“Now,” said Eanrin, coming to a sudden decision. He shook himself and was a cat again, crouched between the two humans, speaking so both could understand him. “We climb back to Gaheris and rescue the Chronicler.”
“What?” Alistair said. “Why are we rescuing him? What about my mother? What about all the other folk of Gaheris?”
The cat gave him a flat-eared glare. “Sometimes I believe I spend my whole life giving explanations to humans. I shall inform you briefly, for we have little time available to us. My Lady Imraldera has been taken captive by this one’s”—nod to Mouse—“people, and will not be released until the heir to Halisa is found.”
“Halisa, the sword of Etanun?” Alistair asked, unbelieving.
“Good little mortal, keep up. Yes, Halisa, Etanun’s sword. The Chronicler supposedly is his heir, your legendary Smallman. Surprise! We must nab him, take him south to fetch the sword, liberate my kidnapped comrade—”
“She’s not kidnapped,” said Mouse. “She offered herself.”
“Whatever you say. We rescue her, and then our favorite little hero returns to drive Corgar back into the Far World, where he belongs. Understand?”
Alistair’s mouth went dry. Insane. He had gone insane! That was the only explanation for any of this. But he heard himself saying, “We can never journey to . . . to wherever she’s from and back in time to save my people.”
“We can,” said the cat-man, “if we use the Paths I know.”
“But none of this—”
“Please don’t tell me that none of this is true or that it can’t be happening. I don’t have time for it, and neither do you.”
“But, the Chronicler is the Smallman?”
“Makes sense, doesn’t it? He’s small enough.”
“That’s a metaphor!”
“Well, don’t you sound all mortal about it?” The cat yawned, showing long white teeth, then blinked as though bored with it all. “Do you never pay attention to prophecies, portentous tellings, and the like?”
“No.”
“Can’t say I blame you. I’m not overly fond of them myself.”
12
THUS I SPOKE MY FIRST COMMAND, and thus was I obeyed. For Etanun and Akilun went at once down into the city, following the light of the lantern through the winding streets. I watched from above as the Twelve set upon them from all sides, desperate to bar their way. Each of these fell before the might of Halisa in Etanun’s hand. Not even the four strongest, standing beside their four bronze stones, withstood his mighty arm, though all the hosts of Etalpalli had cowered before them.
While Etanun stood over the slain, Akilun stepped forward to the Mound itself, to the very mouth of Cren Cru, the doorway through which the firstborn had vanished. I saw him fling wide the door; I saw him thrust the lantern into that darkness.
And Cren Cru fled. He did not try to fight, could not bear to have the brilliance of Asha enter his darkness. So he fled Etalpalli, and the Mound vanished, leaving only a raw, gaping wound in the ground.
Etanun and Akilun, their mighty gifts blazing, stood victorious.
In the tunnel far below Gaheris Castle, the three laid plans in dank darkness, and feeble plans they seemed to Alistair, though any plan was better than sitting dully in the dark. Only the cat’s eyes glowed like fey lanterns.
At last the cat stood. “Come along, mortals,” he said. “Night has fallen; not that it’ll make much difference. Goblins see better at night than in daylight. But they may have grown more comfortable in the last few hours, let their guard relax. They won’t expect much resistance here in the Near World.”
He took his man’s form, slid down into the water (growling at the wetness, for even as a man he was still a cat), and started sloshing back along the passage toward the long stone stair.
Mouse and Alistair hastened after, hating to slide from that ledge when they couldn’t see the bottom. Knowing the drop was short didn’t make it better. Icy water flowing in from the river filled Mouse’s thin shoes and froze Alistair’s bare feet.
“I must remember to grab some boots,” he muttered as they tramped along behind the cat-man, whom they could not see, though his muttered complaints were easy enough to follow.
At first it was a relief to step from the chill water onto the steep, slippery stairs, bracing themselves against the walls as they climbed. But the ceiling was so low that Alistair was soon reduced to an upward crawl, using his frozen hands as much as his frozen feet, for he was too tall to stand upright.
“We cannot guarantee the creatures haven’t discovered the passage,” Eanrin said. He had taken cat form and was therefore making much swifter progress than the other two. He sat on a step above, and they climbed to reach the glow of his eyes. “It’s never been much of a secret, not since I first came to guard the gates, and that’s at least a hundred years ago.”
“You’re a hundred years old?” Mouse whispered in awe, her voice carrying up the stone passage.
“Oh no,” said the cat with a chuckle. “Much older!”