Arcturus looked down at his body, where the crusted red-brown blood had dried against his upper chest and stomach. There were no wounds, and now he realized that Edmund had stopped him from dying with a healing spell.
He tried to stand, but a sudden rush of dizziness took him, and he fell to one knee. Elaine helped him to his feet and he gave her a weak smile.
“You lost a lot of blood,” Edmund croaked from beside him. “It took me a while to get to you.”
“A hell of a lot,” Prince Harold said, and now Arcturus could see he was holding Edmund up, just as Elaine was doing with him.
Edmund’s eyes were unfocused, and his breathing seemed labored. Even though he was awake, he needed a doctor, and soon.
“Don’t ever do that again,” Elaine said, giving Arcturus a soft punch on the arm.
Arcturus looked for Sacharissa, and in his mind he could sense her running back, realizing he was safe. She was furious at him for forcing her away from him, but her relief was so palpable that Arcturus found himself grinning stupidly.
“Thank you,” Arcturus said, clasping Edmund’s limp hand. “You saved my life.”
“Yes, yes,” Zacharias snapped, ceasing his pacing to glare at them. “We’re all so glad you’re alive, Arcturus. But you’ve not saved us yet. There are a few hundred damned rebels between us and the front doors, and even if we manage to get out of here, their horsemen will catch up to us long before we reach Corcillum.”
Arcturus looked to Prince Harold, and the prince nodded reluctantly.
“We’re between a rock and a hard place,” he said. “Even Ulfr doesn’t know what to do.”
He motioned with his head over his shoulder, where Arcturus could see the dwarf sitting on Edmund’s cart, his face dark and brooding. Beneath him, Gelert was curled up, his dark eyes focused on his master.
“With our spells and demons and these tight corridors, we might just manage to fight them off,” Arcturus said, thinking aloud. “Maybe we don’t need to leave at all. At least, not until your parents rescue us. They could fly the Celestial Corps in, blast a hole through the walls.”
“No spells,” Alice said, shaking her head. “They drained us when we came in here.”
“Drained you?” Arcturus asked.
“They used a charging stone on us,” Prince Harold said, lowering Edmund to the ground. The young noble groaned with pain and closed his eyes.
“It’s a bit like a fulfilmeter,” Alice explained. “When you press one onto a summoner’s skin, it absorbs and stores the mana within itself to be used later. They forced us to fill it with our mana. We’re just lucky they didn’t do it to Edmund—he was so weak they were worried it might kill him.”
“So nobody has any mana left,” Arcturus groaned. “We’re—”
Arcturus’s words caught in his throat, because suddenly a furry ball of muscle erupted from the corridor and tumbled him to the floor, licking his face all over.
He could not help but laugh, and gave Sacharissa a tight hug. He buried his face in the fur of her neck, taking comfort in her solid presence.
“Thank you,” Arcturus whispered. “For listening.”
Even as he spoke, the licking suddenly stopped and the demon flounced off, giving him a reproachful look and leaving him with a drool-covered face. She was still upset with him, but the anger had been replaced with hurt.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered.
She went to curl up beneath Ulfr’s cart, her tail between her legs. Gelert dutifully made room for her.
“We’re never going to get out of here,” wailed Josephine, finally stirring from her corner.
“At least we’re all safe,” Arcturus said.
“Not all,” Alice said. “Sergeant Caulder.”
Arcturus felt a wave of guilt. He had all but forgotten the brave sergeant who had escorted the other team.
“Where is he?” Arcturus asked, dreading the answer.
“They’ve got him locked away somewhere,” Prince Harold replied, giving Arcturus a grim look. “They were questioning him.”
“You mean torturing,” Arcturus said.
Prince Harold did not reply, only nodded his head sadly.
“The bastards,” Arcturus said.
There was a miserable silence, broken only by the sound of Zacharias’s ceaseless pacing.
“What about flying demons?” Ulfr called from behind them. “We need to get a message to your parents that we’re free.”
“They’ll have recaptured us long before rescue arrives, you fool,” Zacharias said. “If you’re going to make suggestions, make sure they’re not stupid ones first.”
Ulfr bridled at the insulting tone, but Prince Harold held up a calming hand.
“Please, be civil, Zacharias,” Prince Harold said, shooting Zacharias a warning look. “But it is a risk to send a rescue request, at least, not until we are safe. If we sent for rescue and were recaptured before they came, there would be a fight and they would kill us before our parents got to us.”
Prince Harold slumped to the ground beside Edmund, pressing his thumbs to his temples.
“There’s got to be a way out of this,” he groaned.
“We need to figure out how to walk past the guards without being stopped or questioned,” Arcturus said. “And somewhere to hide nearby, where they can’t catch up to us once they realize we’re missing.”
“Why not add a damned pot of gold and a thousand soldiers to the list?” Zacharias snorted. “You’re dreaming—we’re screwed. Our best hope is to lock ourselves in one of these rooms and hole up until this all blows over.”
“Arcturus will think of something,” Elaine said confidently.
Arcturus was thinking.
Soldiers.
They couldn’t walk out alone, and disguising themselves with hoods was too risky, even if they did manage to get hold of enough uniforms for all of them. But if they had an escort of soldiers … it would be as if they were being taken somewhere more secure. They could walk right out the front door.
And lucky for him, he already had a group in mind.
CHAPTER
47
“YOU’RE AN IDIOT,” ULFR said.
Arcturus had just finished explaining his plan, and even Elaine looked skeptical.
“It’s the only way,” Arcturus replied.
“The Twenty-Fourth will be even harder to break out than we are,” Zacharias snapped. “There’s a hundred damned crossbows pointed at them.”
“But they’re soldiers, not prisoners,” Arcturus argued. “As far as the rebels know, they captured four of us and handed us right to them.”
“Even if Ulfr did manage to get to them, they’ve already said they don’t want to take sides,” Alice said, shaking her head. “It’s a huge risk for them to march out with us. What if someone stopped them? What if Crawley saw them? Or a rebel asked them where they were taking us? I assume Crawley hasn’t given them permission to leave the summoning room yet.”
It was true, and it was a fact that Arcturus had chosen to ignore. In all honesty, he had not thought the plan through, but it was the best he could come up with.
“Does anyone have any better ideas?” Arcturus asked.
“We lock ourselves in here,” Zacharias said, finally joining the circle. “Take cover behind the cart, aim the crossbows at the door and summon our demons for battle.”
“Then what?” Arcturus asked.
“We send Elaine’s Mite with a note explaining our situation to our parents,” Zacharias said, “telling them where we are. They can send a demon to scout ahead. If we’re recaptured, they won’t attack. If we’re still holed up, they can rescue us.”
“But we will be recaptured,” Arcturus argued. “We’ve got a couple of hours at most before they discover our guards are missing. We may take many of them with us but they will beat us eventually, and some of us will die in the process. Your parents can’t help us here.”
“The rebels will be too sc
ared to fight us,” Zacharias snarled.
“Don’t you get it?” Arcturus snapped. “We are their entire plan. Us. Our captivity is the only thing that’s preventing every summoner in Hominum from tearing this place apart. Without us, the rebellion is finished. Trust me, as soon as they find out we’re in here without a crossbow aimed at our heads, every rebel in the building will be pouring through that door.”
“It’s a better plan than yours,” Zacharias retorted. “We can hold out long enough, I’m sure of it.”
But Prince Harold was shaking his head.
“We would be better off surrendering before they start breaking down the door,” he said. “We would be throwing our lives away for nothing.”
“So we do that, then,” Zacharias said. “But none of this breakout nonsense.”
The noble was breathing heavily now, and he glared at Arcturus, daring him to disagree. Despite his lack of support, Arcturus felt his confidence grow. A royal prince, taking advice from a lowborn bastard. They were no better than him.
In the gloom behind, Ulfr spoke.
“I know a place,” he said.
“To barricade?” Prince Harold asked.
“No. Outside,” Ulfr said, pointing at the windowless wall on the far left, where an arrow slit had been bricked up with smeared mortar. “Somewhere we can hide before the rebels catch up with us. Even the hunting dogs will have trouble finding us.”
“Where?” Arcturus asked excitedly.
“Underground. It’s a secret place. Not far, as the crow flies.”
“Fat lot of good that does us.” Zacharias smirked, returning to his pacing. “We’re not getting out of here.”
“Shut up, Zacharias,” Harold snapped, his patience wearing thin.
Zacharias held up his hands in mock surrender, but remained silent.
“How can we convince the soldiers to help us?” Elaine asked. “Maybe Harold can offer them a reward or something.”
“It won’t work,” Harold said. “They already knew there would be a reward for helping us, but chose to remain neutral. What we really need is to force them to choose a side. And a way of making Arcturus’s plan less risky for them.”
He gave Arcturus an apologetic smile, and Arcturus waved it away.
“Crawley,” Alice suddenly said, looking up. She was cradling Edmund’s head in her lap, and had been stroking his forehead. The boy seemed oblivious to the conversation.
“What about him?” Arcturus asked.
“If Crawley’s with us, nobody will question them,” Alice said. “We could capture him. Put a knife to his back or something.”
“He scares the hell out of me,” Elaine agreed.
Arcturus considered it. They were really only trading one risk for another, but it took the pressure off the Twenty-Fourth if they managed to pull it off.
“All right.” He nodded.
“I’ll have to come with you,” Prince Harold said.
“You’re the most recognizable of us all,” Edmund said, turning his pale face up to the young royal. “Why?”
“Because the Twenty-Fourth need to hear their prince ask for their loyalty,” Harold said, tugging a hooded cloak from one of the fallen guards. “Not a desperate commoner and a servant. When the time comes, they’ll be given a choice between helping you, or Crawley. It isn’t fair or right, but they need a better alternative.”
Arcturus considered him for a moment, watching as the prince slipped the hood over his face and took up a crossbow of his own. In the dim light of the room, he could have been any other rebel.
“Fine,” Arcturus said, struggling to his feet. “You can come with me.”
“And me,” Alice said.
“No,” Arcturus said. “You’ve got a broken arm. Plus, you’re a woman.”
“I beg your pardon?” Alice said, her eyes blazing.
“Sorry, what I mean is, there’s fighting ahead if we’re to capture Crawley, and there are barely any women among the rebels,” Arcturus explained hastily. “At least from what I saw. You’ll stand out more, and your arm won’t let you fight. It has to be me and Harold.”
“Fine,” Alice said, kicking at the paved ground with her toe.
“You’re weak,” Elaine said, tugging at Arcturus’s sleeve. “Zacharias should go.”
“And go along with this mad scheme? Not likely,” Zacharias said, crossing his arms.
“It’s fine, we’ll need my nose anyway,” Arcturus said, pulling his bloodied shirt over his head and using it to wipe away the worst of the blood. “I might be able to smell Crawley out. We should hurry though.”
With Alice’s help, Arcturus managed to remove the shirt from one of the dead guards. It smelled of sweat and charred cloth, and was at least two sizes too large for him, but he cinched it beneath his belt.
“Good luck,” Edmund said, forcing a weak smile. Arcturus grasped the noble’s hand, and winced at how cold and clammy it felt. The boy needed help soon.
“Come on,” Harold called, already in the corridor. Ulfr followed, his face grim with apprehension.
Arcturus ordered Sacharissa to stay and protect the others, and received a reluctant acceptance in his consciousness. Then he was gone into the gloom. Gone to catch a traitor.
CHAPTER
48
THEY STOOD AMID THE puddled blood, where Arcturus had fought his battle with the three guards. It was sticky underfoot, and Arcturus tried not to look at it as he closed his eyes and concentrated.
Again, his head was filled with the cacophony of conversations, mixed with the snores of a hundred men. The sounds swirled around him in a deafening hum.
He took in the smell of sweat, and the metallic, bitter scent of blood from below. It was overpowering and he struggled to sift beyond it and seek what he was looking for.
Cologne. The same cheap perfume Crawley had used to cover the reek of gasoline. This would have been after he had set fires in Corcillum, if Arcturus had guessed correctly. It was there, on the very edge of the myriad of fragrances seething around him.
Then he heard it. Another roar of pain, the same one he had heard in the corridor after his battle. Only this time he knew who it was.
Sergeant Caulder.
Torn between the mission and his pity for the grizzled sergeant, Arcturus felt his mind would split in two as he sought to pinpoint the smell.
“There’s only one way,” Harold said, propelling Arcturus along with a gentle shove. “We can’t wait here all day. Work while we walk; the smell will only get stronger.”
Arcturus could not argue with that logic, so he walked on. Now the gloom no longer shrouded them, Arcturus felt as vulnerable as a newborn baby as they walked brazenly into the light. Already he could see men peering at the trio as they walked by, the many doors on either side still left open.
Thankfully, a good number of the rebels were asleep now—they were clearly working on some kind of shift system, and Crawley or General Barcroft must have ordered them to use the corridor to create a gauntlet of men on the way to the provost’s office and the prisoners.
Still, Arcturus’s heart beat so hard he felt he might faint as they walked down the corridor, though whether that was from nerves or the blood loss he did not know. Regardless, they made it past Barcroft’s quarters undisturbed, stopping at the dead guard propped against the wall. Arcturus felt sick once more, but it was a part of the corridor where there were no nearby rebels, where it was least risky to stop.
Again he concentrated, and now that there was no blood he could smell the cologne, almost like a trail in the air. The sound of Sergeant Caulder’s pain had been reduced to a low moan, barely audible above the clamor of voices around him. And then he realized that the sound and the smell were coming from the same place.
“I think Crawley is directly below us,” Arcturus whispered.
“Follow my lead,” Ulfr said, “and, Prince, do not speak unless absolutely necessary. Your accent will give you away.”
Ulfr strode
ahead before they had a chance to reply, so instead they hurried after him. A sleepy rebel stumbled by, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Arcturus withdrew deeper into the hood, until he could only see the ground and Ulfr’s hobnailed boots, stomping their way toward the atrium.
“Come on,” Ulfr growled. “Mr. Crawley doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
He was speaking for the benefit of the rebels around them, for suddenly Arcturus was walking down the winding staircase, catching a glimpse of the iron railings of the atrium’s floors on either side. He knew the crossbow men were behind him now, still lined up in the shadows, and wondered at the discipline these men showed to keep so still and silent. These must be soldiers, well trained in the art of ambush and warfare.
It meant one thing—each and every one of them would be deadly with a crossbow. If they had to fight their way back, it would be like walking into a swarm of steel-tipped death.
They turned onto the new floor. Arcturus was filled with blessed relief when they passed into the confines of the corridor, away from the next row of waiting crossbowmen. This time, almost all the doors were closed.
“Is it this one?” Ulfr asked, and Arcturus was forced to pull back his hood to see the dwarf pointing at a steel-braced door.
Arcturus took a deep sniff and nodded.
“Sergeant Caulder too,” he whispered.
“What’s the plan?” Prince Harold asked.
“I was kind of hoping you’d have one,” Arcturus replied.
“Crossbows,” Ulfr said. “Crossbows and confidence.”
Then he kicked open the door.
Inside was a small, dark chamber, almost no larger than the storage room Arcturus had been kept in. There was a single source of light—a flickering candle on a low table, illuminating a row of gleaming implements on a red cloth beside it.
There were the dim shapes of two men in the room, standing on either side of a third man, tied to a chair. Arcturus aimed at the man closest to him, and Harold did the same.
“Took you … long … enough,” the third man gasped.