Call of the Colossus: An epic fantasy novel (The Mindstream Chronicles Book 2) (43 page)

“She’s not here, sir,” Gruesome said.

Elder Devarla pushed past the men nearest the doorway. “Move aside,” she said. “If she’s here, I’ll see her.”

Challenger
’
s bollocks
, Jora thought, knowing the elder could enter the ’twixt and find her there.

Momentarily, Elder Devarla’s form became less solid to Jora’s mystical vision. “Hello, Jora. I know you’re hiding beneath the bed.”

“Elder,” Jora said, “what have I–”

“Hush, now. Stay here until they leave. When it’s safe, make your escape.”

Elder Devarla left the ’twixt. “She isn’t here,” she said to Milad. “Perhaps she’s at the Spirit Stone or in the library with her disciple.”

Jora felt a flood of relief and joy. Her elder was on her side. The instruction the enforcers had been given to apprehend her hadn’t been issued by Elder Devarla. Her joy was tempered, however, by the question
why are they here?
Had the king found out that she’d violated the terms of her pardon?

Jora couldn’t help but wonder whether Rivva had betrayed her. After what Korlan did to Sundancer, after the dominee leveraged Finn to take away her books, it was hard to trust anyone anymore.

She waited in her room until the enforcers left before crawling out from under the bed. Milad posted two men outside her door, making it nearly impossible for her to leave without alerting them. She dressed quietly, listening and watching through the Mindstream for any sign that the enforcers heard her rustling around.

Whatever had happened, she was no longer safe here. She pulled her knapsack from the armoire and packed her spare clothes and purple robe. Slowly and quietly, she reached across the bed to grab her flute that she kept nestled between the mattress and wall. She slid it lengthwise into the knapsack and closed the outer flap. Next, she pulled on her boots, pulled the red hat on, and put her arms into the straps of her bag. Ready to go, she opened the Mindstream, hummed the first part of the phrase to open the ’twixt, and whispered Sonnis’s name.

On her command, the worm took her form. She felt uncomfortable looking at her twin in the flesh, every flaw duplicated. If she’d thought herself homely before, now she appeared even more repugnant to her critical eye. Her shoulders slumped, calling to mind the countless admonitions from her mother to stand up straight. Her huge eyes blinked dully, like those of a dim-witted cow. Her thick nose with big, ugly pores dominated her face. At least it distracted people from her fat lips and crooked teeth.

The false Jora was dressed exactly as she was, with the hat on her bald head and the knapsack on her back. Her beige trousers and green tunic were so wrinkled, she looked like she’d slept in them. Realizing she was similarly disheveled, Jora made a sour face. Ah well. It didn’t matter.

“Take off the backpack,” she said. When the false backpack disappeared, she added, “and the hat.”

Satisfied her ally looked enough like her to fool anyone, she told Sonnis, “Outside the door are two enforcers. When you leave the room, they are going to take you into custody. You’re to go with them. Say nothing, but be cooperative. They will put you in jail. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Sonnis replied, sounding identical to her but for the lack of any intonation.

She cringed, certain the enforcers outside had heard him. “Shhh! I’ll recall you in a while, once I’m safely away. When I point at you, open the door and let them arrest you.” She moved to stand beside the door on its hinged side, where she would remain hidden from view when it opened. She pointed at the false Jora, and the ally opened the door.

“Stop,” one enforcer said. Through the space between the door and frame, Jora saw them both draw their swords. One of them stepped forward and seized Sonnis by the upper arm. “Don’t try to call your monsters, or I’ll gut you where you stand.”

As instructed, Sonnis said nothing, but the enforcers gagged him anyway.

“Let’s go.”

Jora heard footsteps retreat down the hallway, and she chanced peeking around the doorframe to ensure no one else was there. The corridor was empty. Moving about in the ‘twixt would have been safer, but as soon as she did, Sonnis would disappear from view, for he couldn’t be in the human realm of perception without her. She needed to leave him in the enforcers’ custody as long as possible. She let out a breath and sneaked out of her room, closing the door behind her.

Chapter 28

The day was overcast and the streets damp. A mild sprinkle tapped her head and shoulders. It didn’t seem to discourage people from going where they needed to go or to send the merchants scurrying for cover. Jora walked at a common pace, pretending nothing was amiss. Now and then, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one followed.

Ahead, an enforcer patrolled the street. She paused at a merchant’s cart and feigned interest in the goods for sale—razors, knives, whetstones, and strops. The merchant was watching her with a curious expression.

She smiled and glanced down the street. The enforcer was standing there, looking about but not in her direction. “My papa lost his razor,” she said to the merchant.

“He did, did he? He should come take a look at my wares. A man knows what sort of handle he likes, how long a blade. It’s not something a girl should choose for him.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. The enforcer started walking again and disappeared behind a building. “I’ll tell him to find you on Tipping Street.” She started off again.

“This is Runner Street,” he called after her. “Not Tipping.”

“Right,” she said, mostly to herself.

When she reached the street where she’d seen the enforcer, she paused to check both directions and hurried across. At the intersection of Tipping Street, she peeked around the corner. Two enforcers stood guard on the street not far from Arc’s shop, undoubtedly waiting for the two Colossi to return.
Challenger
’
s fists.
She was going to need a diversion.

So much for leaving the false Jora in jail. She slipped into an alley and exchanged smiles with a woman hanging her laundry. She waited casually for her to finish and go inside, and then summoned Sonnis, using the clothes as a curtain. He returned to her as a worm as always, and she again instructed him to take her form as before, minus the backpack and hat.

“Come with me,” she said, taking her ally’s hand. The two returned to Ponder Street and walked toward Tipping. People stared after them, no doubt never having seen twins that looked identical down to the wrinkles in their clothes. Thankfully, no one stopped them. When they reached the corner of Tipping Street, they stopped.

“Now,” she said to Sonnis, “I want you to walk down that street and approach the fourth shop on the left. There are two enforcers who will arrest you. Let them. Just as before, don’t say anything, but be cooperative. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” the other Jora said.

“All right. Go on.”

And the ally did. Peeking around the corner, Jora watched her twin walk, surprised by the feminine curve of her hips and the roundness of her buttocks in those trousers. She had never seen herself from behind, had never been pleased by how she looked. At that moment, as untimely as it was, she admired her figure for the first time in her life.
I
’
m not a girl anymore. I
’
m a woman.

“Stop,” one of the enforcers said, drawing Jora’s attention back to the unfolding scene. “It’s her.”

At that, both enforcers rushed the false Jora, pushed her against the building, and gagged her. One clamped shackles onto her wrists while the other threatened her with his sword. As instructed, the ally did not resist.

With their quarry secure, the two enforcers marched her down the street. Jora started to the shop, though she kept an eye on the enforcers’ backs, in case they had some urge to turn around. Just as she reached for the handle, the door swung open. Jora gasped in surprise.

Arc engulfed the doorway, looking as surprised as she felt. He took her by the upper arm and pulled her inside, then shut the door. “I am grateful ’tis thee. I heard something and thought the enforcers had arrested thee.”

“They did,” she said with a wink.

There, in the safety of Arc’s presence, Jora let a shudder ripple through her body. The realization struck her of what she’d done. Not only had she evaded arrest, she’d sent an impostor to jail in her stead. Twice. Those crimes, she knew from her studies, would probably earn her a harsh sentence. Searing, most likely—a punishment involving a hot poker and an eye. They would probably do that right before putting her to death.

If they manage to put the kendern on me quickly enough.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” she asked. “I’m surprised they didn’t apprehend you.”

“We have ourselves hidden.” Arc tossed his head in the direction of the storeroom. “Come hither.”

“Where’s Ludo?”

“He is in the Meanders.”

“You can get to the Meanders from here?”

“Aye. ’Tis why thy freond the princess chose the shop for us to stay.”

“How do you know that? Have you spoken to Princess Rivva?”

“Aye. She did come up through the Meanders not long agone. Come forthwith.” He extended a hand toward her. “We will spirit thee beyond the bounds of the city.”

“I can’t. I must find my brother,” Jora said. “They’ll try to use him as leverage against me.”

“We know where thy bro’er is, portwatcher. Come. We will take thee thither.”

The cellar hatch rose a couple of inches, then opened fully. Ludo smiled at her from the opening. “Good morrow, portwatcher. ’Tis a pleasure and a relief to again cast mine eyne upon thy fair countenance.” He climbed back down, disappearing into the darkness below.

Despite her fear and anticipation of what lay ahead, she smiled at his fanciful words.

Arc held her arm while she turned and descended into what looked like a normal cellar, lit by a candle in a wall-mounted holder.

The flickering light revealed a set of hastily crafted shelves along two of the rough walls and some crates stacked against the far one. Footprints in the dust led to the corner, where the curving path of a door would reveal the Meanders entrance to any who might come down.

Arc passed his poleaxe down to Ludo, then climbed down the ladder, closing the cellar hatch after him.

“Is Finn down here?” she asked. Still blind to him through the Mindstream, she had to trust the princess’s word that he was alive and hope they weren’t walking into a trap.

“Nay,” Arc said. “He is in the palace.”

Jora groaned.

“We wit the Meanders ful well,” Ludo said.

Of that she had no doubt, but finding Finn and getting him out without being seen was the problem.

“Come,” Arc said with a grin. “You have a freond thither. We will rescue thy bro’er.” He went to the wall where the dirt floor was disturbed. A knob of thin rope clung to what looked like a panel of wood, and he pulled it, revealing a dark entrance.

Ludo stepped through the narrow doorway into the darkness, ducking his head and easing himself through sideways. Jora went next, and Arc followed, pulling the hidden door shut behind him.

The tunnel walls were rough and dark gray, as was the floor, though Jora was most impressed with the fact that it was dry. None of the recent rain had made its way down there. Ludo led the way through the tunnels, which curved and turned in unexpected places. They certainly didn’t follow the layout of the streets above. It was easy to see why the two men called this the Meanders.

Ahead and behind, little feet skittered to and fro. At the candlelight’s edge ahead, tiny eyes shined back at them before the rats scurried away. Now and then, a particularly bold one stood its ground or went on the offensive, darting toward them, unafraid. Ludo ended them with his sword and kicked their bloody bodies to the side.

Jora shuddered, glad for the two warriors’ company. “Princess Rivva knows these tunnels?” she asked.

“Aye,” Arc said from behind her, “she said she cometh this way frequently when she wanteth to wander the city in disguise.”

Sometimes they descended a step or two, and sometimes they climbed back up, only to descend or climb a slope or another step later. Jora wondered how the princess knew which way to go. Rivva had surely gotten lost a time or two. Jora wouldn’t have ventured down there alone, not without her allies ready to defend her from hungry rats, and the idea of the princess braving these tunnels alone filled her with respect for the woman she’d previously seen as square-toed.

They walked for what seemed hours before they stopped at a door that appeared to have been opened recently.

“We are at the palace postern,” Ludo said. “What is our plan?”