‘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 passage like Neesa did.’ Then he looked at Neesa. ‘I was thinking about a passage, 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 passage, 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 shirt, then lit the one in her hand and took it from her. They were very good candles—wax, not tallow dips—Ma had three like them for special times. Then he put the striker in his shirt 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 worships,’ 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 worships.’
The Baron shifted 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. ‘Damned 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.’