And All Between (20 page)

At last the caravan reached the beginning of the rail lines; and there most of the followers were left behind. A single car awaited them at the loading platform, and only the members of their party were allowed to board. As the car moved forward, Neric sighed with relief, but a few moments later, he noticed Herd Eld speaking urgently to Hiro D’anhk. Then Hiro turned to Neric.

“Herd thinks it might be wise for you and Genaa to move to the center of the car,” he said. “We will soon be passing intersecting tunnels.”

Once more aware of a heavy burden of anxiety, Neric moved with Genaa to the more protected area. But the intersections sped by without incident, and it was not long before the car came to a stop at the entrance of the southern factory caverns. Making their way past the nearly deserted caves of the bronze works, the caravan followed Rad Arba through a series of tunnels that led, at last, to the cavern of the three lakes. There were several openings where tunnels opened into the huge cavern, but Rad led the way unhesitatingly to one.

“It was here,” he said, “that the Ol-zhaan appeared from the darkness.”

And it was here that good-bys were said, as the foreman turned back and the six Erdling wardens prepared to remain behind to guard the mouth of the tunnel. Then, their lanterns lit and blazing, the five went on alone—the two Ol-zhaan, the Verban and the two Erdling ambassadors.

They moved quickly in the bright glow of the lanterns, and it was not long before Genaa discovered the first small spray of fern. Holding it up, withered and dusty, she suddenly laughed aloud. She had been dreading the return to the deserted tunnels; but now that they were there, it all seemed much less terrible. They had food and light, her father walked beside her, and the withered fern pointed the way back to Green-sky. But then, suddenly, Herd Eld put his hand across her mouth.

“Be silent,” he said urgently.

“What is it?” Hiro whispered.

Herd pointed to the floor of the tunnel. Looking, Genaa saw loose soil, drifted dust and a length of half-buried rail. “What is it?” she whispered.

“After Teera disappeared I spent many days in the tunnels,” Herd spoke softly. “I learned to read the dust as one reads a printed slate. Many feet have passed this way, very recently.”

“The Nekom?” Hiro guessed.

“Perhaps. If they guessed you might return the way you came, they could have bribed or tricked one of Rad’s people into bringing them here. They may be planning to wait for us somewhere on ahead.”

“What shall we do?” It was Kanna who broke the shocked silence.

“I have a plan,” Herd said. “Just a few yards farther on there is a large ventilation tunnel. The four of you must climb up it to the end and wait; I will go on alone.”

“But why Herd?” Kanna asked.

“I know these tunnels well. I can move quickly and quietly. Perhaps I can discover who it is and what may be their purpose. And if they are Nekom, I may be able to decoy them into taking a wrong turning.”

It seemed a faint hope but, perhaps, the only one. So the others waited with extinguished lanterns in a small lookout chamber below the Root, while Herd went on alone. The time passed slowly. Hardly daring to whisper, they waited in silence, constantly listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. From time to time Kanna wept quietly, and the others embraced her in a silent sharing of her grief and fear.

After what seemed many hours, but could, perhaps, have been no more than one, there was the sudden sound of footsteps. The steps were slow and groping, and a moment later Herd crawled up the narrow tunnel. In the dim light that filtered down through the Root it was apparent that his face was tense and strained and that he no longer carried his lantern.

“Light your lanterns,” he said. “We must go quickly. I’ll tell you what happened later when we are beyond pursuit.”

For a time they went quickly, without stopping to look for pieces of fern. “There is no need yet,” Herd whispered. “You came this way, I know. There is a point farther on when we will have to watch again for your markers.”

They went on, almost running. Several times the light from the lanterns revealed intersecting tunnels—tunnels of which Neric and Genaa had been entirely unaware when they had passed that way in total darkness. At one intersection Herd paused briefly and listened, and then hurried on. A few moments later he stopped and looked around.

“It was here,” he said. “It was here that they turned back. From now on we must go carefully, disturbing the ground as little as possible and picking up every piece of fern.”

They had gone on for more than an hour, passing many intersections, before Herd stopped again. “I think we are safe now, at least for a time. Let us stop here for a little.”

They rested then and listened while Herd Eld told a strange tale of stalking the warlike Nekom—as the Nekom, themselves, stalked something or someone that was moving through the tunnels ahead of them. As he talked, Herd began to smile.

“It did not seem amusing at the time,” he said. “I was far too frightened to find it so. But when I picture it now—myself, creeping silently, with darkened lantern after a large group of Nekom, who were creeping silently after a quarry who seemed to be just ahead. Now and then Befal would give a signal—he alone was carrying a lighted lantern—and the Nekom would stop and listen; and then I could hear it, too. Something else was moving through the tunnels not far beyond.

“Then Befal decided it was time to charge. Suddenly the Nekom rushed forward into the darkness, and in a moment I heard screams of fright and the sounds of struggle. I arrived outside the ring of light from Befal’s lantern in time to see the stately Bruha release herself from the grasp of several Nekom and pronounce an awesome litany of curses on all Nekom, and on Axon Befal in particular.” Herd’s smile grew broader. “The Nekom had been following a half-dozen Hax-dok, led by Bruha, herself.”

“But how—?” Kanna said.

“Who knows. Perhaps the same enterprising bronze worker who led the Nekom to the tunnel earlier sold his services to the Hax-dok. Bruha had planned, no doubt, to witness the ritual by which our Ol-zhaan made possible our escape through the Root; and, having thus learned the secrets, she would return to Erda in triumph—where she would repeat the miracle—waiting, no doubt, only long enough for the Erdlings to offer her an appropriate amount of honor and power, in exchange for her magical services.

“At any rate, they argued mightily for some time—Bruha and Befal—shouting accusations; but at last Befal offered to allow the two Ol-zhaan to live long enough, after their capture, to teach Bruha their rituals. It was then that I began to put my plan into action.

“I retreated a little way down the tunnel, lit my lantern and turned it very low. Drawing their attention by crying out as though in fright, I turned and ran. They came after me in a thundering herd, perhaps twenty Nekom and five or six Hax-dok. I turned at the first intersecting tunnel and ran up it until I passed a mass of grundroot protruding from the tunnel wall. A few yards farther on I smashed my lantern, as though it had been dropped in flight, and then I ran back and crouched against the root.

“They thundered past, stopping for a moment, to examine the lantern, and then running on at top speed. And then I crept back to where you were waiting.”

Herd laughed then, unrestrainedly, and the others joined him, forgetting for the moment the trials and dangers that still lay ahead. For at least the tunnel before them was clear; the fern lay undisturbed marking the way; and somewhere ahead lay the secret opening and the forest of Green-sky.

“H
OW MANY DAYS HAS
it been?” Teera asked.

“Five, I think, or six,” Pomma told her. “I’m not sure anymore. It seems like forever and—” She stopped, noticing that Teera was, once more, close to tears. It still frightened her to see Teera cry, even though she had long since learned that the weeping did not last for long and seemed to do Teera no lasting harm. In fact, she sometimes seemed to be the better for it.

There had been times, in the last few days, when Pomma had even thought of trying it herself. Of throwing herself on the floor in a frenzy of sobs and gasps and flooding tears—just to see what it would feel like. In fact, she had tried, allowing herself to think of her parents and their grief and of her own growing fear that she and Teera were to be imprisoned for the rest of their lives. But although she could sometimes feel her eyes grow hot and wet, the first loud sob usually shocked her into silence. She had been too well trained in Joy.

Now, running to Teera, she threw her arms around her and held her close, comforting her with Spirit and with touch. “They will let us go soon,” she whispered. “Raamo won’t let them keep us here much longer.”

Before Teera could answer, there was the sound of footsteps just outside the door, and the Kindar serving man, Pino, entered, carrying a tray with food and drink. Pomma sighed with relief. Now Teera would not cry, at least not for a while. The coming of the time for food-taking was still a great comfort to Teera.

“And what games have you been playing today?” Pino asked, as he placed the tray on the tendril table and removed the plates of sliced pan-fruit and nutcake, bowls of spiced mushrooms and goblets of honeyed fruit juices.

“No games,” Pomma said.” We haven’t played any games today. We haven’t felt like playing.”

Pino D’erl returned to the heavy, tightly woven tendril door, but he did not open it, at least, not at once. Instead he waited, leaning against the door frame, and watched the children. They were eating now, two small girl children, one pale-haired and so delicately made as to seem half bird or butterfly. The other, more sturdily built with thick dark hair and a face that seemed to glow with rich, dark colors.

They were beautiful, Pino thought, but then many children were beautiful. But these two were unusual in other ways.

There was the fact, of course, that they had been brought here secretly by the master, D’ol Regle, and that their presence was not to be spoken of. The master had made that very clear. Pino was not to speak to anyone of the children—at any time—for any reason. And Pino had spoken to no one, just as he had promised.

Every day he had prepared their food just as he had been told to do; and sometimes he had stood outside the door and watched them for a time before he entered. He had stood there and watched them playing; and it was then that he knew that they were very, very unusual.

Watching them, there had been times when his breath forgot to come and go for amazement, and his heart pounded as it did when he dreamed of being chased by the Pash-shan.

He would have been very glad to discuss them with someone who might be able to explain, and thus relieve his fear that he had lost his wits or that his eyes no longer saw things truly. But he had promised, so he spoke to no one, not even to D’ol Regle himself.

Thus musing, Pino leaned in the doorway until suddenly one of the children, the dark one, noticed him and raised a hand in his direction. Perhaps it was only the start of a greeting, but Pino was frightened; and before the small hand could point directly at him, he slipped away. Closing the door behind him, he slid the heavy bars into place and hurried on about his business.

If the days since the abduction had seemed long and painful to Teera and Pomma, they had seemed at least as long to Raamo and D’ol Falla. Burdened with the knowledge of the children’s captivity and uncertain about the return of Genaa and Neric—and still undecided concerning what should be done in the face of the threat made by D’ol Regle and the Geets-kel—they lived each hour in increasing anxiety.

Each day Raamo continued to follow the schedule of the novice Ol-zhaan, attending an endless series of classes and ceremonies. The early hours of each morning still found him in the palace of the Vine-priest, and now he also came again in the evening. Each night after the food-taking in the Hall of Novices had been completed, he returned to wait and watch for the arrival of Neric and Genaa with the Verban, Hiro D’anhk. Before his departure, Neric had said that, on their return, they would approach the Temple Grove through the outer forest and wait in the outskirts of the grove until rain and darkness made it possible for them to reach the Vine Palace without being seen. So Raamo returned, every evening to wait with D’ol Falla until the mid-hours of the night; and while they waited, they spoke of the future and what it might bring.

They spoke of what Neric and Genaa might decide when they heard of the threat, and of what solutions might be offered. They spoke with hope of Hiro D’anhk, and of how, during his days as director of the Academy, he had been noted for his wisdom. And more and more often, D’ol Falla spoke of her own hope that Raamo would find an answer in foretelling.

In the days since the kidnapping of the children, D’ol Falla had spent many hours in the chamber of the Forgotten among the ancient books and records. There she had carefully noted every mention made of the Spirit-gift of foretelling. The references were few and brief, since the gift of foretelling had been rare, even in the early days. The greatest among the foretellers had never established and recorded a prescribed ritual, as had many who were gifted in other ways. But what little was recorded, D’ol Falla carefully copied and then repeated to Raamo during the long hours of their vigil.

Under the guidance of D’ol Falla, Raamo fasted and spent long hours in meditation. He learned the ancient chants attributed to the foretellers of the past. But all with little result.

It was on the seventh night after the taking of the children that D’ol Falla, once more, began to speak to Raamo concerning her hope for a foretelling.

“But I have felt so certain that you have the gift,” D’ol Falla told Raamo. “And you have said, yourself, that you foresaw the healing of your sister. You saw that she would be cured when a robed figure with small dark hands reached out to her. And then after the coming of the child, Teera, who is small and dark, the foretelling came true. Surely there is a chance that you could summon the Spirit-force once more, when Pomma is again in great danger. Surely you can find the answer.”