The Shadowlands (11 page)

L
ike lightning, Lief, Barda and Jasmine leaped for the cage roof, swinging Emlis up behind them. They burrowed under the layers of cloth and lay still, peering out cautiously, their hearts pounding.

‘Time to go, scum!’ jeered one of the Guards. He approached the cage and jabbed a heavy stick through the bars. There was a shower of sparks, and the companions heard Pi-Ban groan and fall heavily. The Guards bellowed with laughter.

Two white-clad figures strode through the doors—Tira and the Ol called 3-19. The Guards fell abruptly silent.

‘You are to go with the cage, 3-19,’ Tira said crisply. ‘I will follow with the Project.’

‘There is only one prisoner,’ 3-19 objected. ‘He can walk in chains. The cage is not necessary.’

Tira’s eyes narrowed. ‘It is not for you to say what is necessary,’ she said in a low, dangerous voice. ‘This
prisoner has been kept especially for this moment. We cannot risk escape. He is not to be harmed, so watch the Guards carefully.’

3-19 nodded, his thin face sour.

‘We Baks do not need an Ol to tell us what to do,’ mumbled one of the Guards.

‘Silence!’ Tira shouted. She spun around and returned to the red-lit room where another pod of Guards stood, five on each side of the metal box.

3-19 cleared his throat. ‘You heard!’ he said to the Baks. ‘Take your positions!’

As the Baks sulkily spaced themselves around the cage, he strode past them and threw open the second set of doors. Faint light flooded into the room, bringing with it the foul smell of the mounds.

Lief lay rigid, fearing that at any moment they would be seen, but there was no cry of alert. The Guards were staring resentfully at 3-19, whose eyes were fixed on the way ahead

‘Forward!’ shouted Tira from the other room.

‘Move!’ 3-19 muttered to the Baks.

‘We must pull down the covers first,’ one growled.

With a sickening thud, Lief realised that the pieces of cloth beneath which he and his companions were hiding were flaps designed to be pulled down over the sides of the cage.

‘There is no need for the covers, you fool!’ snapped 3-19. ‘It is night! The prisoners will see nothing.’

‘A travelling cage must be covered,’ the Guard said
stubbornly. ‘Those are the orders. We Baks always…’

‘You Baks are overdue for the scrap heap, and the sooner you are there the better!’ spat 3-19 in fury. ‘Move!’

Muttering darkly, the six Baks put their shoulders to the cage and heaved it into the foul-smelling night. Behind them rumbled the great metal box.

Pi-Ban lay dazed and mumbling. Lief, Barda, Jasmine and Emlis were clinging desperately to the lurching cage roof. Each of the Shadow Lord servants was occupied with his or her own thoughts of resentment or triumph.

And so it was that no-one saw three shadows creep from the shelter of the mounds and follow.

At first, all Lief could hear was the rattling of the cage, but after a while he began to pick up voices from below.

‘We deserve more respect,’ a Guard was grumbling. ‘We gave the alert!
We
were the ones outside, fighting the vraal.
We
were the ones who heard those wrecks on the scrap heap calling.’

Lief felt his scalp prickle. He listened intently.

‘The Ol said we should be on the scrap heap ourselves, Bak 3,’ another Guard said.

‘The Ol is a fool!’ snarled Bak 3. ‘You
know
we don’t have a fail date like other pods, Bak 9. We were told that from the first, and warned not to boast of it to the others. Have you forgotten?’

‘No,’ Bak 9 mumbled. ‘But the Ol said—’

‘Forget what it said!’ Bak 3 snapped. ‘The master
would never dispose of us! Why,
we
gave him the news he was waiting for—the news of the girl and the black bird. Why else are we going to the Arena now?’

Lief’s heart thudded violently. The Shadow Lord had been waiting for Jasmine. He had been expecting her. It was news of
her
that had caused this haste.

The suspicion Lief had been fighting ever since they arrived in the Shadowlands reared its head once more, and this time he faced it squarely. Jasmine had a secret—a dangerous secret. She had led them to the Factory. She had refused to escape, when escape was still possible.

He burned to turn his head, to whisper to Jasmine, ask her to explain. But he did not dare. The slightest sound or movement might betray them.

Through a gap in the cloth he could see that the cage was rounding the hill he had seen from the Factory. The Guards panted as they hauled the grating wheels into the curve.

Then, all at once, the road had straightened again. Now it was running right beside the mountains. Ahead was a vast, lighted Arena. There was the sound of a great, murmuring crowd.

‘Faster!’ shouted Tira from behind, her voice sharp with excitement. ‘Stop in the tunnel, 3-19! The Project is to go into the Arena first. Do you hear me?’

‘I am not deaf!’ barked 3-19. ‘Guards! More speed!’

‘We are not deaf either, Ol,’ growled Bak 9.

The cage began to move faster. The noise of the crowd grew louder. Then suddenly the light dimmed,
and the cage creaked to a halt. Lief saw dark stone and guessed that they were in the entrance tunnel that led through the walls of the Arena.

He felt a wave of sickness, heard the sound of heavy wheels, and realised that the metal box was being moved past the cage so that it could enter the Arena first.

‘Wait here until you are summoned, 3-19!’ Tira’s voice echoed from somewhere ahead.

‘Is the woman in red the slave Faith?’ 3-19 asked curiously.

Lief felt Jasmine tense.

‘Of course not!’ Tira snapped. ‘She is the way of the future, as I am. The slave is chained below the platform. Perns! Forward!’

A drum began to beat—a deep, throbbing sound like a great heartbeat. The crowd fell silent.

Lief had to see what was happening. Cautiously he tweaked a little more of the cover aside.

The metal box, with Tira walking before it, was being pushed through a vast archway not far ahead. It was moving from darkness into blazing light. The light of the Arena.

Lief knew that there must be tiers of seats circling the Arena, but he could not see them from where he was lying. Neither could he see the vraals, whose growls were mingling with the beating of the great drum. But he could see the ground clearly. Everything within the frame of the arch was as clear as day. It was like looking at a vast, moving picture.

Grey Guards holding sparking rods lined the path along which the metal box was passing. The path led to a huge platform ringed with white columns. Someone wearing a long red robe was standing there, too far back for Lief to see clearly.

Behind the Guards were ragged people, pressed closely together. The peoples’ shoulders were bowed, their eyes haunted and despairing. Most bore the Shadow Lord’s brand on brow or cheek. They stood dully watching as Tira and the metal box passed them by.

Lief’s eyes burned as he saw among them the black-clad people of Noradz, the hulking figures of hundreds of Jalis, some palace guards. Others he did not recognise. But he knew who they were. Farmers from the northeast, the west and the Plains, gladiators from Rithmere, fishing folk from the coast, Resistance fighters, citizens of Del…

Deltorans, all of them. Beaten, worked and swept by the wind of despair until they had no heart or hope left. They believed they had been brought here to die. For many, perhaps, death might seem a relief from the misery of their slavery.

But they will not die, Lief thought grimly. And they will be slaves no longer. They will not!

But there were so many. Uneasily Lief fingered the Pirran Pipe beneath his shirt. The Pipe’s moment of testing was near. Would its magic give them time to rally the people? To get so many thousands out of the Arena? Would it break the shutting spell blocking the mountains?

The box had nearly reached the platform. And the light in the Arena was changing to a dull, angry red.

Dawn.

A movement caught Lief’s eye. The Baks were stealing closer to the archway. 3-19 was looking resentfully after Tira. No-one was watching the cage.

‘This is our chance to get down!’ Barda muttered.

‘No!’ Jasmine whispered urgently. ‘We must stay here. How else are we to reach the platform safely?’

‘The platform?’ exclaimed Barda, aghast. ‘Why—?’

Lief was sure that Jasmine had her own reasons for wanting to get to the platform. But he, too, believed that the centre of the Arena was where they should be.

‘The Pipe must be played where the Shadow Lord can hear it clearly,’ he whispered. ‘And the people must see us. Emlis, as soon as we reach the platform, I will pass the Pipe to you. Be ready!’

Emlis squeaked frightened agreement.

‘This is a reckless plan, Lief,’ Barda growled. ‘The people have had no warning. They will not know—’

‘Shsh!’ breathed Jasmine.

Lief froze. Then he heard what Jasmine had heard before him. At the back of the cage there were tiny noises. Whispering voices. A clink as someone lifted the cage lock. A grunt of effort and a muttered curse.

Then something tapped Lief’s foot.

‘Get down, you fools!’ rasped a harsh voice. ‘We cannot release Pi-Ban, but you at least we can save.’

Claw!

‘No. We are staying with the cage,’ Lief whispered. ‘Are you mad, boy?’ Claw hissed. ‘There is no time to explain,’ said Barda rapidly. ‘If you wish to help us, get into the Arena. Tell the people—as many as you can—to be ready to fight their way out. When it is time, they will know it.’

‘If we try to save them all, they will be slaughtered,’ rasped Claw. ‘And we with them. A few we might—’

‘Tell them to make for the pass behind the Arena!’ Barda broke in. ‘Now move away, Claw, for pity’s sake. The Guards will turn and see you!’

‘The pass is sealed by the shutting spell,’ Claw said. ‘Leave that to us,’ said Barda. ‘Just tell them!’ ‘You are mad!’ muttered Claw. The talon resting on Lief’s foot tightened briefly, then slipped away.

They heard more whispering. Then silence. Claw, Brianne and Gers had vanished into the shadows. ‘Will he do it?’ Jasmine murmured. ‘Who can say?’ said Barda grimly. ‘And I fear we are as mad as he claims! For all we know the Pirran Pipe will trouble the Shadow Lord no more than a buzzing fly.’

‘Look!’ Jasmine whispered.

A red-clad woman was walking forward on the platform, her strong face and smooth silver hair now clearly visible. ‘Hellena!’

The despairing, unbelieving cry had come from below them. From Pi-Ban.

3-19 swung around. ‘Return to your posts!’ he spat at the Guards furiously, then turned back to the Arena.

The red-robed woman had also heard Pi-Ban’s cry. Her lips curved in a cool smile.

Lief stared, horrified. Hellena had been a member of Pi-Ban’s group. She was the friend for whom Brianne had mourned so bitterly. Yet now her eyes gleamed in triumph as the Perns slid the metal box up a ramp and onto the platform. She was revelling in evil. Like Tira.

The Conversion Project… the way of the future…

‘There will be no vraals released today,’ Hellena cried in ringing tones.

Howls of disappointment rose from the audience—howls that changed abruptly to wails as thunder cracked and a ghastly chill swept through the Arena.

The Baks cringed beside the cage. ‘The master is present,’ Bak 3 whimpered.

‘Today a new era begins!’ Hellena cried. ‘After today, nothing will stand in the master’s way. Wherever he lays his hand, all will bow down before him, and do his will. As you will see.’

She raised her hand. ‘Bring Faith!’

Two Guards came up to the platform dragging between them a small, struggling, black-haired girl whose green eyes flashed fury.

Jasmine caught her breath.

Lief’s heart seemed to stop. Barda cursed softly.

The child on the platform, her small face so like Jasmine’s that the two could only be sisters, was scanning
the crowd, her eyes filled with fearful hope.

‘This is the sister of one of the master’s most vicious enemies!’ shouted Hellena. ‘But, like the gnome who will be joining her—a gnome I know to be the worst of traitors—she will soon bow willingly before the master.’

The audience roared.

‘We are about to be summoned,’ gabbled Bak 9 fearfully. ‘The master will think we have disobeyed our orders. Dawn has broken, and the cage is uncovered.’

Lief tensed, the child Faith suddenly the last thing on his mind. Surely disaster would not strike now, when they were so close!

The other Baks shuffled their feet nervously. ‘The Ol said—’ one began.

‘Curse the Ol!’ snarled Bak 9. And without further warning the six sprang up onto the sides of the cage and ripped the covers aside.

Emlis, suddenly exposed, rolled in an agony of terror and fell. He hit the ground and lay still. Lief, Barda and Jasmine struggled to rise, to draw their weapons, but they had no chance. The Guards recovered from their shock in an instant. The sparking rods thrashed down, down…

Lief saw Jasmine crumple and fall back, Kree with her. He saw Barda hit once, twice. Then he himself felt a fiery jolt on the back of his neck. Agony shot through him. Then all was darkness.