Time passed slowly, and Jimmy noticed that something beyond the normal tension expected in this situation had infected the mood of each of Arutha’s company. Martin and Laurie had both fallen into deep, brooding silences, and Arutha seemed introverted almost to the point of being catatonic. Baru silently mouthed chants and appeared in a trance, while Roald sat facing a wall, staring at some unseen image. Jimmy shook off distant images of strange people, oddly dressed and engaged in alien undertakings, and forced himself alert. “Hey,” he said with just enough authority to jar everyone and turn their attention to him. “You all look . . . lost.”
Martin’s eyes seemed to focus. “I . . . I was thinking of Father.”
Arutha spoke softly. “It’s this place. I was . . . nearly without hope, ready to give up.”
Roald said, “I was at Cutter’s Gap again, only Highcastle’s army wasn’t going to arrive in time.”
Baru said, “I was singing . . . my death chant.”
Laurie crossed to stand next to Jimmy. “It’s this place. I was thinking Carline had found another while I was gone.” He looked at Jimmy. “You?”
Jimmy shrugged. “It hit me funny, too, but maybe it’s my age or something. It only made me think of strange people dressed in weird clothing. I don’t know. It sort of makes me angry.”
Martin said, “The elves said the moredhel come here to dream dreams of power.”
Jimmy said, “Well, all I know is you looked like those walking dead.” He moved toward the crevice. “It’s dark. Why don’t I go look about, and if things are quiet, then we can all go.”
Arutha said, “I think perhaps you and I should go together.”
“No,” said the boy thief. “I hate to show a lack of deference, but if I’m to risk my life doing something I’m expert in, let me do it. You need to have someone crawl about inside that place, and I’ll not have you tagging after. “
“It’s too dangerous,” said Arutha.
“I’ll not deny that,” answered Jimmy. “I’ll guarantee that Dragon Lord shrine will need some skill cracking, and if you’ve any sense you’ll let me go alone. Otherwise you’ll be dead before I can say, “Don’t step there, Highness,” and we might as well not have bothered in the first place. We could have just let the Nighthawks skewer you, and I’d have spent many more comfortable nights in Krondor.”
Martin said, “He’s right.”
Arutha said, “I don’t like this, but you are right.” As the boy turned to go, he added, “Have I told you that you put me in mind of that pirate Amos Trask sometimes?”
In the darkness they could sense the boy’s grin.
Jimmy scampered up through the crevice and peered out. Seeing no one, he made a quick run for the building. Coming up against the wall, he edged around until he was before the door. He stood quietly for a moment, judging the best way to approach the problem. He studied the door once again, then quickly clambered up the wall, finding finger-and toeholds in the molding next to the door. Again he studied the anteroom through the window. Double doors opened up into darkness beyond. Otherwise the room was empty. Jimmy glanced upward and was confronted by a blank ceiling. What was waiting inside to kill him? As sure as dogs had fleas, there was a trap inside. And if so, what sort and how to get around it? Again Jimmy was visited by the nagging itch of something odd about this place.
Jimmy dropped back to the ground and took a deep breath. He reached out and lifted the latch of the door. With a shove, he leaped aside, to the left, so the swinging door, hinged on the right, would shield him from anything behind it for an instant. Nothing happened.
Jimmy peered cautiously inside, letting his senses seek out inconsistencies, flaws in the design of the place, any clue to reveal a trap. He saw none. Jimmy leaned against the door. What if the trap were magic? He had no defenses against some enchantment meant to kill humans, non-moredhel, anyone wearing green, or whatever it might be. Jimmy stuck his hand across the portal, ready to snatch it back. Nothing happened.
Jimmy sat. Then he lay down. From the low angle everything looked different and he hoped he might see something. As he rose, something did register. The floor was made of marble slabs of equal size and texture, with slight cracks between them. He lightly placed his foot on the slab before the door, slowly permitting his weight to fall upon it, feeling for any movement. There was none.
Jimmy entered and moved around toward the far doors. He inspected every stone slab before he stepped upon it, and decided none were trapped. He inspected the walls and ceiling, gauging everything about the room that might provide him with some intelligence. Nothing. The old, familiar feeling plagued Jimmy: something was wrong here.
With a sigh, Jimmy faced the open doors into the heart of the building and entered.