Saving Thanehaven

“No.” He shakes his head. “That was the only way out.”

  “But there has to be a camera.” Yestin groans. He looks around for one as Lorellina slowly, dazedly, approaches the parapet.

  Noble suddenly notices how the blazing light seems to leach the color from her hair and gown. Or is she losing some of her gloss? Noble wants to apologize for everything—for Rufus, for her lost cousin, for his bad choice of escape routes—but he has to get back to defend the staircase.

  “Hey! Hey!” Yestin suddenly shouts. “You guys! Come here!”

  He’s on the other side of the turret, hidden from view. But the excitement in his voice is so encouraging that Noble and the princess scramble to join him. They find him pressed against the parapet, clinging to a long, dark, horizontal tube attached to a vertical stand. The stand is mounted on the balustrade. The tube is mounted on a pivot.

  “It’s the webcam!” Yestin squeaks. “Check it out! It’s working!”

  Noble blinks. For some reason, he was expecting something larger and more elaborate, like the steel-and-glass machine sitting inside. “That’s a webcam?” he asks.

  “Well—no,” admits Yestin. “It’s actually a telescope. But look.…” He presses his left eye against one end of the device. “You can see Rufus!”

  Noble gasps.

  “And Mikey,” Yestin goes on. “They’re both in someone’s bedroom.”

  As Noble grabs the telescope, Lorellina says, “Could it be one of those ‘recordings’?” She pronounces the last word carefully. “Are you sure this is happening right now?”

  “Oh, yes.” Yestin is adamant. “Because we’re looking through a webcam. It said so, downstairs. Besides, Rufus and Mikey are both really mad with each other.”

  He’s right. Peering through a small circle of glass, Noble finds himself watching two boys locked in furious combat. One of the boys is Rufus; the other is Mikey. The two of them are lurching around in front of an unmade bed, aiming kicks at each other. Their scuffle knocks a statue off a bookshelf. Then Rufus yanks himself free, pushes Mikey onto the floor, and retreats to one corner of the room while Mikey yells at him.

  There’s no sound, though.

  “I can’t hear!” Noble protests. He pulls away from the telescope, turning to Yestin. “What are they saying?”

  Yestin gives an apologetic shrug.

  “We have to listen! We have to know! This is important!” Noble gazes around wildly, but all he can see is a serene and timeless landscape rolling away in every direction. “I don’t understand—where is Rufus?” he demands, stepping aside to let the princess look into the telescope.

  Again, Yestin shrugs. “I don’t know how it works. A telescope is supposed to give you a close-up view of a distant object, but …” He trails off.

  “They seem to be arguing,” Lorellina observes. Then she adds, with a hint of satisfaction, “Rufus looks scared.”

  “In that case, maybe we don’t need to post our message.” Yestin perks up suddenly. “Maybe Mikey will threaten Rufus, and then Rufus will fix his computer!”

  “I think Mikey is threatening Rufus right now,” Lorellina declares. She’s addressing Noble, but he doesn’t answer.

  He’s had a flash of inspiration.

  “What about those machines in there?” he asks Yestin, pointing at the glass-walled turret. “Can we use any of them to hear what’s being said?”

  “Um …” Yestin hesitates.

  “What about the big one? What’s that?”

  “That’s a light.” Yestin stares at Noble for a moment before explaining, “This is a lighthouse. Didn’t you figure that out?”

  “A lighthouse?” says Lorellina. “You mean for ships?”

  “I guess so—except that it’s pretty high in the air for ships.” With a feeble attempt at humor, Yestin mumbles, “Maybe it’s for spaceships.…”

  “What about those other machines in there?” Seizing Yestin by the collar, Noble drags him over to a window. “In there! What do they do?”

  Yestin narrows his eyes. “That one’s a radio,” he announces. “At least—I think it’s a radio.”

  “You mean like the radio back in Brandi’s place?” Noble dredges up a memory of the mirror-lined closet stuffed with clothes. “The one that played music?”

  “Kind of.” By now, Yestin’s nose is pressed flat against the glass. “People used to talk to each other on radios. You’d have to have one, in a lighthouse.” With a quick glance up at Noble he says, “We should try the radio. We might hear something on that.”

  Noble doesn’t need any further encouragement. He hustles Yestin back inside, leaving the princess with her eye glued to the telescope. Soon Yestin is fiddling with a palm-sized gray box at the end of a wire. He turns a few dials and pushes a couple of buttons and suddenly the box makes a loud crackling noise.

  “… just tell me how you did it …” The voice that emerges from the box, though distorted by a kind of harsh buzz, is still recognizable as Rufus’s voice.

  “Did what?” Noble identifies this voice, too. It belongs to Mikey.

  “Don’t gimme that. You know what I mean,” the first voice insists. “Tell me how you hacked my computer!”

  Yestin and Noble exchange glances. “Rufus knows,” Yestin whispers. “He knows we’re in here!”

  “Shh.”

  “Maybe something happened back at the firewall!”

  But Noble flaps a hand to silence Yestin. It’s important that they hear what’s being said.

  “I’ll tell you how I hacked your computer if you fix mine,” comes Mikey’s fuzzy retort.

  “Promise?”

  “You’re a jerk!”

  “It was your fault! You lied to me! You said you weren’t gaming and you were!”

  “With a bunch of bad scorers! Because you always win! The rest of us need a chance to win sometimes!” There’s a long pause. Then Mikey says, “You’re crazy, you know that? I blow you off twice, and you think I’m dissing you or something! Grow up, Rufus!”

  During the brief, static-filled break that follows, Lorellina appears at the door. “Is that Rufus?” she wants to know.

  “Shhhh!” Noble and Yestin both hiss at her, just as Rufus mutters, “Sorry …”

  “Sorry’s not enough,” Mikey rejoins. “You’ve gotta fix my computer.”

  “Okay.”

  “NOW!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” There’s a crunching sound. “Have you turned it off?”

  “Of course!”

  “Well, gimme a second, okay? I’ve gotta upload something onto a USB, and then download it onto your computer. Are you all backed up, by the way?”

  “Oh!” Yestin squeaks. He begins to bob up and down, waving his arms. “Oh! Oh!”

  “Shhh!” Noble scowls at him, because Rufus is still talking.

  “No, listen! Wait! That’s it! That’s what—we just—the USB port!” Yestin gabbles incoherently. He’s dropped the little gray radio, which is now swinging and twisting at the end of its wire. “That’s where we have to go! Right now! The USB port!” When Noble just stares at him dumbly, Yestin tries to explain. “Rufus is transferring rescue data to Mikey’s hard drive! If we hitch a lift, we can get back home! But we have to leave now!”

  “Where is the USB port?” Lorellina queries.

  “I don’t know!” Yestin answers, “It can’t be far. We passed all those device drivers, remember? If we’re in the webcam, and the scanner’s next door, we must be close to the USB port!”

  Noble is already clomping downstairs. But an ominous noise soon stops him in his tracks. “Oh, no,” he says.

  “What?” Yestin rounds the corner behind him with such haste that the two of them nearly collide. Noble has already turned around.

  “Back,” he orders. “Go back.”

  “What?”

  “They’re coming!”

  Yestin doesn’t ask who “they” are. It doesn’t really matter. Whoever they are, they’ll be better equipped than Noble, who does
n’t even have a knife.

  On reaching the turret again, Noble searches frantically for a weapon. But there are no tools or pieces of furniture scattered about.

  Lorellina pounces on the radio, trying to wrench its wire out of the wall. Her face is ashen. “We could lie in wait, and strangle the first one who comes up here!” she says, her voice cracking on a high note. “Then we can throw him onto the others and push them all downstairs!”

  Yestin appeals to Noble. “Can we?” he quavers, his eyes already awash with tears. When Noble says nothing, he shrinks against the nearest window, wringing his hands.

  Noble steps up to the gigantic light in the middle of the floor. It’s large enough to block the stairwell—but is he strong enough to lift it off its platform? The bolts holding it in place look rusty and hard to shift, yet the light itself is made mostly of glass.…

  He puts down his key and his swipe card. Then he braces himself, wraps both arms around the light, and heaves.

  His veins bulge. His joints crack. He strains every muscle to snapping point.

  But nothing happens. The light doesn’t budge.

  “There is another way out,” says Lorellina. She points at the parapet, raising her voice over the noise from the staircase, which is getting louder and louder. “We can jump,” she adds calmly.

  “Wh-wha …?” For an instant, Noble thinks he’s misheard.

  But he hasn’t.

  “We can jump,” she repeats. “Would you rather perish at the hands of our enemies, or choose freedom at all costs?”

  “Ummm …” Noble swallows. Neither alternative appeals to him. On the other hand, he doesn’t have much time to make a decision.

  And then Yestin croaks, “You know what? That might actually work.”

  Noble stares at him in amazement.

  “Lorellina’s right,” Yestin continues in a hoarse voice, his hands trembling. “Jumping is another way out. It’s kind of like a door, don’t you think? And we’ve got a skeleton key that should work in every door.”

  “And we’d be jumping into water,” the princess adds. She darts forward and snatches up the AV’s key, though not the swipe card.

  “I heard one!” a rough voice howls. “She’s up there!”

  This cry acts on Noble like a goad. He rushes after the princess, who’s already holding Yestin’s hand. Together, the three of them burst out of the room, slamming against the parapet a split second later.

  Noble is feeling so confused—so dazed and disoriented—that he doesn’t take the key when Lorellina thrusts it at him.

  “You should have this,” she says.

  “But—”

  “You are the strongest, Noble. And Yestin is the wisest.”

  “And you are the bravest,” Noble adds, holding her gaze. At that instant, an armed figure pops into view beyond the turret window. He looks around and points at Noble.

  “Quick!” Noble cries, dipping his knees. “Get on my back!” As soon as he feels Yestin’s arms twine around his neck from behind, he wraps his own arms around Lorellina. Then he lifts her off the ground.

  “The key!” she shrieks. “Take the key!”

  But Noble is already stepping up onto the balustrade, staggering a little under the combined weight of his two friends. Yestin is whimpering into his ear. Lorellina is crushed against his broad chest. From the corner of his eye, Noble catches a glimpse of movement. He can hear people yelling.

  Since Lorellina’s face is tilted toward him, it seems logical to plant a kiss on her parted lips. After that, there’s nothing for him to do but step off the balustrade—and launch himself into thin air.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Noble barely has time to take a breath before he hits water. It’s as if he’s jumped off a lakeside jetty instead of a cliff-top lighthouse. The drop hasn’t killed him. It hasn’t even hurt him.

  That key must have worked, he decides, dazed but thankful, as a cold, choppy swell closes over his head.

  There’s nothing but liquid under his thrashing feet: no weed or rocks or sand. He’s still clutching Lorellina with one arm. With the other, he swims back up to the surface, salt stinging his eyes and Yestin’s weight dragging at his shoulders.

  Then, all at once, he feels the sun on his hair.

  He spits out a mouthful of brine, conscious that Lorellina is coughing and spluttering beside him. When she pulls away, he lets her go. There’s no point holding on to her, since she obviously knows what to do with her arms and legs. Yestin, however, is a different story. He’s almost strangling Noble, who cranes around to calm the boy—and sees something that gives him a huge shock.

  It’s a wooden pier attached to a quay. Noble can’t believe how close it is; just a few dozen paces to his left. Lorellina immediately splashes toward it, her green skirt billowing around her like a jellyfish. Noble spots a rusty ladder running halfway down the side of the nearest pier support, but knows that Lorellina won’t be able to reach the bottom rung. Her arms aren’t long enough, for a start. And since she’s still clutching the AV’s key, she has only one free hand.

  So Noble follows along in her wake, vaguely impressed that he can. His limbs know exactly how to move, even though he’s never swum a stroke in his life.

  “I can’t swim!” Yestin says, gurgling.

  “Just hold on to me,” Noble croaks, gently nudging his way past the princess. Then he braces one foot against the pier support, using it as a springboard to launch himself at the ladder. To his surprise, he manages to grab the bottom rung, despite the fact that Yestin is clinging to his back like a barnacle. But hauling himself up the next two rungs, hand over hand, leaves Noble winded and shaking.

  “Get off! Quick!” he barks at Yestin, tucking his chin into his chest. Yestin promptly scrambles over Noble’s head and climbs onto the pier, which is stacked with provisions and seething with people. Noble doesn’t notice them at first. He’s too busy helping Lorellina. Her sodden skirts are so heavy that she can’t make it to dry land on her own; she needs to be dragged and pushed and hoisted. But once he’s finally deposited her onto the pier, he quickly becomes aware of a vibration in the wooden boards underneath him.

  It’s the thrum of countless footsteps.

  He glances up to see a great crowd filing past. There are hard-hatted garbage collectors, slithering blobs, camouflaged soldiers, and machines that walk like men. There are trucks full of paper. Someone is carrying an armload of flags, and someone else is pushing a line of clashing silver carts, each with its nose shoved up the stern of the next one. There’s a wagonload of porcelain vessels, all of them labeled JAR FILE. There’s a black-winged, short-horned, slightly vaporous creature that looks like a demon to Noble.

  All of them are marching toward a massive gray ship that’s docked at the end of the pier. Two gangways are feeding the crowd into a hull that looms over it like a cliff face.

  “Here.” Lorellina is trying to return Noble’s key with an unsteady hand. “Go on. Take it.”

  Noble takes the key. Yestin announces, through chattering teeth, “This is it. This is the USB port.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I guess we were closer than I thought.” He points at a banner over the nearest gangway. “And that’s the rescue drive. See? It says so.”

  Noble studies the ship, then peers in the other direction, toward the quay. “What’s that thing over there?” he asks.

  “That’s a bus. We don’t want to get on that. We want to get on the ship,” Yestin assures him.

  “All right.” Noble stands up. As he helps the princess to her feet, she asks, “Is that ship heading for Mikey’s computer?”

  Yestin nods.

  “Will it be big enough?” She sounds skeptical. “There are so many of us!”

  Before Yestin can reply, Noble says, “Safety in numbers. We don’t want to attract attention.” Clutching his key in one hand and Lorellina’s elbow in the other, he stands poised at the edge of the throng for a moment, watching it
surge past. It isn’t until he spies several grubby, cheerful, red-faced men carrying lengths of pipe that he plunges into the crowd, with Yestin trailing after him.

  No one objects. The pipe layers are too busy discussing sockets. The ox behind Noble can’t seem to talk. Only when Noble arrives at the gangway does somebody finally ask him for identification.

  Noble gazes blankly at the uniformed figure barring his way. Then he feels Yestin’s elbow in his ribs. “Key!” the boy whispers. “Show him your key!” So Noble waves his key at the guard, who shakes his head and growls, “Antivirus? You’re in the wrong line. This is the data backup and restoration portal.” The guard gestures at the next gangway, where a squad of camouflaged soldiers is marching on board. “See those process killers? You want to get in behind them.”

  Noble mutters an apology and retreats through a knot of grumbling garbage collectors. Yestin and Lorellina follow him. They head for the second line, which doesn’t look as friendly as the first. Sharing space with the heavily armed “process killers” are people wearing black hats and coats, people clad from head to toe in shiny white suits, and people wearing blue paper caps, white smocks, and white paper masks over their mouths and noses.

  Noble doesn’t like the way these silent, sinister people keep eyeing him. He decides to hang back a little, until he’s able to insert himself behind three sooty men carrying brooms. They ignore him completely as they joke and laugh, though the dogs at their heels seem a little suspicious. Shuffling along in a cloud of soot, Noble can feel a pack of big, flop-eared hounds sniffing the backs of his knees.

  But they don’t snarl or bark—and neither does the guard at the second gangway. When Noble produces the AV’s key, he and his friends are waved straight onto the ship. They pass from sunlight into shade, carried along by a great tide of bodies. Soon, they’re wedged into a long, low passage full of masked faces and gloved hands.

  “Who are these people?” Lorellina whispers. “And why are they dressed so strangely?”

  Noble shrugs.

  “They’re from the quarantine unit,” a gruff voice remarks. “They’re dressed like that to avoid contamination.”

  Startled, Lorellina turns her head. The man beside her has a snorting, snuffling hound on a very short leash. He’s small and stocky, with a handlebar mustache and tweedy clothes. A gun of some sort is slung over his shoulder.