The Uncrowned King (6 page)

No time for this.

Fyn sprang to his feet. Running to the bolted doors, he thumped on the wood. 'Feldspar, it's me. Let me in.'

'Fyn?' A muffled voice came through the wood. 'Is it really you?'

'Who else?'

'A Merofynian Power-worker out to trick me.'

Fyn smiled. Trust Feldspar to be wary. But how could he convince... reveal something only he would know. 'I gave you the Fate, so you could join the mystics.'

There was the dull click of the bolt being drawn back and Feldspar flung the door open. Behind Fyn's friend huddled dozens of frightened boys.

'Are you hurt, Fyn?' Feldspar asked.

'I don't think so.'

'You're covered in blood.'

'It's not mine.' He looked down to find his saffron robe was black with blood. Disgusted, he pulled the sodden tunic over his head and let it drop. Now he wore only leggings and a knitted vest. He should be cold, but he felt nothing.

'The abbot!' Feldspar went to push past him, but Fyn stopped his friend. The sound of fighting on the stairs had suddenly ceased. Feldspar met Fyn's eyes with an unspoken question.

'The others must be dead,' Fyn said. 'We have to get the boys out of here and stop the sorbt stones from falling into Merofynian -' A shout cut him off and thundering boots echoed down the stairwell. 'They're coming.'

Fyn pushed Feldspar back into the sanctum.

A small boy tried to wriggle past them. Fyn only just managed to catch him.

'Let me go,' the boy cried. 'We'll all be killed!'

'There's no escape that way,' Fyn told him but the boy wouldn't listen. Without a word, Fyn threw the lad over his shoulder and darted through the archway. Feldspar dragged the doors shut, sliding the bolts home.

Fyn met Feldspar's eyes, and turned to find Joff surrounded by a sea of boys. Joff held a branch of candles, towering over the others. Although officially a 'boy' he was bigger at fifteen than Fyn. His Affinity had surfaced unexpectedly and he'd been faced with the choice of banishment or serving the abbey, which is what would happen to Piro if her Affinity was discovered. At least she was safe in the castle, Fyn told himself.

A stab of impatience flashed through him. He had to get the boys and the stones out of here so he could go to Rolenhold to warn his father of King Merofyn's treachery.

Did King Rolen know that Merofynians had invaded Rolencia? Had the warning beacons been lit?

The boy, who Fyn carried over his shoulder, wriggled and Fyn set him on his feet. No one spoke as Fyn surveyed the chamber. He estimated there were nearly sixty boys and young acolytes ranging in age from six to fourteen.

Booted feet pounded down the corridor and reached the sanctum's doors. Fyn heard shouting, and then the dull thump of weapon hilts striking the door, muffled by the thick wood.

'We're trapped,' a voice whispered.

'No.' Fyn rounded on the boy before the others could panic. 'Feldspar and I were chosen to serve the mystics master. We know the back way out of the inner sanctum.'

The boys' desperate eyes fixed on Fyn.

'But if they've taken the spiral stairs there is no way out of the abbey,' a skinny thirteen-year-old muttered.

Fyn held up the abbot's keys. 'Yes, there is. We're going into Halcyon's Sacred Heart.'

The boys gasped.

'It's forbidden,' the skinny one protested.

'Normally, but the abbot gave me the keys.' Fyn caught Feldspar's eye. 'He didn't want the sorbt stones falling into the hands of renegade Power-workers. Get the -'

Older boys anticipated the order, hurrying to the orderly shelves of stacked sorbt stones.

'Keep each pair together!' Feldspar shouted. 'If they're separated the active one will absorb all Affinity around it.'

The boys froze. Feldspar caught Fyn's eye. Sorbt stones were tools, but like any powerful tool they could be used to kill.

'You heard him. Take care,' Fyn prodded, then collected his thoughts. What else would they need? He didn't want to lose his way underneath the mountain. 'Bring all the candles you can find. I'll go ahead and unlock the passage.'

'What about Halcyon's Sacred Flame?' Joff asked.

Fyn glanced to the lamp which had been lit three hundred years ago when his ancestor, King Rolence the First, had gifted Mount Halcyon to the monks. It would be good to have a protected flame. 'Bring the lamp.' No one moved. 'Now!'

They scrambled, some grabbing sorbt stone pairs, some gathering candles, and others taking icons from their niches and tucking them inside their robes. Joff lifted one of the smaller boys onto his shoulders so he could unhook the lamp.

All the while, the enemy thundered on the door.

Feldspar's eyes flicked repeatedly from the busy boys to the door.

'I'll take the little ones now,' Fyn told him. 'Don't waste any time. They must have a renegade Power-worker with them. When he gets here we won't stand a chance.'

Little hands tugged on Fyn's leggings. Worried faces watched his every move. Lenny sidled up close. Like Fyn, he had been Master Wintertide's servant. Fyn had consoled Lenny as best he could when the old master died. Now he squeezed the boy's shoulder.

Feldspar glanced down to the little boys. 'Go, Fyn. We'll be right behind you.'

Fyn nodded and headed to the far side of the sanctum where a hidden passage led to a maze of private chambers known only to the mystics. Taking a lit candle from its bracket, Fyn led the way through several passages. He heard the soft shuffle of bare feet behind him and the occasional whimper of fear, followed by muttered words of assurance from the older boys.

As he recalled the route to the secret door to Halcyon's Sacred Heart, he decided it would probably be safe to use these lower passages. The abbey was huge and most of the Merofynians would be on the upper floors in the great public chambers, looting. The ones who had come down this low would be concentrating on getting into the sanctum to steal the sorbt stones.

A small hand slid into Fyn's and he looked down to see Lenny.

'I knew you'd save us,' Lenny whispered.

Fyn licked his lips. 'We're not safe yet.' He'd failed the abbot. He must not fail these boys.

Chapter Four

Fyn glanced behind him. All the little ones were with him and most of the bigger ones. Even as he watched, the last of the older acolytes spilled from the far door, milling in the corridor. Feldspar nodded, that was it. They were all out.

Fyn held up his candle and signalled for silence. The soft whispering stopped. In the ensuing quiet, he could just hear the deep shouts of men and the smashing of furniture and glass echoing down from far above. It sounded so wrong in a place where the clatter of busy boys and the chanting of monks were normally the predominant sounds.

'Follow me. Quickly now.' Fyn turned and hurried along the corridor, shielding the flame as he went. His slippers stirred up dust and he heard a few soft coughs behind him. Heart thudding, he led them down a flight of stairs and along another corridor. Down here the honeycomb caves had been adapted for use by the abbey. Down here it was silent, except for the rustle of their garments and the slap of their feet on the stone.

Fyn recognised the storeroom doorway where he had hidden only yesterday morning to watch as the abbot unlocked the secret entrance. It was forbidden to all but the masters. Then Fyn had been on a secret mission for the mystics master. How he wished that Master Catillum was here to advise him now. Strange, he had only come to know the youngest of the abbey's masters in the last few days but he missed him keenly. Grief tugged at him, for if he was right, and the rest of the monks had been lured into a trap, Master Catillum and the weapons master, and even Monk Galestorm who used to bully him, would all soon be dead.

'Is this it?' Feldspar asked.

Fyn realised he had come to a stop in front of the secret panel. He ran his fingers over the carvings, representations of Halcyon's bounty, the grain sheaf, the long-haired goat and more. There, that was the indentation for the key. Taller than the rest, Joff held the sacred lamp high so that Fyn could see what he was doing. The familiar scents of sandalwood and cinnamon filled the passage.

Even though the boys' frightened whispers urged him to rush, Fyn methodically tried one key after another until he heard the mechanism click and the panel slid open. A wave of relief rolled over him.

He straightened up, smiling at Feldspar and Joff, and whistled softly to get the boys' attention. 'Line up in pairs, one candle between every second pair. Remember... silence.'

They nodded, lining up as they would to march into prayer, from the youngest to the oldest.

'They're ready,' Feldspar whispered.

Fyn nodded, judging how much space the line of boys would take up. 'Lead them along the passage, turn left then left again and wait at the top of the stairs.'

Feldspar entered the passage but Lenny didn't move.

'Go on,' Fyn urged. 'I'll be right behind you.'

'Promise?'

Fyn nodded and Lenny entered the passage. The boys filed after him, jostling in their haste. Fyn glanced up and down the hall. As yet, no sign of pursuit.

When the last one had entered, Fyn checked the hall one more time and stepped inside, letting the weighted stone panel slide shut. He could hear the boys, whispering, arguing over who got to carry the lit candles.

Fyn cuffed the nearest. 'Quiet, pass it on!'

Thumps followed by silence rippled down the passage.

'You bring up the rear, Joff. I'll go ahead,' Fyn said, and pushed past the paired boys.

At the end of the passage he found Feldspar holding his candle high, peering down a flight of stairs carved from solid stone.

'I'll lead.' Fyn shielded his own candle. 'Wait here, Feldspar, and fall into line halfway along. Tell the boys to keep quiet. We're not safe yet.'

Feldspar nodded and Fyn headed down the steps, shielding the candle's flickering flame. Yesterday he had come this way in the dark, following the sounds of the masters. Now he counted and watched his step, ignoring side passages he hadn't realised were there. When the mystics master had made him memorise how to get to Halcyon's Sacred Heart, Fyn hadn't expected to be leading what was left of the abbey's boys and acolytes down here.

This second time the way felt much shorter, and it did not take long to reach Halcyon's Heart. Silent with awe, the boys fanned out as they entered the huge cavern. The boldest approached the kneeling monks, masters who had been mummified and painted with a preserving glaze, then honoured with a place in Halcyon's Heart. The mummified monks knelt on flat-topped stones, with the jars containing their organs arranged in front of them. Some had been here so long that the steady drip of Halcyon's mineral-rich water had encased them in a shimmering column of stone.

'Look,' Lenny cried in delight. 'It's Master Wintertide!'

Fyn strode over and grabbing Lenny's curious hand before he could touch the monk. 'Let him rest in peace.'

Fyn held up the candle. Several drops of the clear glaze had fallen down from the finger of stone above and trickled over Wintertide's face as if he was weeping. It would be many years before he was completely encased like the older monks. The candle, which had been left in his cupped hands, had burned down. Hidden in its wax puddle was Fyn's royal emblem. It could stay there, safe for now. It might give him away while he was trying to cross Rolencia.

'Master Wintertide looks happy. I miss him,' Lenny confided, then looked up at Fyn. 'At least we have you.'

'A poor exchange.' Fyn felt like a fraud. From across the cavern a boy spoke too loudly, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.

Feldspar joined them. He held up the Fate between them. It gleamed, an opal the size of a sparrow's egg, shaped like a spiral seashell. It hung on a silver chain. 'You might as well take this, Fyn.'

Fyn stared at the stone. During the Provings, he and Feldspar had found the Fate, ensuring their place with the mystics. Back then, he hadn't thought they would be saving it from renegade Power-workers before spring cusp.

'Halcyon's Fate?' Lenny marvelled. 'They say it can bring visions. Why didn't the mystics master take it with him?'

'Who knows?' Feldspar shrugged. 'Keep it safe, Fyn. I'm sure the mystics master would rather you had it than some Merofynian Power-worker.'

He was right but, first chance he got, Fyn intended leaving the abbey's survivors to warn his family. 'You take it, Feldspar. Your Affinity is stronger than mine.'

'But you had the vision when you found it,' Feldspar countered.

Fyn shook his head. He was going to leave them. He did not deserve the Fate. 'Keep it.'

'For now.' Feldspar slipped the chain over his neck and tucked the stone inside his robe.

'Uh, Fyn, there's only one way in and out of Halcyon's Heart,' Joff muttered. 'We're trapped down here.'

'It's worse than that,' Feldspar whispered. He glanced to the other boys and dropped his voice even further. 'There's a rich Affinity seep, here in Halcyon's Sacred Heart. It'll draw the Merofynian Power-worker. He'll find the entrance eventually. He'll force the lock.'