Incarceron (Incarceron, Book 1) (13 page)

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falling onto the transitway, Keiro yanking him out. They hoisted Gildas up, and speechless, stared down. Stabs of light flickered far below. Red alarms rang; tendrils of gas made Finn cough. Through watering eyes he saw a panel shoot sideways across the shaft, sealing it with a clang. And then, silence.

***

THEY DIDN'Tspeak. Gildas took the creature's hand and Finn stumbled behind with Keiro, because now the climb and the fight were taking their toll, and Keiro was suddenly exhausted, his cuts dripping a telltale trail of blood on the metallic walkways. They hurried without stopping through the labyrinth of tunnels, past doorways with Civicry markings, barred entrances, squeezing through a portcullis with vast, useless squares. And always they were listening, because if the Civicry found them, they would stand no chance. Finn found himself sweating at each turn of the passage, at each distant clang or echoing whisper, straining his ears at shadows and a scurrying Beetle, sweeping a small chamber in endless circles.

After an hour, limping with weariness, Gildas led them into a passageway that became a sloping gallery lit by rows of alert Eyes, and at its top, far up in the dark, he stopped and slid down against a tiny locked door.

Finn helped Keiro to sit and collapsed beside him. The dog-creature was a huddle on the floor. For a moment the narrow

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space was racked with painful breathing. Then Gildas roused himself.

"The Key," he croaked. "Before they find us." Finn took it out. There was a single crack in the door, hexagonal, ringed with speckles of quartz. He put the Key in the lock and turned it.

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11

***

As for poor Caspar, I pity those who have to put up with him. But you are ambitious and we
are bound together now. Your daughter will be Queen and my son King. The price is paid. If

you fail me, you know what I will do.

-- Queen Sia to the Warden of Incarceron; private letter

***

"Why here?" Claudia trailed after him, between the hedges. "Obviously," Jared murmured, "because no one else can find the way through."

Nor could she. The yew maze was ancient and complex, the thick hedges impenetrable. Once when she was small, she had been lost in here for a whole long summers day, wandering and sobbing with anger, and the nurse and Ralph had organized a search and been almost hysterical with panic before she'd been found sleeping under the astrolabe in the central glade. She didn't remember getting there, but sometimes now, at the edge of her dreams, the drowsy heat came back to her, the bees, the brass sphere against the sun.

"Claudia. You've missed the turn."

She backtracked, and found him waiting, patiently. "Sorry. Miles away."

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Jared knew the way well. The maze was one of his favorite haunts; he came here to read and study and discreetly test various forbidden devices. Today it was peaceful after the frantic packing and panic in the house. Threading the mown paths after his shadow, Claudia breathed in the rose-scents, fingering the Key in her pocket.

It was a perfect day, not too hot, a few delicate clouds. A shower of rain was scheduled for three fifteen, but they should be finished by then. As she turned a corner and came suddenly to the central glade, she looked around in surprise.

"It's smaller than I remembered."

Jared raised an eyebrow. "Things always are."

The astrolabe was blue-green copper and apparently decorative; beside it a wrought-iron seat sank elegantly into the turf, a bush of bloodred roses rambling over its back. Daisies studded the grass.

Claudia sat, knees up under her silk dress. "Well?"

Jared put his scanner away. "Seems safe." He turned and sat on the bench, leaning forward, his frail hands nervously folding together. "So. Tell me."

She repeated Evian's conversation quickly, and he listened, frowning. When she'd finished she said, "It may be a trap, of course."

"Possible."

She watched him. "What do you know about these Steel

Wolves? Why wasn't I told?"

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He didn't look up, and that was a bad sign; she felt a thread of fear unwind down her spine.

Then he said, 'I've heard of them. There have been rumors, but no one's sure who is involved, or how real the conspiracy is. Last year an explosive device was discovered in the Palace, in a room where the Queen was expected. Nothing new there, but a small emblem was found too, hanging from the window catch, a small metal wolf." He watched a ladybug scaling a blade of grass. "What will you do?"

"Nothing. Yet." She took the Key out and held it in both hands, letting the sunlight catch its facets. "I'm not an assassin."

He nodded, but seemed preoccupied, staring hard at the crystal.

"Master?"

"Something's happening." Absorbed, he reached out for the Key and took it from her. "Look at it, Claudia."

The tiny lights were back, this time moving deep, a rapid, repeated pattern. Jared placed the artifact quickly on the bench. "It's getting warm."

Not only that, but there were sounds coming from it. She brought her face nearer, heard a clatter and a ripple of musical notes.

Then the Key spoke.

"Nothings happening''
it said.

Claudia gasped and jerked away; wide-eyed she stared at Jared. "Did you ...?"

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"Quiet. Listen!"

Another voice, older, rasping. "Look closer, fool boy. There are lights inside it."

Claudia knelt, fascinated. Jared's delicate fingers slid silently into his pocket. He took the scanner out and placed it beside the Key, recording.

The Key chimed, a soft sound. The first voice came again, oddly distant and excited. "It's opening. Get back!"

And then a sound came out of the artifact, a heavy clang, ominous and hollow, so that she took a moment to register it, to recognize what it was.

A door. Unlocking.

A heavy, metallic door, perhaps ancient, because it groaned on its hinges, and there was a clatter and smash, as if rust fell, or debris shuddered from its lintel.

Then silence.

The lights in the Key reversed, changed to green, went out. Only the rooks in the elms by the moat karked. A blackbird landed in the rosebush and flicked its tail. "Well," Jared said softly.

He adjusted the scanner and ran it over the Key again. Claudia reached out and touched the crystal. It was cold. "What happened? Who were they?"

Jared turned the scanner to show her. "It was a fragment of conversation. Real-time. A phonic link opened and closed very briefly. Whether you initiated it or they did I'm not sure."

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"They didn't know we were listening."

"Apparently not."

"One of them said, 'There are lights inside it.'"

The Sapient's dark eyes met hers. "You're thinking they may have a similar device?"

"Yes!" She scrambled up, too excited to sit, and the blackbird flew off in alarm. "Listen, Master, as you said, this isn't just a key to Incarceron. Maybe it's also a device to communicate!"

"With the Prison?"

"The inmates."

"Claudia ..."

"Think about it! No one can go there. How else does he monitor the Experiment? Overhear what's happening?"

He nodded, his hair in his eyes. "It's possible."

"Only..." She frowned, knotting her fingers together. Then she turned on him. "They sounded wrong."

"You must be more precise in speech, Claudia. How, wrong?"

She searched for the word. When it came, it surprised her. "They sounded scared."

Jared considered. "Yes ... they did."

"And what would they be scared of? There's nothing to fear in a perfect world, is there?"

Doubtfully, he said, "We may have overheard some form of drama. A broadcast."

"But if they have that ... plays, films, then they have to know about danger, and risk, and terror. Is that possible? Can

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you do that if your world is perfect? Would they even be able to create such a story?"

The Sapient smiled. "That is a point we could debate, Claudia. Some people would say your own world is perfect, and yet you know those things."

She scowled. "All right. There's something else too." She tapped the wide-winged eagle. "Is this just for listening? Or can we use it to speak to them?"

He sighed. "Even if we can, we shouldn't. Conditions in Incarceron are strictly controlled; everything was carefully calculated. If we introduce variables, if we open even a tiny keyhole into that place, we may ruin everything. We can't admit germs into Paradise, Claudia."

Claudia turned. "Yes, but..."

She froze.

Behind Jared, in the gap in the hedges, her father was standing. He was watching her. For a moment her heart leaped with the terrible shock; then she let the practiced smile slip gracefully over her face. Sir!

Jared stiffened. The Key lay on the bench; he slid out his hand, but it was just out of reach.

"I've been looking everywhere for you both." The Warden's voice was soft, his dark velvet coat an emptiness at the heart of the sunlit glade. Jared looked up at Claudia, white-faced. If he saw the Key ....

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The Warden smiled calmly. "I have some news, Claudia. The Earl of Steen has arrived. Your fiancé is looking for you."

For one cold moment she stared at him. Then she stood, slowly.

"Lord Evian is entertaining him but will only bore him. Are you pleased, my dear?"

He came to take her hand; she wanted to step aside to hide the glittering crystal from him, but she couldn't move. Then Jared gave a murmur and slumped forward slightly.

"Master?" Alarmed, she broke from her father's grip. "Are you in pain?"

Jared's voice was hoarse. "I ... No ... Just faint, for a moment. Nothing to worry about."

She helped him to sit up. The Warden stood above them, his face a mask of concern. He said, "I'm afraid you're overdoing things lately, Jared. Sitting out in the sun is not good for you. And so much study, at all hours of the night."

Jared stood shakily. "Yes. Thank you, Claudia. I'm fine now. Really."

"Perhaps you should get some rest," she said.

"I will. I'll go up to my tower, I think. Please excuse me, sir."

He stumbled up. For one terrible second Claudia thought her father would not move. He and Jared stood face-to-face. Then the Warden stepped back, his smile wry. "If you'd like supper sent up, we'll have it seen to."

Jared just nodded.

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Claudia watched her tutor walk carefully between the yew hedges. She dared not look at the bench, but she knew it would be empty.

The Warden went and sat down, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. "A remarkable man, the Sapient."

She said, "Yes. How did you get in here?"

He laughed. "Oh Claudia. I designed this maze before you were born. No one knows its secrets as I do, not even your precious Jared." He turned, one arm over the back of the bench. Quietly he said, "I think you have done something to disobey me, Claudia."

She swallowed. "Have I?"

Her father nodded gravely. Their eyes met.

He was doing what he always did, teasing her, playing games with her. Quite suddenly she couldn't bear it anymore, the plotting, the stupid game. She stood, furious. "All right! It was me who broke into your study." She faced him, her face hot with anger. "You know that, you've known it since you went in there, so why are we pretending! I wanted to see inside, arid you never let me. You never let me in. So I broke in. I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry!"

He stared at her. Was he shaken? She couldn't tell. But she was shaking, all the pent-up fear and rage of years bursting out, the fury that he made her life so false, and Jared's too.

He held up a hand hastily. "Claudia, please! Of course I knew. I'm not angry. Rather, I admire your ingenuity. It will come in useful in your life at the Palace."

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She stared. For a moment he had been startled. More than that. Dismayed.

And he had not mentioned the Key.

The breeze rippled the rosebush, bringing a waft of its cloying scent, a silent surprise that he had revealed so much. When he spoke again his voice had its normal acid tone. "I hope you and Jared enjoyed the challenge." He stood abruptly. "The Earl is waiting."

She scowled. "I don't want to see him."

"You have no choice." He bowed and strode toward the gap in the hedge, and she swung around and glared at his back. Then she said, "Why are there no pictures of my mother in the house?"

She had no idea she was going to say it. It came out in a harsh demand quite unlike her own voice.

He stopped dead.

Her heart thudded; she was appalled at herself. She didn't want him to turn, to answer, didn't want to see his face. Because if he showed weakness, she would be terrified; his controlled poise was hateful and yet if it broke, she had no idea what might be underneath.

But he spoke without turning. "Don't go too far, Claudia. Don't try my patience."

***

WHEN HE was gone she found she was sitting on the bench in a huddle, the muscles of her back and shoulders tight with tension, her hands clenched on the silk of her skirt. She made herself take a slow breath.