“Get in, and I’ll lower you down.” He glanced over the side. In the dark, it was impossible to see the water, but he could hear it splashing down in the depths of the well.
Clemency was staring behind her in panic.
“The first thing they teach you where I live is never, ever to fall down a well,” she said nervously.
“You aren’t falling, exactly,” said Ven, watching the same place. “You’re jumping. And if you don’t, you’re going to be caught again. Go for it, Clem—there’s no other choice.”
Ida shoved past her, stepped over the knee-wall, and jumped. A splash echoed up the well from below.
“You all right down there, Ida?” Ven called.
“Ducky,” came the disgusted voice. “Just ducky. It’s cold as a witch’s—”
“I’m lowering Saeli down to you,” Ven interrupted. “Catch the bucket and try to stay quiet. Clem, you’re next. Now or never.”
The curate-in-training sucked in her breath. “Very well.” She climbed over the edge, then struggled to let go, finally doing so and shrieking a bit until she splashed.
“Try and keep to the edge, so as not to swamp the girls, but don’t hit the sides with your head,” Ven said to Char.
Char nodded. “Now for it, I guess.”
At the end of the street, they could hear the first of the thieves round the corner in the darkness.
Ven nodded in return, and the two boys climbed over the wall and dropped into the water at the base of the well.
* * *
Even though I had warned Char not to hit the edge, I did it myself, bruising my hand. It probably would have been worse, but the water was so cold that I couldn’t feel it anyway. It closed over my head, shocking me, until I bobbed to the surface.
Everyone else seemed to be floating, Clem clinging to Saeli’s bucket. I couldn’t see anything but their outlines, but I could tell from their ragged breathing and the chattering of their teeth that they wouldn’t survive long here in the freezing water.
Nor would I.
* * *
“Move to the sides if you can,” Ven said, his jaw shivering as he spoke. “Stay up against the edges of—the well and out of the center. If they look, they will—be—less likely to—see you.”
The shouts of the members of the Raven’s Guild were growing closer now. It seemed like the entire Inner Market had emptied out into the streets. Even down in the well Ven could see the shine of torchlight as the thieves combed the alleyways, turning over carts and crates and piles of trash looking for them.
He clung to the wall, trying to keep track of the others. The street was filled with traveling lights now, casting shadows all around above them.
As he was looking up, one flash of firelight fell inside the well for just an instant. In that instant, Ven caught sight of something strange.
About halfway up the well’s wall there was an opening with a thin ledge, like a tunnel built just above the highest place where the water reached. Ven could see the watermark on the well shaft, ten or more feet above them. I wonder if that’s a drain of some sort, he thought, for use when the water table gets high in the spring. Then the person carrying the torch moved down the street, and the light was gone.
He reached over in the dark and grabbed for Char’s shoulder. His friend was shaking with cold, treading water and trying to help Ida keep afloat. He pointed to the opening, now little more than a dark archway.
“Whaddaya think, Char?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice from echoing up the well. “Can we get up there?”
The cook’s mate followed his finger, then shook his head.
“There’s no handholds in the wall,” he said. His voice was filled with despair. “I don’t know how we’re gonna get out o’ here, Ven. We may have done ourselves in by jumpin’ down here.”
“We can haul ourselves up the rope on Saeli’s bucket,” Ven said, but even as the words came out, he knew they were unrealistic.
“That’s barely looped around a spike in the knee-wall,” Char answered quietly. “It would never hold anyone’s weight but maybe hers.”
Ven’s stomach tightened at his friend’s words. He looked around for a hole in the well shaft, but the well had been lined with brick, and the mortar was solid. He couldn’t find even the smallest hole in which to grab a hold.
A cold chill that came from within him, colder than the water around him, took hold. He was beginning to realize that he may have just been responsible for killing his friends. There was no way out of the well; even getting to the opening with the ledge was only halfway as far as they needed to go. Sooner or later the thieves would find them, either in the next few moments, or in the morning when people came to the well to draw water.
And by that time, he didn’t think any of them would still be alive.
He looked down at the palm of his hand. Gleaming there was the circular stain that had been in his skin since he had drawn the Time Scissors scale.
I wonder if now is the time to use this, he thought. I could wish to undo Time back to the point where I suggested that we jump into the well, and none of us would be here.
He took a deep breath, considering the weight of the action. But then, where would we be? Maybe using this power would land us all back in Felonia’s cage—or worse. She would probably shoot Char as soon as she saw him. He looked over at his friend.
Char was rustling around in the frigid water.
“What are you—doing?” Ven whispered. His body was shaking now.
“Shhh,” Char replied. He was unwrapping the bundle over his shoulder. After a few agonizing moments, he held up what he had been struggling with.
Mr. Coates’s gauntlet.
“What are you doing?” Ven repeated.
Char did not answer. Instead, he slipped the heavy metal glove on his arm, then flexed his fingers and made a fist.
A pair of metal spikes emerged from the knuckles.
A sense of excitement flooded through Ven, warming his freezing toes.
“I had forgotten about that!” he whispered again.
Char nodded, feeling around in the wall for the place where the bricks were sealed with mortar.
“Get—Saeli’s bucket over here, so I can—use the rope to balance,” Char said. He reached back as far as he could, and punched the wall just above him with his armored knuckles.
The double-pronged spike buried into the mortar, sticking his hand to the wall.
Ven swam over to where Clemency, Ida, and Saeli were floating in the water. “Hang on,” he said to the girls, then steered Saeli and her bucket back over to where Char was hanging half out of the water. He positioned the rope near his friend’s left hand, holding the bucket in place.
Char took hold of the rope with his left hand and heaved himself out of the water. He pulled the gauntlet from the wall with a tug that sent crumbs of dried mortar raining down on Ven and the girls and into the water below him.
Char spun as he clung to the rope, twisting with it as it turned in the air. Saeli, whose bucket was attached to that rope, spun on the surface of the water, looking terrified in the dark. She covered her head as Char punched the wall a little farther up and hoisted himself between the rope and the gauntlet, climbing hand over hand, his feet sliding on the slippery sides of the well.
After several agonizing minutes and as many showers of mortar grit, he was able to reach the ledge. He lunged into the opening on his belly, then scrambled inside. Then he turned around and hoisted Saeli’s bucket out of the water and up to the ledge with him.
“I’m out!” he called quietly down the well. Ven saw him lean out of the opening and look above, where the flashes of torchlight were still dancing. Saeli climbed out of the bucket, and Char lowered it back down.
“Hang on to this, put your feet on the wall, and I’ll pull you up,” he called down.
“You first, Ida,” Ven said, treading water over to the girls. Ida had said nothing since jumping in, and Ven suspected she was s
uffering even more than he and Clemency were, being thin as she was. “Once you get up there, help Char with the rope.”
Ida nodded. Ven wrapped the rope around her waist.
“All right, Char, heave her up,” he called up to the ledge.
With a series of tugs, Ida lurched up the side of the well, her feet slipping helplessly on the sides. Char was cold, but he was strong, and he had the gauntlet, so a few moments later she was over the ledge and into the opening.
The bucket splashed down in the water again.
“Up, Clem,” Ven whispered. “It’s going to take all of you to lift me.”
The voices in the street were beginning to gather around the well. Without a word, Clemency took hold of the rope and followed Ida, scrambling with much less grace than the Thief Queen’s daughter had.
At last the bucket splashed down again.
“We’re ready,” Char said, his voice low. “Hang on.”
As he was raised out of the icy water, Ven could hear Char quietly calling out a short-drag cadence, a sea-chantey the sailors had sung to make the raising of sails or to haul longboats aboard the Serelinda. He had just reached the ledge and was being pulled over when a bright light splashed down the well from above.
“What’erya doin’, Vince?” a voice called from the street as the shadow of a head appeared at the well rim, a torch in a raised hand.
“Thought I heard somethin’ down here,” the dark shadow replied. He thrust the torch into the well, lighting the sides brightly.
Ven and the others pressed themselves against the walls of the alcove, holding their breath.
The man spun the torch around inside the well again.
“Prob’ly rats,” the man behind him said. “Come on, gotta find them brats.”
The man called Vince waited a few moments longer, then pulled the torch from the well. The light danced away, then disappeared.
The children remained pressed against the wall of the drain, or whatever the opening was, until the last of the voices and torchlight had moved on. Then they all let out their breath at the same time.
“That’s another one we owe Mr. Coates,” said Clemency, still shivering. “Good work, Char.”
“Yeah, this really is a handy thing,” Char said, holding up the gauntlet admiringly. He turned his hand over as Mr. Coates had done, in his shop, what seemed like a million years before. The double spike popped back into the armored glove. Then he flicked the thumb, and the flint and steel ignited. A tiny flame burned from the thumb.
Ven laughed. Clemency and Saeli giggled in relief. Char smiled. Only Ida was silent.
“Ven—did you know that your eyes glow in the dark when light hits ’em, like an animal’s?” Char said, settling back against the wall of the drain.
Ven blinked in surprise. “Don’t everyone’s?”
“Uh—no.”
“Maybe it’s just Nain, then,” Ven said. “All my family’s eyes do.”
“Hmmm,” Char said, leaning his head back. “That’s odd.”
“Nain live inside the earth,” Clemency said, squeezing the water out of her hair. “If they couldn’t see in the dark, that would be a problem.”
“Is the keekee all right?” Ven asked Saeli, who was cuddling the little creature to warm it up. Saeli nodded.
As she did, Ven saw movement behind her.
The flame from the gauntlet cast long shadows down the drain tunnel behind them. In those shadows stood three more shadows.
Only these looked human.
Each of those shadows was thin, though one was especially so. He was crouched on the floor of the drain, watching them with glittering eyes, eyes that glowed like Ven’s own. A taller, broader man was leaning up against the drain wall, while another even taller shadow loomed behind him. The tall man spoke, and his voice had the ring of dark amusement to it.
“Well, lookee here, Percy. What does that look like ta you?”
The shadow of the thin man seemed to lean forward out of the dark, and the children could hear the sound of sniffing.
The thin man settled back on his feet and grinned broadly, his teeth catching the light of the glowing stone. When he spoke, his voice came out in a terrifying hiss.
“Fresh meat,” he whispered.
20
The Downworlders
AW, NOW, PERCY, THAT WASN’ NICE,” THE FIRST MAN SCOLDED. “Downright unfriendly, in fact. No point in frightenin’ the little blighters. Yer great-grandmum was a runaway just like that once.”
* * *
The words “fresh meat” had made my brain stop working. I was terrified, but not as bad as Char. I could tell how scared he was by how much the gauntlet was shaking. The shuddering flame in the thumb was throwing flashes of light all around the dark tunnel.
* * *
The taller man squeezed past Percy in the tunnel.
“You little blokes musta really had it rough to get to this place through the well,” he said.
When Char’s shaking light hit him, Ven could see that he was a pale man with colorless hair, a little like Ida’s, and light blue eyes that gleamed in the dark. He was missing a good many teeth, as all the men seemed to be. “Well, sorry ta tell you this, kids, but no matter how hard yer life was up ta now, it’ll be harder from here on out.”
Char’s little flame burned out with a whisper.
Leaving them in darkness.
“Come with us,” the tall man’s voice said.
The friends spun around, looking for an escape. Behind them the tunnel opened back into the well shaft. All else was dark.
“What do we do?” Clemency choked.
A metallic clink came from over Ven’s shoulder. He turned around.
With his Nain eyes he could see Char standing there, trembling, the gauntlet outstretched.
The dagger extended.
“We’re not goin’ anywhere with you,” Char said. It was a brave statement, but his voice cracked as he said it.
The men at the other end of the tunnel broke into raucous laughter.
“Is that so?” said the one called Percy.
In his head Ven could hear the words Mr. Coates had spoken.
You don’t want to be carrying a weapon, visible or otherwise, in this place. Even the youngest infant who lives within these walls is better with any weapon than you would be. You should never look more ready for a fight than you are, young’uns. It’s the best way to get yourselves killed.
He thought back to the most dangerous situation he had ever been in before this. He was just beyond the harbor of Vaarn, inspecting a new ship his father had built, when Fire Pirates attacked. The only thing that was ever known for certain about Fire Pirates was that they never left any of their victims alive. He remembered what he had said to the first mate on that ship as they were gathering weapons to fight, even though they were outnumbered ten to one.
If we don’t fight, we’re all done for.
The first mate had looked at him sadly.
We’re all done for anyway, lad.
I don’t want to fight, but I don’t really think we have any choice, he thought miserably now. What other option do we have? He pulled the jack-rule from his pocket and flipped open the knife.
“Leave us alone,” he said, trying to sound menacing. “We’re armed.”
“Sure ye are,” came the reply. “Come along, now.”
With the other hand, Ven reached into his pocket and pulled out the king’s stone. He raised it high above his head, trying to make the shadow of Char’s weapon and his own seem longer.
“Leave us alone!” he shouted.
The men at the end of the tunnel shied away from the light, squinting. Then they blinked. Their mouths fell open and their faces went slack in surprise.
“The Lightstone,” Percy whispered. “They got the Lightstone.”
The friends looked at each other in shock. When they looked back, the men were gone.
“What—was that?” Clemency asked in amazement. “W
hat just happened?”
Ven looked down at the glowing stone in his hand. It was radiating a cool blue light, as it had before, but at the center there was a hint of gold, much in the same way there had been when it was in the hand of King Vandemere. The internal cracks and squiggles were clearer now than they had been when the king had given it to him. In the middle, one long, straight vertical crack had a number of lines and squiggles branching off it. On one of those branches was the large starburst-shaped flaw Ven had seen the first day.
The golden glow was coming from there.
“I’ve no idea,” he murmured. “They called it the Lightstone—they must know what it is.” The burning curiosity that had been absent since Saeli’s disappearance began to take root again. “And maybe that means they know who sent it to the king—and why.”
“Or maybe they did,” Char noted.
The others looked at him in silence.
Ven stared deeper at the cracks in the translucent stone. A small vertical crack seemed to pulse when his hand was closer to the opening of the drain where they had come in. He stepped back to the edge and looked up the well shaft.
The vertical line glowed bright blue.
Ven’s eyes opened as wide as those of the men in the tunnel.
“Of course,” he said as excitement rushed through him, making him hot inside. “Of course—it’s a map! These are the tunnels I saw when I looked at the Lightstone with the jack-rule in Mr. Coates’s store.”
“If this one is the well hole,” Char said, running his finger along the pulsing blue line, “then what is this?” He pointed to the long crack connected to it by a tiny horizontal squiggle.
Ven passed the stone around for everyone to see. Everyone examined it but Ida.
“I don’t know, but the starburst-shaped flaw is in a small squiggle off that long line,” he said, taking the stone back. “I don’t really think we can go back up the well. Maybe we should just go deeper in and see what’s going on.”