The Thief Queen's Daughter (21 page)

He tossed his rope to several members of his court, who were standing on a platform several levels down from where they had been, and all the way across the central vertical tunnel. He reached out a gnarled hand and held out the Lightstone. He tapped the glowing, starburst-shaped flaw with his long yellow fingernail. “Almost there.”

Ven stared at the Lightstone. The starburst was gleaming brilliantly, brighter than since they had been in the tunnels. He looked down the dark hallway before them, where a slight light of the same golden color could be seen farther in.

“Is this where you reign, Your Majesty? Like a—a castle?”

A round of laughter went up from the Rat King’s court.

The Rat King smiled widely. “No, lad,” he said. “That be the tunnel what leads to the Wonder.”

Ven heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned around to see Ida’s eyes narrow in suspicion. His other friends were looking at each other in confusion. Ven nodded encouragingly to them all, amazed that they didn’t seem to feel the same sense of excitement, of thrill that was coming, that he was feeling.

The Rat King stepped off the platform and started down the tunnel.

“Shield yer eyes,” he said.

The companions followed him down the tunnel until it ended, suddenly and completely. In front of them was a heavy door. The golden light seeped like water under the bottom of the door.

“Make sure yer eyes are covered, now,” cautioned the Rat King again.

Ven squinted as tight as he could, leaving his eyelids open only a crack. Then he put his hand over them, peering out through the space between his fingers. He heard the Rat King opening the door, and braced himself.

Like the steel fires of his father’s factory, a blinding light, burning bright and golden, blasted them. The children shrank away from the radiance and the heat.

The Rat King laughed.

“Hurry in,” he said. “Can’t keep the door open too long.”

Ven stepped into the room, followed immediately by Char. A moment later, the others came in as well. The Rat King shut the door.

They followed him into the endless brightness until they came to what was apparently the center of a relatively small chamber. Once closer in, the light seemed to fade, as if they had stepped beyond it.

In the center of the chamber was what looked like a floating glass globe the size of an apple, hovering without support in the air. Below it in the dirt floor there was a small hole, almost too small to see.

Within the globe was a pinprick of light burning so powerfully that it stung their eyes even to look at it. It leapt and danced, like candle flame, radiating heat and light of almost unbearable intensity. It seemed almost fluid, like brightly burning water.

“What is that?” Ven whispered, awed.

The Rat King smiled his crooked smile.

“Why, lad, yer lookin’ at a piece of the sun.”

N
OW THAT YOU’VE SEEN IT, COME AN’ I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT WE
do with it,” King Macedon said. He hiked up the falling sleeves of his ill-fitting robe, straightened his battered crown, and stepped back into the circle of blinding radiance to the door again, followed quickly by the children.

“Go’n git our young guests somethin’ to eat,” the Rat King ordered one of the thin men who made up his court. The man eyed the children, then turned and disappeared into one of the side tunnels.

“That would be great, thanks, Your Majesty,” Char said as he followed the king. “I’ve been hungry ever since I’ve been in the Market.”

The king stopped in the middle of the dark tunnel.

“That’s prob’ly ’cause yer spoilt,” he said. There was no accusation in his voice. “I bet yer usta three squares a day. This is one of the places in the world that hunger lives, or at least spends a lot of hours. Most of us down here is hungry all the time, lad. In fact, most of the world is hungry all the time. Be grateful that for you it’s only once in a while.”

They returned to the wide central shaft and stepped back onto the swinging platform, which the Rat King skillfully guided down a level directly below them, then stopped.

“Everybody off,” he said.

They followed the ragged man down another tunnel, to a door very much like the one in the room above. Ven noted that he had seen no other doors anywhere in the Downworlders’ realm. It was like being inside a giant nest of ants, or a hive of mud wasps, all these tunnels twisting and turning in the earth under the streets of the Gated City.

The Rat King opened the door.

“You go in first,” he said to Saeli, smiling his black-gapped smile in the glow of the Lightstone. Saeli blinked nervously and looked back at Ven, who nodded. She straightened her back and walked through the door, followed by the rest of them.

Even before he made it over the threshold, Ven knew that whatever the room contained was very different from the rest of the Downworlder’s realm, just by the smell. Out in the dark tunnels there was a constant odor of dampness and dirt, which was not unpleasant to Ven or Saeli, but clearly had taken its toll on the humans with them.

Beyond the door, that odor changed to a fresher scent. It was not clear, like a place that had been swept by the wind, but was strangely rich and green.

When Ven got through the doorway, he saw why.

Inside the room beyond the door, and below the chamber of the Wonder, was a small garden filled with drowsy light. The plants were mostly ferns and lichens, the sorts that grew in shade, with softly colored flowers scattered across the mossy ground, violets and bleeding hearts and night roses. They filled the room with a sweet, dreamy fragrance.

Ven shuddered when he saw a patch of pink-and-white Stuff-of-Dreams.

“What is this place, Your Majesty?” he asked the Rat King.

Macedon inhaled, his bony body taking in the sweet air.

“This be the fruit of the Wonder’s labor, lad. Upworld, where you all live, in the bright world, there are many things the sun makes grow—vege’bles, fruit, grass an’ trees, people—the Wonder’s a magic thing, but it’s not bright enough to replace your sun in our kingdom. But its power is used for nothin’ but good here. There’s just enough light ta have a little garden, a little special place where the darkness of our daily world goes away fer a while. It’s too small a place to actually live, so we jus’ bring folks here on special occasions, like when they’re being born, or dyin’, gettin’ married, and especially when they’re sick. Sometimes this place is all a sick person needs to get better again.”

“I can believe that,” Clemency said, looking around in amazement. “This is a magic place.”

“That it is,” the Rat King agreed. He bent over near a small bush where dark red berries were growing, snapped one off, and handed it to Ven. He held the Lightstone up.

“Ever seen one of them, Nain?”

Ven held his hand under the Lightstone, but he didn’t recognize the fruit. He shook his head.

“That be a kiran berry,” said the Rat King. “Most fruits, most berries especially, needs lots and lots o’ light and water to grow. We don’t have neither of them things here. But the kiran is different. It grows in bad soil, in harsh conditions, in little light and with almost no water—it’s a favorite of the Nain for all those reasons, I’m told. And it makes good medicine, just like all the flowers that grow here as well.”

“Even the Stuff-of-Dreams?” Clemency asked. “Isn’t that poisonous?”

The Rat King chuckled. “Only when misused,” he said. “Almost anything can be used to do good or bad; it all depends on what you want. ’Tis true of anything—and any
one,
no matter what they’re born into.”

Ven looked at Ida. She was staring at the ground.

“This is the place where we remembers that we was once part of the upworld,” Macedon said, looking up at the soft light beaming down from the ceiling. “And the place we remember what is to come, when one day we will be part of the light again.”

A tap came on the door. It opened, and the man whom the Rat King had sent for food appeared, a bag in his hand.

“Look’s like yer supper’s here,” said Macedon. “Come along, young’ns.”

The man handed the Rat King the sack, then turned and went away into the dark.

Macedon rummaged in the sack. “Well, yer in luck,” he said, pulling out a few mushrooms and some little potatoes. “We got a regular feast here, though I’m afeared that we got no meat ta share at this time. The rats are all feastin’ away at the leavings from the Market, and don’ come ’round much in the summer. We mostly get ’em in winter, when they burrow deeper for warmth.”

“We’ll try ta contain our disappointment,” said Char under his breath.

The Rat King handed the mushrooms and raw potatoes to Ida and Clem. “Pass those around.”

“I may regret asking this, Your Majesty,” said Ven as the girls divvied up the meager food, “but what is going to happen to us now?”

“Keep walking. While you eat, I’ll tell ya,” said the Rat King. “Just remember ta be thankful for each bite while yer listenin’. Come this way.”

He held up the Lightstone at the opening of another passageway, one that led off for as far as they could see in the glow. Several dark shadows were there as well. The Rat King’s court had returned.

They followed the shriveled little man and his court until there seemed to be nothing but endless tunnel both ahead of them and behind them. Ven was given one of the mushrooms, which he ate thankfully, while Char struggled to chew on a raw potato.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they came to another branch in the tunnel. The Rat King and his men stopped. Macedon turned around.

“If ye follow this path here, to the right, all the way to the end, it’ll bring ya out at the Great River, a mile or so north of the bridge,” he said. “Mind yer manners there—some friends of ours live around there. They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them. You’ll be out o’ the Market and free ta go on yer way from there.”

Ven’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. He heard his friends behind him perk up in excitement.

“Really?” he exclaimed. “You’re letting us go?”

The Rat King’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why wouldn’t we?” he asked. “Ye came by invitation—and we’s good hosts. Even if you aren’t the king himself. All we ask is that ye keep our secret, an’ not be leadin’ others back here. We like our privacy.”

“You have my word,” said Ven. “The only one I will tell is the king.”

Macedon nodded. “Good.” He pointed to the way out, and the men in the court moved out of the way.

“Get back safe, now,” the Rat King cautioned. His black eyes sparkled in the fading glow of the Lightstone. “And don’ ferget to tell the king this—that what belonged to his father is by right his now.” He handed the stone to Ven.

“Of course!” Ven exclaimed. “The Wonder! That’s what the coded message was talking about: ‘the brightest light in the darkest shadow.’”

In the glow of the stone he could see the white teeth in the Rat King’s smile next to the larger, darker spaces in his mouth. The shriveled man shook his head as if he were amused.

“Alas, lad, I’m afraid you’re like all the ones afore you. You’ve seen the Wonder—but you haven’t seen the light. Ah, well.” He pointed down the tunnel. “Be off, now. If you see anything movin’ in the dark, stand still an’ let it pass, if it’s gonna. It can move a lot faster than you in the tunnels.” He looked back at the glittering eyes of the other children. “Well, faster than
them
. You’re Nain. You might have a shot at outrunnin’ it.”

Ven peered down the dark, dank tunnel. “We’ll stay together, no matter what.” His skin was prickling from the Rat King’s words.
How could I have been wrong about the Wonder?
he thought. Then he remembered he should thank the Downworlders for rescuing them. He turned back.

“Thank you, Your Majes—”

The king and his court were gone. Ven’s words echoed up the tunnel behind him.

“Come on, Polywog, get
moving,
” Ida insisted.

It was strange to hear her voice. They were the first words she had said since entering the well.

“Right,” Clemency agreed. “We don’t want to be here one second more than we have to be.” Saeli nodded behind her.

“I dunno,” said Char. “We might want to take our time, so as not to disturb any dirt, or things that might be hidin’ in that dirt.”

“We’ll be careful,” Ven promised. He held up the Lightstone and started down into the darkness ahead of them.

They walked for so long that it seemed like there would never be an end to their journey. Several times they stopped, needing to sit down and rest, but hurried back to their feet and on their way as soon as they had caught their breath. The tunnel floor was a dark place that skittered with movement, and no one wanted to remain there any longer than necessary.

Finally, from ahead of them they felt a gust of wind. It was cool and heavy with moisture, as if it were about to rain.

“Feel that?” Clemency said excitedly. “We must be near the outside!”

The fresh air gave them hope and new energy. All five started to run, Char in the lead, followed by Ida, Clem, and Saeli, while Ven brought up the rear, still holding out the light.

The glow of a different kind of light was shining at the tunnel’s edge up ahead. They could hear the sound of rushing water in the distance.

“It’s the moon, and the river!” Clemency shouted. “Come on, Ven, we’re almost there!”

“I’m right behind you,” Ven called in return.

At its end, the tunnel shrank down to the size of a large rabbit hole. The children had to crawl out, one by one, even Saeli. As they did, they found themselves in the gravel along the banks of the Great River. Ven waited until everyone else had crawled out, then followed.

When he stood up, free of the tunnel, it was like stepping into a different world. The wind greeted him, rushing through his hair and making his clothes snap like the sails on the sea. The moon overhead was rising into a clear sky, shining silver light across the fields around them, pooling in the river, making it seem alive.

A tall, dark shadow loomed above them, moving like a giant in the dark.

Ven looked up.

They were standing near an enormous mill that spanned the Great River, its huge stone turning night and day, powered by the flow of the river, grinding grain into meal, and meal into flour. Beyond the mill to the north there was a town, where bright lights blazed and music could be heard in the distance over the sound of the water.
I wonder if that’s one of the mill towns the constable said was such fun,
he thought. Then his gaze went higher.

Turning the huge grindstone was a towering machine, with four giant blades on which large sheets of canvas caught the wind.

A windmill.

Ven stared at the giant machine, then felt a chuckle well up inside him, like a bubbling spring. He laughed out loud, causing the others to turn and stare at him as if he were daft. Ven paid them no mind; he laughed and laughed until Char finally came over and shook him by the arm.