Artemis Awakening (38 page)

Eventually, Griffin did lose control, but the only thing that suffered was his bedding. By the time he and Narda drifted off to sleep—they both had worked through the day—Griffin had a great deal to pass on to Terrell and Adara.

He was fascinated that Narda asked him nothing about his own plans. Then he realized that she was all too aware that what she didn’t know, she couldn’t tell—a realization that made him shiver in awareness of the conditions under which she had lived.

Sometime in the night, they woke. The candles had burned down, but the Old One had permitted Griffin both matches and fresh candles. By the light of a single candle, they ate Griffin’s neglected dessert.

Softly, Narda said, “Do not ask for me again. Say you were not pleased. Ask instead for Zenobia … You have been shown her, I think.”

Griffin nodded. His memory was excellent. He remembered Zenobia indeed, an opulently built woman for whom being overweight only accented her gifts.

“Zenobia?”

“She has advantages that I do not. She can also be trusted.”

“You trust me?”

Narda gave him a truly brilliant smile. “Ring said a cat, a cord, and a head of golden grain would open a door. He also warned we must be neither silent or idle, yet both silent and idle. From the first rumors of you, we have dared hope.”

“Ring.”

“The Old One only held Ring because Ring would be held.”

“He’s frightening.”

“To himself, most of all…” Narda said. “When you asked for me, did you know Ring is my son?”

“No. I saw the expression in your eyes when you looked at Julyan. I thought you were unbroken.”

Her tiny smile held an infinity of sorrow. “Not broken? With my poor boy … half mad. I’ve been broken, then regrown crooked, twisted, and stronger.”

*   *   *

The next night, Griffin refused a bed mate. Instead, he did his best to pass on Narda’s information to Terrell. The factotum’s readiness to come charging in immediately was clear, but Griffin asked him to wait until he learned what he could from Zenobia.

He was glad that he did. One of the things that had troubled Griffin was that a nighttime escape would be preferable for many reasons—including the fact that the Old One was less likely to be present. However, even though Griffin was increasingly trusted, each night his door was locked behind him.

Zenobia, it turned out, held the answer to keys. Unbeknownst to the Old One, the man who had fathered two children upon her had come to care first for the children, then for their mother.

“The Old One is very wise in many things,” Zenobia explained in a deep, rusty whisper, “but in matters of the heart … he is deficient. Perhaps once, long, long ago, he knew how to care, but he has put that from him.”

“As a weakness,” Griffin murmured.

“And it has become a different weakness. The Old One believes that given choice of many partners, a man will not bond with one. He has us couple in darkness and seems to think that means we will not know each other.” She chuckled and Griffin involuntarily saluted the movement of her ample breasts. “As if any man could not pick me out from the rest, even if he has only known me bound and gagged in the darkness!”

“And your man…”

“Cordie. He knows me. We have guessed which are our children, though the Old One tries hard to prevent that, too. He forgets that in dealing with the adapted, he is dealing with more than human.”

Momentarily distracted, Griffin asked, “Do all of you know your children, then?”

“No, but I know mine. I saw their faces when they still swam within me.”

Once Griffin would have doubted this, but that was before his dreams had become entwined with Terrell’s.

“Now Cordie wants me—not so much free but bound only to him. I can live with that, oh, easily. Cordie can get keys that will open the interior doors. We have been stopped in that he does not know how to leave the islands, either by boat or by tunnel. The Old One keeps that knowledge for himself alone. I am not certain even Julyan knows how to open the tunnels.”

Griffin did not tell Zenobia he did or that his friends did. Narda had taught him the value of silence. Nor did Zenobia ask. It still made his skin crawl at how automatically these people assumed blind trust was best.

“How do I get a message to you, so you know when to be ready?”

“Don’t. If needed, you will be released when the time comes. Trust us.”

And, of course, Griffin had no choice but to do so.

Interlude: Seek & Seek

Velvet darkness, soft as sound.

     My other self, my shadow,

     Can you hear me?

My shadow, my other self,

     I can …

          Wait!

I can hear??? You? Who?

Scent of musk, of earth mold, of moonlight.

Turn as one, on two feet, four paws.

In velvet darkness (soft as sound)

     Unfolds phosphorescent glow,

          pale as dreams.

But this is not a dream.

She has no face

     No eyes

          No lips

But within dreamlight

     She smiles.

And we are, we are …

     Lost?

          Found.

21

End to Impatience

The last double handful of days would have been enough to drive anyone but a hunter mad with impatience. However, Bruin had been the best of teachers, and, as Adara kept reminding Terrell, stalking the prey, making sure blade or arrow would go in cleanly were as important as the moment of attack.

“You and Griffin are miracles,” she concluded. “I might even become jealous at this sudden closeness.”

“Adara…” Terrell glowered at her. “Don’t tease. I’d rather share your dreams than his.”

“You don’t know that,” Adara replied, thinking how very odd those dreams had been of late. Then she forced a grin. “You need to laugh, Terrell. Tie the bowstring too tightly and when you draw it back, it snaps. Shall I tickle you instead of teasing?”

“Do that and I’ll definitely snap,” Terrell retorted, but he was grinning now. “Griffin’s—uh—information gathering has leaked through more than he probably realizes. Even a gentleman pays for whispered conferences with naked women.”

Adara wondered why she didn’t feel jealous. She thought there would have been a time when she would have. Now all she felt was pity for Griffin.

Maybe when this is all over, when my own dreams settle … I keep counseling patience when what I long for is a good fight, something to clear my heart and mind.

The hardest part of waiting were those times she and Terrell went by the Sanctum to help the Old One with his work, for now more than ever they did not wish to seem other than respectful. Occasionally, Adara even went alone. She did not really think the Old One would harm her, but she always left Sand Shadow elsewhere, since the demiurge would know if her partner was in trouble.

And I would not let myself be used as a hostage—not when so many other lives rest on it. I think both Terrell and Griffin would know whatever love I held for them would dry up and vanish if they permitted me to be so used.

At long last, the time came when Griffin said he could learn no more. He asked to be told when they would come and cautioned that not all the men were as sympathetic to the Old One’s cause as it might seem. He sent images of a few he knew could be trusted, of a few who could not.

Terrell did his best to describe these men to Adara, cursing that while he was quite good at cartography and sketching, he had never studied portrait drawing.

“Another skill I will need to learn, especially if I am to serve Griffin as I should.”

Adara kept her bemusement at this strengthening bond to herself. No matter what the Old One thought, no matter what Griffin himself thought, the factotum in Terrell was certain that Griffin was among the seegnur returned.

*   *   *

Based on Terrell’s conferences with Griffin, they decided to make their attack by night. They told the Trainers they would be off camping for a few days, investigating some interesting trade opportunities inland from Spirit Bay. This gave them excuse to take not only Tarnish and Midnight, but also Molly and Sam the Mule.

The night was very dark when they arrived at the entrance behind the waterfall.

“Tonight the horses will need to care for themselves,” Adara said. “I want Sand Shadow with us.”

“So do I,” Terrell assured her. “Three seems a small enough group to attack an entire base.”

“But once we get inside,” Adara reminded him, “we will have allies.”

Both had memorized the map Terrell had created from Griffin’s dreams. Once they were in, Terrell would head for where Cordie was usually stationed. If Cordie was not there, Terrell would go to his rooms. Then the two of them would release Griffin. Meanwhile, Adara and Sand Shadow would release the women and children. While these escaped, they would hang back and provide cover.

Neither tried to construct a more complex plan, for both knew they would be adapting as soon as they opened the door that would take them beneath Mender’s Isle.

Fearing an alarm, both humans held their breath as they opened the final lock into the shuttle repair base. No gong sounded and, with only slight noise, the door came loose. They closed it behind them in case this area was under patrol, but did not secure it.

With Sand Shadow leading, they prowled up the corridor. All was silent. Ahead dim light showed, bright after the dark tunnel, probably created by a few lanterns hung to the walls. When they came to where their paths must part, Terrell grabbed Adara and gave her a solid kiss.

“For luck,” he whispered, then moved cautiously toward where he would hopefully find Cordie on duty.

Adara flashed him a grin, but she was already on the move. The women and children were kept in the farthest reaches of the repair base, in an area devoid of any possible scientific interest. Once, twice, she and Sand Shadow ghosted around the drowsy guards. The third Adara subdued before he knew she was there, gagging him, then binding his hands behind his back. She was bending to hobble him when the sound of voices nearly made her heart stop.

From not too far away—in an area Terrell’s map had marked as “Administration”—came the Old One’s voice, carrying easily through the relative silence.

“After you do that, Julyan, feel free to turn in. I’ll be working here a while longer, but I want to be back at the Sanctum well before morning. I’m expecting some prominent guests.”

“Very good, sir. If you need me, I’ll be taking my filly for a spin before I go to my room, so check there first.”

“Always dutiful,” the Old One said blandly.

“That’s me, sir.”

Adara froze, listening. A door shut. A single set of footsteps, moving quietly, but audible to ears that were listening, receded.

We have a short time, then,
she thought.
But Julyan will be back—I’m sure I know where his “filly” is stabled. Do we call this off? Hope we haven’t been noticed? Come back another night?

But she decided they were past that point. No alert had been called, so Terrell had probably safely reached Cordie. Griffin might even be loose. They couldn’t lock him up again—not in any fairness. And if they took him but not the prisoners …

Adara was moving even before she had decided these points. The map had included where Narda and Zenobia slept. Unless they were being punished or nursing, the women slept in dormitories, so they could keep watch on one another. Other than this, the areas were not guarded.

Slipping past the curtain that served as a door, Adara moved unerringly to where Zenobia’s bulk lifted the light sheet that was her only cover on this hot summer night.

She knelt and placed her hand over the woman’s mouth, saying softly, “Adara is here. Wake!”

Zenobia came alert with such poise that Adara might have thought she had been waiting. Perhaps she had some small gift for reading minds or precognition. Zenobia nodded, then pointed to three different beds. That meant each of these held someone who could not be trusted, either because she had been thoroughly broken or was simply untrustworthy.

Adara nodded, then moved to the closest. She’d brought with her a supply of soft cloth strips to serve either as gags or ties. Now she set about subduing the women. Outside, Sand Shadow stood ready, listening for Julyan or any other sign that alert had given.

Meanwhile, Zenobia was waking the remainder of the women. Some must have been briefed in advance—probably those who could be completely trusted. Others were clearly surprised, but life in these conditions had made them obedient to any authority.

It’s going well,
Adara thought.
About time for something to go very wrong.

*   *   *

Griffin suspected Terrell was coming even though his friend had not given him specific notice. Tension invaded his dreams: a paradoxical rattle of carefully kept silence. Therefore, he was awake, dressed, and waiting when the lock to his cell snapped open.

“Griffin?” Terrell held aloft a single candle.

“Here. Ready.”

“Wait.”

Cordie followed Terrell into the room. Even the light of the candle was enough to show the fierce determination on his rounded features.

“Cordie has news. The Old One is here tonight. I was wondering…”

“Should we take him? Yes! If we had him hostage…”

“Exactly.”

Cordie nodded. “Not even Julyan would put the Old One at risk. The prisoners would be assured a safe escape—we might even be able to put off pursuit for several days, if not permanently.”

Griffin nodded. “I don’t want to kill him. He’s a beast in many ways, but there’s knowledge in his head that would be lost.”

Terrell grinned lopsidedly. “Sand Shadow would be offended by you comparing the Old One to a beast, but I know what you mean. I’m not much for murder, either.”

“Besides,” Griffin said, “I want a chance to go over this facility. The Old One must know things he hasn’t told us. He could be very useful.”

“You’re not going to postpone the escape,” Cordie said, fingers drifting to the sword at his belt, “not so you can search about.”