"Kian and Wye already know my thinking," she said, starting ahead again. She glanced back at Quentin. "I hope I'm wrong, Highlander. I really do."
They marched on in silence for the remainder of their journey, Quentin mired in gloom at the prospect of being betrayed yet again. He knew Tamis was right about the Rindge, but he could barely bring himself to consider what that might mean. He wished Bek were there to give his opinion. Bek would see things more clearly. He would be quicker to ferret out the truth. The Rindge didn't seem antagonistic, but they had been at war with Antrax for the whole of their existence, so they knew something about staying alive. They hadn't tried to harm their visitors, but Tamis might have been right about them watching the company fight its way clear of the maze. It was possible they were simply waiting to see what would happen when Antrax and the outlanders came face-to-face.
The more Quentin thought about it, the more uneasy he grew. The only real weapon they had was his sword. It might be enough to see them through, but he could not be certain. If Walker had been overcome by Antrax, what chance did he have? He wondered if Bek had come up against Antrax, as well, and having discovered his own form of magic, brought it to bear. If so, what success had he enjoyed? If his magic was powerful enough to shred creepers, as Tamis had reported, could it bring Antrax down? He did not like thinking of Bek facing Antrax alone. He did not like even considering the possibility. It shouldn't happen that way, Bek alone. Or himself, for that matter. It should be the two of them, standing together the way they had planned it, watching out for each other.
He wondered if there was any chance that it could still happen like that and if it could happen in time to make a difference.
It was still early afternoon when they reached the edges of Castledown and paused long enough for the Rindge to scout ahead for creepers. While they waited, Quentin sat with Panax and stared out into the midday heat as it rose in visible waves off the metal of the devastated city. In the flat, raw wasteland, nothing moved. There was no sign of the maze, farther in from where they sat, and nothing to show that anyone had ever passed that way. Panax drank from a water skin and offered it to Quentin.
"Worried about Bek?" he asked, wiping his mouth.
Quentin nodded. "I can't stop worrying about him. I don't like the thought of him out there alone."
The Dwarf nodded and looked off into the distance. "Might be better if he is, though."
The Rindge scouts returned. There were no creepers in evidence along the city's perimeter. Obat motioned everyone ahead, and they moved through the trees, staying just inside the forestline as they followed the edge of the ruins east and south. No one talked as they scanned the city, moving with slow, careful steps. The buildings stared back at them, the gaping holes of windows and doors like vacant eyes and mouths. Castledown was a tomb for dead men and machines, a graveyard for the unwary. Quentin carried the Sword of Leah unsheathed, bearing it before him, feeling just the slightest tingle of imprisoned magic awaiting its summoning. His pulse throbbed in his temples, and he heard the sound of his breathing in his throat.
Obat brought them to a grated entry cut into the side of a building that sprawled several hundred yards in both directions. Stationing Rindge at either end and carefully back from where he stood, he worked with a handful of others to free the grate from its clasps and swing it back on its rusted hinges. The effort produced a series of squeals barely muted by old grease and the weight of the metal.
Obat pointed into the black opening and spoke to Panax in hushed tones.
"Obat says that this leads to where Antrax lives," the Dwarf translated. "He says this is how it breathes underground."
"A ventilation shaft," Quentin said.
"Ask him how he knows Antrax is down there," Tamis demanded.
Panax did so, listened to Obat's reply, and shook his head. "He says he knows because this is where he's seen the creepers come out to hunt."
Tamis looked at Quentin. "What do you think, Highlander? You're the one with the sword."
Quentin stared into the blackness of the shaft and thought that it was the last place he would like to go. He could just make out lights farther in, dim glimmers in the blackness, so they would not be blind. But he didn't care for being trapped underground beneath all that stone and metal with no map to guide them and no way of knowing where to look.
"This might be a waste of time," Panax offered quietly.
Quentin nodded. "On the other hand, what else do we have to do? Where else do we look for the others if not here?" His grip tightened on the sword. "We've come this far. We should at least take a peek."
Tamis stepped forward to peer more closely into the darkness. "A peek should be more than enough. Are the Rindge coming with us?"