Part 22 (1/2)

'We're all scared,' Rip a.s.sured him. 'I don't like saying it, but I am.'

'But what are we going to do?' Kay asked, tears threatening to break loose again. He pointed to the inner door. 'There's a dead woman behind there.' Then he pointed to the outer door, 'And there's a ghost in the hall. We can't get out of the window. What are we going to do?'

Mandy pushed the goblet at him before he could go off again. 'Drink,' she said with ferocious emphasis. Kay did so and it seemed to help.

Rip stared glumly at the opposite wall. It was decorated with a carving of a plant in an urn. It was very elaborate, with all kinds of curlicues, not very pretty, but well done. As he stared, it seemed to him that something was wrong with that wall. From the way it projected into the room there should be a closet in it, but there wasn't. And now that he thought about it, the wall in the corridor was straight and smooth. So why was the wall on the inside bent like that? Can it be a secret pa.s.sage like King Akter used to escape the wicked uncle? Can it be a secret pa.s.sage like King Akter used to escape the wicked uncle? he thought. he thought.

Suddenly Neesa said, 'Yes!' She stood and walked right to where Rip was looking, and went to the wall as if hypnotized and began pressing every berry and flower centre, tracing every curve of every frond, looking for something that might press in.

He hadn't been too sure just what a secret pa.s.sage was or how it worked when Emmet had told him the story, but he hadn't seen a real castle then. They were so big. Could he actually be looking at one right now?

'What are you doing?' Mandy asked.

Neesa pressed one last projection. It sank beneath her finger and something clicked. The wall swung open with a soft creak. Rip approached and stared at it breathlessly for a long moment then Kay and Mandy came to stand beside him.

'Open it,' Kay said, looking pale and dazed.

Rip did. The opening revealed a set of steps leading into pitch blackness.

'Dark,' Neesa said, taking hold of Mandy's hand.

'We'll need candles,' Mandy said, ever practical. 'There's some in that woman's room...'

'No!' Kay said and grabbed her arm. 'Don't go in there!'

Rip silently agreed.

'Well what are we supposed to do?' she demanded. 'If we take that one,' she pointed to the night table, 'they'll know someone was here.'

'They'll know someone was here anyway,' Rip said. 'We drank most of the wine, remember?'

'But if we take the candle they might guess we went this way.' Mandy's face had a stubborn look.

'They won't know!' insisted Rip. 'They'd have to find the pa.s.sage like Neesa did.' Then he looked at Neesa. 'I was thinking about a pa.s.sage, from a story my pa told me. How did you know?'

'I didn't,' answered Neesa. 'She told me.' With a nod of her head she indicated the next room.

Rip couldn't repress a shudder. 'Look, they might think we were here, but they'll think we left by the door.' He marched over and unlocked it, suddenly certain that whatever had tried to follow them into the room was not there. He didn't know why he knew, just that it felt right. 'So, they'll look all over the place, and even if they come back and find this pa.s.sage, we'll have been gone a long time,' Rip explained.

He went to the night table, checked the bedside drawer and found two more candles and a striker. Handing one to Mandy, he stuffed the other into his s.h.i.+rt, then lit the one in her hand and took it from her. They were very good candleswax, not tallow dipsMa had three like them for special times. Then he put the striker in his s.h.i.+rt next to the other candle.

He and Mandy looked at one another for a long moment, then Mandy's eyes flickered toward the corridor. She took a deep breath. 'You go first,' she said. 'I'll follow.'

Rip took a deep breath to steady himself and hoped it didn't show. He was afraid of that dark hole between the walls too. But since they had no other way to go he supposed they might as well get it over with.

A timid knock on the door of Lyman Malachy's laboratory brought his head up from his work table. A glance at the Baron who sat beside him was met with a frown.

'Come in,' Malachy said. He wiped his hands and stepped toward the door. The Baron rose from his chair and put aside his book.

A very nervous and greasy-looking mercenary opened the door and advanced a half pace into the room. His posture was absurdly deferential.

'Sorry to interrupt yer wors.h.i.+ps,' the man said, bobbing in an almost continuous bow, eyes flickering to the geometric shapes on parchments pinned to the walls, to things chalked on the floor, to books and instruments.

'The, uh, the children...'

Lyman closed his eyes; he'd known it was going to be bad, but if something had happened to those children heads would roll. 'Ye-sss?' he said aloud.

'They've, uh, the little brats have escaped, yer wors.h.i.+ps.'

The Baron s.h.i.+fted his stance and Lyman knew without looking that he was giving the messenger a look that might cause a strong man to faint. This fool was not a strong man. The wizard moved to defuse the situation.

'You mean they're out of their room,' Lyman said calmly. 'In point of fact they cannot get out of the house.' Speaking over his shoulder to the Baron he said, 'I've made arrangements.' He turned back to the mercenary. 'So they'll be somewhere in the house.' Flicking his hand in a gesture of dismissal he said, 'Go and find them. And, mind you don't harm them. I very much doubt you'd like the consequences if you so much as scratch one of them. Do you understand?'

The man nodded and backed out, bowing, pulling the door closed after him.

Lyman shrugged. 'd.a.m.ned nuisance!'

Bernarr frowned. 'Indeed,' he said coldly. He sat down again. 'Why do you have so many at one time? We won't need another one for at least a week.'

The wizard bit his lips and looked thoughtfully at the Baron. Then he went over and pulled a chair close to the one in which Bernarr was sitting. 'I've been collecting them for several reasons,' he admitted. 'One, it's not that easy to find a child born on the day your lady...entered her present state. And though the spell we found to extend her life by using the life-energy of these children has at least kept her condition from deteriorating, well,' he extended his hands palms up and shrugged, 'it hasn't improved it at all.'

'I thought that I saw something the last time,' Bernarr said. He stared into the distance as though remembering. 'A twitch of her mouth, and a finger, I'm sure I saw one finger move, ever so slightly.'

'Mmm, mm, yes, just possibly,' Lyman agreed. 'But we need more, much more, my lord. After all, our goal is to free her completely, is it not?'

Bernarr's eyes s.h.i.+fted toward the wizard and narrowed. 'What is in your mind?' he asked in a slow, quiet voice.

Lyman rubbed his hands excitedly. 'The very book that you're reading gave me the idea,' he said. 'If we can raise a life-force powerful enough we may well succeed in curing and waking your lady.'

Furious, the Baron lunged forward, grasping the front of the wizard's robe in his gnarled hand. 'Why have you not told me this before?'

'Because I did not know about it,' Lyman said with a sick smile. 'We only just acquired that book, you know.'

The Baron let him go and leaned back in his chair. 'Show me!'

Nervously, the wizard took the book, sped through the pages and presented it to the Baron once he'd found what he was looking for.

Bernarr studied the text, frowning over the curious antique phrasing. Then his eyebrows rose and his mouth opened.

'Seven times seven,' the wizard babbled. 'A mystical number, you see.'

'Forty-nine?' Bernarr said in disbelief. 'Forty-nine! Are you mad? Why not nine times nine? That, too, is a mystical number.'