Paragaea (39 page)

Hieronymus was waiting in the municipal laundry for Leena when she returned.

“What happened?” Hieronymus said, jumping to his feet and rushing towards her. “Are you all right?”

“More than all right,” Leena said grimly, and held the Carneol out for his inspection. “Now, hand me my clothes so we can be away from here.”

As they had hoped, they found Balam at their rooms at the tavern, his unconscious daughter stretched out on a cot. Her head was bandaged, swaddled with turns of linen, but she seemed to be breathing regularly.

“How is she…?” Hieronymus began, then broke off when he saw his friend's tearstained cheeks.

“She has…She has yet to regain her senses,” Balam said, wiping his face dry on the back of his hand, smoothing out his fur. “But her injuries don't seem serious, and I think that she should be fine. Given time, she should be fine.”

The jaguar man knelt by the side of the cot, and took his insensate daughter's hand in his own.

“We need to be away, and quickly,” Leena said, gathering up her things, secreting the scarlet gem in her pack.

“Yes, the authorities are busy with the rabble for the moment,” Hieronymus said, stuffing his clothes and supplies into his own pack, “but they will begin searching for the agitators' ringleader before long”—he pointed at the unconscious Menchit—“and too many have seen her comings and goings for their search not to lead them straight here.”

“Agreed.” Balam took a deep breath, and rose to his feet. He began fastening the buckles of his harness, slipping his knives back into their sheaths.

“But what of Benu?” Leena said. “I should hate to abandon him here, without any word from us.”

“I won't risk my daughter's safety by waiting,” Balam said sternly.

“That won't be necessary,” said a voice from the door, and Hieronymus and Leena spun around, their swords drawn.

Benu stood in the open doorway, a strange expression on his face, his opalescent eyes unreadable.

“And now our company is complete,” Hieronymus said with a sigh of relief, sliding his saber back into its scabbard.

“No.” Benu shook his head, and smiled slightly. “I won't be going with you.”

Leena stopped short, and looked at the artificial man, confused. “Why ever not?”

Benu looked at the unconscious form of the Sinaa on the cot. “There isn't time to explain now. You must follow me into the caverns,
and quickly. I know a way out of the city by which you can avoid the city guards, and I have something to show you.”

With that, the artificial man turned, and hurried away down the corridor. Leena glanced at Hieronymus, who shrugged, as Balam carefully slung his daughter across his shoulder.

“Let's go, then,” Leena said, and followed Benu into the corridor.

They reached the city gates in the outer wall of the ninth ring without incident, and found only one guard on duty. Seeing the unconscious Sinaa female draped over Balam's shoulder, though, the guard was immediately brought on the defensive, raising his trident and shouting for them to halt immediately.

“I'm sorry, but we don't have time for this,” Benu said, and in an eyeblink, struck a lightning-fast blow with the heel of his palm to the guard's chin. The guard's head snapped back, violently, and he fell to the flagstones, his trident clattering to the ground beside him.

“Come along,” Benu called back impatiently over his shoulder, hurrying away from the gate at speed. “It wouldn't do to be apprehended so close to freedom.”

Benu's course carried him away from the city, towards the cave mouths that pocked the walls of the immense cavern, heading out into the eternal twilight.

Benu led them to the mouth of a wide tunnel, dimly lit and mysterious.

“I have discovered,” he explained, “why the wizard-kings of Atla were interested in the Lathe Mountains, and how Hele came to be.”

“This is fascinating trivia, I'm sure,” Hieronymus said as the artificial man stepped into the gloom of the cave mouth, motioning them to follow, “but I fail to see its relevance to our present circumstances. I thought you knew of some passage out of these caverns, and yet you lead us now to a cave which to all appearances will lead us even further from daylight.”

“You will see,” Benu said, disappearing into the darkness beyond the tunnel mouth. “All answers are revealed within.”

Hieronymus, Leena, and Balam were left standing in the twilight, peering into the darkened cave tunnel. On his shoulder, Balam's daughter stirred, moaning piteously in her sleep.

“Well,” Leena said, glancing back at the walls of the city, and the tram tracks that mounted the opposite wall of the cavern. “I don't see that we have much choice, at this point.”

“The tram is too closely guarded,” Balam said. “We'd have to fight our way to the surface, and I question how effective I would be in combat with Menchit across my back.”

“Agreed,” Hieronymus said. “Well, let's hope our strange artificial friend has discovered something miraculous, indeed.”

As they moved deeper into the tunnel, Leena's eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she could see faintly in grays and blacks, a monochromatic world. If the cavern of Hele was a perpetual twilight, the tunnel was a moonless night.

Benu was in the lead, directing them with the sound of his voice, while the others followed close behind, trying to stay within arm's reach of one another. Periodically they reached a juncture between two tunnels, and Benu would pause for them to catch up before starting down a branch.

“Regard the snaking character of the tunnels, my friends,” Benu said. “And your eyes may not have the sensitivity to see them in fine detail, but the shadows you see on the tunnel walls are other, smaller veins, some no wider than a finger's breadth, which intersect the larger passages at intervals.”

“We seem no closer to the surface,” Balam growled. “The only sight I wish to see is clear blue skies overhead. I've had enough of these damned caverns to last two lifetimes.”

“But what engenders such strange ducts in living rock?” Benu went on. “There's no evidence of volcanism here, and even if there were, the passage of molten rock or volcanic gases does not produce artifacts such as these. So whence came they?”

“I detect a rhetorical tone to your words,” Hieronymus said impatiently, “and suspect that you already have an answer to your questions.”

“Quite so,” Benu said, and turned down a branching corridor.

As Leena came around the bend, she saw a faint light glowing up ahead. “What…is that?”

“I would tell you now,” Benu said with a smile, “but I do so hate to spoil the surprise.”

The company continued down the tunnel, the light around them intensifying as they drew near the juncture up ahead.

Benu stopped at the juncture, and gestured beyond the curve of the tunnel wall, glancing back eagerly at the company. “There,” he said proudly. “There are all your answers.”

Leena and Hieronymus rounded the corner, Balam following close behind, and found themselves in a wide chamber, lit bright as day. To their left, a passage branched off, climbing at a steep angle, while to their right, against a far wall, hovered a silver sphere, twin to the one that had brought Leena to Paragaea.

“A gate!” Leena said in an urgent whisper.

“Yes,” Benu said, taking a few steps towards the silver sphere. “Gates seem to appear with startling regularity within the Lathe
Mountains, but they are transient, lasting sometimes for moments, sometimes more than a century. But, short-lived as they are, they migrate, moving from one point to another before disappearing. It was these wandering gates that carved out the tunnel complexes of Hele.” Benu pointed to the passage branching to the left. “That corridor leads to the surface, and will take you to the southern foothills of Lathe.”

“So why aren't you coming with us?” Hieronymus said, his eyes on the silvery sphere.

“Because I intend to traverse the gate,” Benu said, “and see what lies on the other side.”

“What?” Balam said, drawing back.

“And why wouldn't I? When I first joined your company, in the forests of Altrusia, I indicated my desire to travel to Earth. It will be an entire world of new information to gather. I'd have purpose once more, with an unwritten book of knowledge to fill.”

Leena stepped forward, mesmerized by the floating sphere. “I'm going with you,” she said breathlessly.

“You'll do no such thing!” Hieronymus said, grabbing hold of her arm. “You have no way of knowing when or where the gate will take you. Benu may be willing to take that risk, but I thought that you wanted to return to your own time and place, not just any chance point in Earth's history.”

Leena looked from Hieronymus to the silvery sphere, and nodded reluctantly. “You're right, of course,” she said at length. “I just…I just don't know how close I'll come again.”

“Have faith, little sister,” Hieronymus said, smiling. “We'll press on to Atla. If the wizard-kings know how to predict or map gates of particular characteristics, I promise you we'll squeeze the knowledge from them.”