worked everything! Right under our very noses, and nobody had suspected a thing! How could anyone ever think that a Wild Heart would be a servant of the Nameless One? It would be like saying the sun was green and ogres were charming creatures.

When he said he was going to visit relatives, he’d told his accomplices about us and then gone back to the inn. After that it was all very simple. The Nameless One’s lads broke into the inn and shot the staff, Markauz and the warriors took shelter in the kitchen, and Loudmouth staged his own death and cleared out with his helpers and our Key. Who would ever have made the connection between a Wild Heart and the Nameless One? No one! And we would never have heard about Loudmouth again—he would have disappeared and our paths would never have crossed if the servants of the Master had not taken the Key from him.

“A very long time ago, Harold.” He laughed. “You can’t imagine for how many generations my family has been trying to help the lord return to Valiostr.”

“But you’re a Wild Heart. How could you do it?”

“Harold, I really do like you a lot, but don’t talk to me about the Wild Hearts. I only gave them fourteen years of my life because the Nameless One ordered me and a few others of the Faithful to do it.”

The servants of the Nameless One call themselves the Faithful? Ha!

“And are there many of you among us?” Eel asked in a voice that was monumentally calm.

“Very well, I will answer you, my old friend,” the traitor said with a smile. “You can know that now, and you know why?”

“Because you’ll never get out of this cellar,” said the man with the purple nose, finally opening his mouth.

“Shut up!” Loudmouth snapped at his companion, then addressed Eel again. “There were six of us. The eyes and ears of the Nameless One among the Wild Hearts. Surprised? You’d be even more surprised if you knew their names. I’ll tell you one of them, just for old times’ sake. You remember Stump, Captain Owl’s deputy? He was the leader of our group. Unfortunately the faithful one never returned from the Desolate Lands.”

“It’s a pity that you didn’t stay there with him,” Eel said in a dull voice.

This time the Garrakian was unable to disguise his true feelings. A hedgehog could have seen how shaken he was to discover that traitors had wormed their way into the Wild Hearts. It was unbelievable!

“I would have, if you hadn’t saved my life,” Loudmouth said with a nod. “Well, anyway, that’s all in the past, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk. In the meantime, I just came to visit and find out if there’s anything you need. Give them water.”

The final words were addressed to Purple Nose. Loudmouth walked toward the door, but I called to him.

“Loudmouth!”

“Yes, Harold?”

“Was it worth it?”

“Was what worth it? Fourteen years of life thrown away or serving the lord?”

“The second.”

“You don’t understand and you can’t understand. Not you, or the Wild Hearts, with whose tattoos I defiled my body. For you the Nameless One is evil. Pure, unadulterated evil, and nothing more.”

“My, what a fine talker you’ve become,” Eel muttered.

“You’re used to seeing Loudmouth whining and sleeping all the time, dissatisfied with the entire world, right?” He smiled again. “Loudmouth! If only you knew how sick I am of that name fit for a dog! For fourteen years I was a dog, for fourteen years I barked for your king. I have a name perhaps even more noble than the title that you conceal, Garrakian.”

“Noble birth won’t save you from me.”

“Anything can happen, but it’s not likely,” our enemy said with a frown. “As for your question, Harold, it was worth it. From the very beginning. If not for the Rainbow Horn, the Nameless One would have crushed the Stalkon dynasty long ago.”

“How can anyone hate a dynasty for all those hundreds of years? Your Nameless One really is insane.”

“The Stalkons made him what he is. They took the name of the finest magician of the Order and blackened it in the eyes of the people. Everyone turned away from him, everyone he loved. Including his own twin brother, his wife, and his children! He had no other choice but Kronk-a-Mor and immortality. And now he wants to take his revenge.”

“There’s no one he can take it on. They all died ages ago, and his brother Grok has been lying in Hrad Spein for a long time.”

“This conversation is not going to lead anywhere,” Loudmouth said with a shake of his head, and walked out of the cell.

“Loudmouth!” Eel roared, and I started in surprise.

“Yes?” Amazingly enough, he came back.

“Remember, I’m going to cut your heart out!”

He didn’t say anything, just glared intently at the bound Garrakian through slightly narrowed eyes, grinned crookedly and not very confidently, and went out again.

“Here’s your water,” said Purple Nose, putting two bowls down in front of us.

“And how do you expect us to drink with our hands tied behind our backs?” I asked him.

“Sorry, I’m afraid that’s not my problem. I’m not suicidal and I’m not going to untie your hands. Find yourself another fool for that. But I can give you a piece of advice: You don’t have to drink it, you haven’t got much time left anyway.”

“Why did you drag us all the way here? You could have finished us off in the street.”

“You ask Rizus that when he comes to count your bones.”

Purple Nose started walking toward the door.

“Hey, scumbag,” Eel called quietly to the jailer. The Garrakian’s voice simply oozed the contempt of a superior being for an inferior.

“Scumbag? Did
you
call
me
a scumbag?” said Purple Nose, clenching his fists.

He bounded across to the Garrakian, waving his fists in the air. Eel didn’t look away, and Purple Nose couldn’t bring himself to punch him.

“Do you want to know how you’re going to die?” Purple Nose asked with an evil laugh. “Your neighbors in the next cell are going to eat you. I’ll introduce you right now.”

Purple Nose walked across to the metal door and pulled the squeaking bolt open with an effort. Behind it there was a massive forged-iron grille, blocking off the entrance into the next cell. I was unpleasantly surprised to see something that looked like tooth marks on the lower part of the grille. Someone had tried very hard to gnaw their way through to freedom, and I disliked that someone very much indeed. It’s best to give creatures with teeth like that a wide berth.

Preferably at least a league wide.

“I haven’t fed them for three weeks, so there won’t even be any bones left. I’m leaving the door open so that you can enjoy looking at them. Once Rizus has had a talk with you, I’ll be glad to turn the lever in the corridor, the grille will rise, and someone will get eaten, heh-heh!”

Purple Nose gave that repulsive chortle again and left the cell.

“What’s in there, Eel, can you see?” I asked nervously.

“No, but I don’t like this.”

“I should think not, with a stench like that coming out of the place!” I agreed.

The smell coming from behind the grille made me feel a bit panicky. It wasn’t really all that harsh, there was only a slight whiff, but it was quite enough to put me on my guard.

That was the way rotten meat smelled. Carrion. Corpses.

“The sons of bitches have got one of the living dead in there!” I exclaimed in horror.

“We seem to have arrived at the same conclusion.”