The Mapmaker's Sons (21 page)

“We never did find Salamaine's true heir,” he reminded Porter.

“One battle at a time. Depending on what happens with The Watch, we may not live long enough to get the stones.”

Porter was paraphrasing Umbrey. And though Tom matched his grim smile with one of his own, the expression was forced. Battle, blood, and
betrayal,
said Marrick's prophecy. Betrayal of whom? Was Keegan expecting them, and if so, what were they walking into? Try as he might to put his fears into perspective, Tom couldn't shake the feeling of dark foreboding that hung over him. He rubbed his palm, still sore from the thick splinter. Something was wrong, but he just couldn't see it.

He glanced at his brother. Since gaining the sword, Porter had been strangely quiet. Yet the energy pulsing through him was almost palpable. It was only natural, Tom supposed. After fulfilling a prophecy that had been thrust upon them since birth, maybe they should both be a little edgy.

Suddenly something struck him that he hadn't considered before. “Umbrey,” he said slowly, feeling around the edges of an idea. “Was it at all strange that he happened to find me at the exact moment The Watch appeared?”

Porter frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure. It's just odd. The passage between worlds had been shut for years, then the three of them show up at nearly the same moment …”

They rounded a bend in the river, and Porter motioned him to silence. A single light appeared on the horizon.
The evening's first star,
Tom thought, and then quickly corrected himself. No. Not a star. The light from the tower guarding Keegan's gates. They'd reached the portal to the city. Just as the map had shown them.

The Djembe silently guided the boats to the river's edge and banked them there. They gathered their weapons and disembarked, their movements as low and still as the gentle lapping of the current. The army was ready. Now it was Tom's turn.

He stepped from the boat and stationed himself between Porter and Willa. Ahead of him loomed an enormous wooden gate, a medieval-style protection against invaders. Flanking the gates were miles of sheer rock walls that encircled the heart of Divino, Keegan's central domain. A guarded tower at the top of the structure controlled the opening and closing of the gate. During daylight hours, Letters of Passage permitted select citizens to pass through the gates. At night, all traffic was forbidden.

Tom surveyed the tower. Roughly three stories tall, but manageable. Enough footholds for him to gain the top without any trouble. It wasn't the climb that worried him, but what he would find inside: Keegan's Watch. The question was, how many would he face?

Porter removed his dagger. He hesitated before passing it to Tom. “I'll come with you.”

Tom gave a quick shake of his head and tucked his brother's
dagger into his belt. It made no sense for Porter to go. Tom was a much faster climber than Porter, and if something did happen to Tom and he wasn't able to open the gates, Porter and the Djembe army would have no choice but to take Keegan's guard by force. It would be up to Porter to lead that charge.

Next came the Sword of Five Kingdoms. Porter tucked the sword into the animal-skin sheath that held the map and passed it to Tom. Tom slipped it on, adjusting the straps until it hung comfortably across his back.

“Remember the plan,” Porter said. “Open the gates and then come back to the boat. Handle the guard as best you can, then wait for us here. No matter what happens, stay with the boat. The Djembe warriors will do the fighting. We'll meet you back here with the stones.”

“Yes. We've been over it.”

Porter glanced over his shoulder, then leaned closer to Tom. “If we don't make it back, take the sword and flee to the Other Side. Do whatever it takes to keep the sword out of Keegan's reach.”

Perfect. There were only a million things that could go wrong. Maybe more.

He moved to go, but Willa stopped him. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed a small kiss against his cheek. “Good luck.”

Tom's heart knocked against his chest, then began beating at three times its normal rate—whether from the unexpected kiss or the reality of what he was about to undertake, he couldn't say. He gave a quick nod, ruffled Mudge's hair, and was off.

The moon hung full and heavy in the sky. Bright. Almost too bright. Crouching low, he raced from the cover of trees until he was nearly at the tower base. A strong gust of wind whipped past him. He waited a beat until the next breeze blew a cloud over the surface of the moon. Then, temporarily cloaked by blackness, he darted to the tower wall.

He moved straight upward, faster than he'd ever climbed, scaling the tower without difficulty. Once at the top, he peered through an open slit in the rock wall and looked into the
guardroom. Three shadowy forms moved within, their tall black boots clicking against the cold stone floor; the red eyes clasped at the shoulders of their capes floated eerily in the darkness. The Watch.

Not great odds, but he could have faced worse. He scanned the room. His gaze fell on a long wooden lever projecting from an opening in the floor—the mechanism used to open the gates. He moved quickly, before he could reconsider. Gripping Porter's dagger between his teeth, he thrust himself feet first through the opening in the wall and slammed his body into the back of the nearest guard. The guard's head hit the wall with an audible crack. He collapsed to the floor, his black cape puddled around him.

Tom tucked the dagger into his belt and shot across the room while the element of surprise was still in his favor. He lunged for the wooden lever. But the guards were too seasoned to be idle for long. One guard spun around, bringing up his arm and smashing it against Tom's chest. The blow caught him midstride, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him slamming to the floor. The Sword of Five Kingdoms, sheathed against his back, bit into his spine.

As the guard brought down his boot, intending to drive it into Tom's face, Tom rolled right. He caught the boot on his shoulder blade rather than his cheek. Stumbling to his feet, he drew Porter's dagger. The guard didn't hesitate. He swung his sword, knocking the weapon from Tom's hand and sending it skittering away.

Tom backed up a step, his gaze darting from the two remaining guards to the wooden lever. One flying leap. He might have a chance to reach it.

He thrust his hand into his jeans pocket as though to withdraw a weapon, hoping the feint would buy him a second or two, when his fingers came upon a small, soft pouch. A plan,
bred of pure desperation, took root in his mind. He waited a beat, his back against the wall, as the two guards converged upon him. Then, when he could almost feel their breath upon his cheek, he sprayed the pouch's fine, powdery contents directly in their faces.

The guards howled and stumbled backward, careening blindly away from him, just as the swamp dogs had done when they'd received their dose of pepper powder.

Tom shoved past them and dove on the wooden lever. He leaned on the release, tugging it toward the floor with all his might. Slowly the lever moved. Outside, the enormous wooden gates groaned open.

The Djembe battle roar filled the night air.
Aiy-aiy-aiy-aiy!
Hundreds of warriors chanted together as they flooded through the gates and poured into the market square. Their iridescent armor glistened in the moonlight, giving them the fearsome appearance of an army of wrathful ghosts.

Tom spun around, intending to scale down the tower before the guards recovered, but a solitary figure blocked his way.

“Thought you might be in a bit of a spot here, lad. But it looks like you've learned how to take care of yourself.”

Umbrey.

Tom blinked. “How'd you get in here? Where's your grappling hook?”

“My grappling hook?” Umbrey studied him in confusion, and then a slow smile of comprehension broke across his face. “While I do love a dramatic entrance, I thought it'd be easier if I took the stairs this time.” He slid back a plank in the floor to reveal a circular metal staircase, similar to the kind found in lighthouses.

Of course. It hadn't occurred to Tom to consider how Keegan's guards made it to the top of the tower.

“I figured you and Porter would be coming through these gates,” Umbrey continued, “and I thought you might need a hand.” The Djembe's battle cries echoed off the stone walls. Turning away, Umbrey moved to an opening in the wall and shot a glance at the scene below. “Friends of yours?”

Tom nodded, silent. Although Umbrey's face was hidden in shadow, something about his tone wasn't right. Apprehension knotted Tom's gut. Through battle, blood, and
betrayal.
The words of the prophecy suddenly echoed through his mind. His palm throbbed as he looked at Umbrey. “What's going on? Is everything all right?”

Umbrey answered the question with one of his own. “The sword?”

“I have it.”

“Where?”

Tom brought around the animal-skin sheath he'd been wearing across his back, holding it up for Umbrey to see. “Here. With the map.”

“Then everything's fine. Excellent, in fact. You've done well, lad. Better than I could have hoped.”

The roar of clashing armies filled the night air. Tom joined Umbrey at the window and looked at the square below. The Watch and the Djembe surged against each other like two swirling tides, swords clashing and lances thrusting in deadly hand-to-hand combat.

Umbrey gave a decisive nod. “Looks like we're late to the party. Come. Follow me.”

Tom trailed behind as Umbrey—moving at remarkable speed for a one-legged man—shot down the circular staircase. Umbrey threw open the door at the base of the tower to reveal a world pitched into chaos. The battle raged all around them. The din of blade striking blade, combined with shrieks of rage and groans of pain, was deafening. Blood seeped into the cobblestone ground. Bodies of the dead and wounded had already begun to litter the courtyard. The brutality of the fight, the roar of the combat, was worse than Tom could ever have imagined.

He staggered to a stop, temporarily thrown off-balance by the nightmarish quality of the scene. Porter, Willa, Mudge. Where were they? He gazed around wildly, searching for a glimpse of them.

Umbrey gave him a shove to get him moving.

“This way, lad!” he shouted above the roar of the battle.

“No! I'm meeting them back at the boat!”

“I'm afraid that's not going to happen. The Watch grabbed them as soon as they moved through the gates. Your friends tried to fight back, but it was useless. Porter's hurt—it's bad, lad. And now Keegan has them.”

Umbrey's words shot through the panicked jumble of Tom's thoughts. Porter was hurt. Badly hurt. Their plan—that during the chaos of battle, Porter, Willa, and Mudge would go after the stones—hadn't worked. They had grossly miscalculated the deadly determination of The Watch.

“Where are they?” Tom asked.

“Keegan's private quarters. I'll show you the way.”

Tom grabbed Umbrey's arm as he turned away. “Wait, I can't. Not with the sword.” He glanced around, his thoughts spinning as the battle continued to rage around them. “Let me leave it at the boat, then we'll go—”

“Leave the sword? Are you daft?” Umbrey's face darkened. “Didn't you understand me? Keegan has your brother.”

“I know! But we can't risk losing—”

“What, the sword? You'd choose that over your own brother?”

“No! That's not what I'm saying!”

“Then listen, lad. The only thing we have to bargain with is that sword. Keegan doesn't care if Porter lives or dies, but he wants that sword. If we go to Keegan without it, Porter's a dead man.”

Tom shook his head. He clenched his fingers around the sheathed sword. “There must be another way.”

“Not if you want to see Porter and your friends alive. Trust me, lad. I know a thing or two about dead. That's a ship that only sails in one direction.”

The very words Umbrey had said to him in the bell tower the night they met. They'd come full circle.

From the corner of his eye, Tom caught a flash of black and the glint of a blade. The Watch. Reacting instinctively, he
wheeled around and swung the blade he held—still encased in its animal-skin sheath—to block the man's knife. The guard, caught by surprise, staggered backward. Not missing a beat, Umbrey drove his knee into the man's groin. The guard uttered a low moan, then collapsed to his knees.

Umbrey let out a sigh of satisfaction, then turned and studied Tom appraisingly. “So what do you say, lad? Are we going to use that sword to save your brother's life, or aren't we?”

Tom gave a curt nod. “What do we do?”

Umbrey's lips curved in a small smile. “Follow my lead. It will all work out. You'll see.”

Tom sped after Umbrey as the one-legged man tore through the chaos surrounding them. In the market square, townspeople had taken up arms against Keegan's guard. Battles raged on every corner, panicked livestock raced through the streets, and carts were overturned and set ablaze. It was a scene of utter devastation—until they reached their destination.