An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (51 page)

“We’re going to kill ourselves trying to find this locked room in the dark. Why can’t we go look during the day?”

In the shaft of dove-colored light, Yosef scowled. “You bozon. The maid called that room the Councilman’s private ‘Chamber of Horrors.’”

“I’m not stupid,” Ari defended. “I know if Ornias finds us prying our way inside, we’re dead ducks.”

Yosef blinked, taken aback. “Wait a minute. I didn’t say we were going to pry our way inside!”

“So?”

“So?
What do you mean
so?
I thought we’d just go down and see if we could hear anything.”

“Don’t be an idiot. If we’re going to risk our necks going down there, we may as well find out for sure what’s inside.”

“But if we try to open it, somebody’s sure to hear us and catch us.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Ari heaved a gruff breath and limped down the hall like a great awkward stork, arms outstretched for balance. Yosef followed grudgingly. Ebony statues loomed out of the darkness as they passed, their disapproving faces gleaming like ghostly sentries in the moonlight. “If that ugly councilman keeps the chamber locked all the time and forbids anyone to go near it, he’s hiding something important inside.”

“I’m well aware of that, you old fool. Why do you think I suggested going?”

“I thought you suggested it because you suspected
somebody
was in there? You didn’t?”

Yosef stopped beside Ari at the top of a descending staircase. They both looked apprehensively down the spiraling black maw. “Sure, I did. But I figured we’d try and find out by listening and asking around before we started hunting for a crowbar.”

“There’s a prisoner in that room. You know it. Would you lock it if it was filled with beets?’”

“Around you, yes.”

Ari’s eyes narrowed. “Too bad we ate the last can. I could use a few more just now.” He patted his abdomen and shook his head bleakly.

“I thought you were regular?”

“Regular what?”

“Regular stupid!”

Ari ignored him. “So, we’re going to go break the prisoner out, right?”

“Okay!” Yosef threw up his hands. “They’ll kill us either way if they find us, so we may as well have something to show for our idiocy.”

A broad smile split Ari’s face, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Sure.”

They carefully descended the staircase to the second floor and stood at the apex of the triangular structure with dark corridors branching in every direction. “Which way now?”

“The next staircase that leads down is straight ahead as I remember. On the left.”

“You’ve been this way before?”

“Of course. You and me together! We came this way three days ago. Don’t you remember? Going to the Mashiah’s room?”

Ari squinted, peering down the marble hall. “Are you sure? I don’t remember that big painting up there. Or that funny horse tapestry.”

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Yosef smacked him hard on the shoulder as he passed, disappearing into the moonlit darkness. Suddenly, he heard Ari’s steps quicken and his friend gripped him by the arm, jerking him back.

“Shhh!”

“What? What are you …”

Ari brutally shoved Yosef back against the wall, pushing him around a tall statue and into the dark wall niche behind. Ari crowded in beside him, trying to stuff his tall body into the cramped hollow.

“Have you lost your senses?”

“Shut up! Are you deaf?
Can’t you hear them?”

Yosef trained his ears on the darkness. The thudding of booted feet came up a staircase no more than thirty feet away, punctuated by harsh commanding whispers. Panic flooded his veins. He twisted Ari’s arm. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“There’s no time. Be still!”

They struggled against each other, Yosef trying to push past his friend, Ari forcibly pressing him to the wall. But they stopped, falling deathly quiet, when lamplight flickered over the marble walls, glowing from the white and red swirls in the rugs and throwing huge shadows across the arching coral ceiling.

A middle-aged redheaded captain appeared on the second floor landing and held his lamp higher, calling, “Come on!” to people still climbing the stairs. “I’ve got to get back outside and alert our forces to watch for the Beliels.”

The erratic pounding of tired footfalls, grunts and gasps, echoed from below, as though the guards carried a heavy load. Yosef exchanged a curious look with Ari, hoping the tiger shadows would cloak them from view if the men passed their way, praying they’d choose to go the other direction down the dark hall.

Yosef stiffened as the guards half-dragged their burden to the top of the stairs and roughly threw him onto the plush carpet, then staggered backward to lean panting against a pillar. Sweat chilled Yosef s throat and went clammy against his bald head.
What was Baruch doing here!

“God damn,” the young blond guard gasped. “He must weigh two hundred and twenty pounds. Carrying him up three flights is sheer agony.”

“Shut up. We’ve got to get him to the guest room. He must be a dangerous character if the councilman wants him shackled,” a dark-haired sergeant panted.

“He’s not dangerous,” the captain defended. “Just confused. He’s been tormented for days by demons. What do you expect?”

“Well, he’s sure as hell valuable. I’ve never heard Ornias order us to ‘take good care’ of anybody before. Usually he wants us to rough ‘em up the best we can.”

The blond shook the sweaty ends of his hair out of his eyes and puffed a breath. “Maybe he’s from that battle cruiser that’s been orbiting for a month.”

Yosef tried to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. Captured by the Mashiah, a cruiser within shouting distance, Jeremiel was in terrible danger.

“A Magisterial spy? He’s got a hell of a talent for subtlety. Throwing himself on the portcullis and screaming his head off.”

“He wanted in bad.”

“Yeah. Wonder why?”

“Because the Beliels have been after him!” the captain insisted, fists clenched.

“Yeah, sure, El.”

“Maybe he’s suicidal, huh?” the blond laughed and kicked his prisoner in the side. A soft groan sounded and Yosef saw Jeremiel’s eyes flutter open, but he quickly shut them again. “I wouldn’t offer myself up on a silver platter to the Councilman. He’s got a mean streak as wide as the Shamba Desert.”

The captain pursed his lips tightly. “He’s waking up. Less we want to fight him again, we’d better get him to the guest room so we can get him shackled.”

As the captain knelt on one side and the private on the other, Jeremiel whirled, lashing out with his powerful arm, knocking the private down the stairs. The captain lunged for him, wrestling frantically.

“Hit him, Tony!
Hit him!”

Jeremiel brought up a knee and slammed it into the captain’s back. The man folded in agony as Jeremiel shoved out from beneath him and scrambled feebly away on his stomach. As he neared Ari and Yosef, he saw them, jerking up his head and squinting, as though he didn’t believe they were real. Yosef touched a finger to his lips. Frightened, Jeremiel glanced back over his shoulder and struggled to get on his feet to run in the opposite direction, but he fell to his knees, holding his head and gasping in agony.

The captain staggered to his feet, yelling, “Tony! For God’s sake! Get up! We’ve got to get him!” He slapped the sergeant, who seemed to wake from a daze. They both pulled their saps from their belts and fell on Jeremiel, bashing him first in the spine and then repeatedly in the head. The terrible cracks made Yosefs stomach heave. Blood soaked Jeremiel’s blond hair where he lay limply against the thick rug, arms and legs sprawled.

“That’s enough. He’s out again.” The captain wiped his mouth and straightened up. “Loma?” he called toward the stairs just as the blond private came sprinting up. “You all right?”

“Just got the wind knocked out of me,” the blond answered, trudging up the stairs. “He’s sure as hell a stubborn bastard, isn’t he?” He glared at Jeremiel, then drew back his foot and booted him hard in the head.

“Don’t hurt him anymore!” the captain shouted, shoving the blond away. “He’ll be no trouble now.”

Yosef flinched and felt Ari’s hand close on his wrist, urging stillness and quiet. If Jeremiel survived the vicious blows undamaged, it would be a miracle.

“Come on, El, help me get him up.” The sergeant knelt and lifted one of Jeremiel’s shoulders, while the captain took the other.

“Loma, you take the lamp.”

“I’ve got it,” the private said, leading the way down the hall.

Hefting their prisoner to his feet, they dragged him the opposite direction from the niche behind the statue. Yosef heaved a sigh of relief, watching the men disappear around a corner. Jeremiel’s black boots made a hideous sound against the rugs, a scraping like an executioner’s knife being sharpened against a strap.

Yosef waited a while longer, then he shoved Ari hard, pushing him out of the niche and into the middle of the corridor.

“Come on,” Ari whispered, “we have to find out where they’ll be holding him.”

He started down the hall at a run, but Yosef caught his collar, halting him. “What do you think you’re—”

“Quit that! We don’t want to get too far behind!”

“You want them to see us?” Yosef asked. “Give them another minute. Their lamp will be like a beacon. We’ll be able to follow in the darkness and they’ll never know.”

Ari relented, wetting his lips nervously. “Okay.”

They stood in the shadows, breathing hard, listening intently for several seconds before Yosef whispered, “The guards don’t know who he is, but do you think—”

“Yes, Ornias must.” A tremor shook Ari’s voice and Yosef looked up to see wide gray eyes staring back, pained. “He ordered Baruch shackled, didn’t he? He knows.”

“Looks that way.”

“I guess we’ll have to break Jeremiel out first. Then we’ll get to whoever’s in the basement.”

Yosef didn’t answer, knowing in his heart that Ornias would undoubtedly order Jeremiel held in the most secure, impenetrable place he could find. And if he did realize that he could obtain the billion offered by the Magistrates for Jeremiel’s capture, armed guards would be posted and perhaps this entire wing of the palace shut off with a battalion moved into the corridors.

Yosef s heart sank. He took a deep breath and murmured shakily, “Come on, let’s follow them.”

CHAPTER 31

A furious gust of wind whistled shrilly through the palace’s marble halls as Adom walked. Tugging up the collar of his lavender robe, he clasped the small gift tightly in his hand, pressing it safely to his chest. He barely saw the ornate statues or beautiful rugs he passed on his way to Rachel’s chamber. He’d told her he wanted to discuss Milcom, but religion was just his excuse. His mind whirled with thoughts of her, as it had for a week, not sparing even his dreams from her sweet image. The knowledge filled his stomach with butterflies, making his heart pound. What he really wanted was to be near her.

She feared him. He knew it, felt it every time they sat across from each other over dinner, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that. In his entire life, he’d never known anyone to fear him. Many had disdained him when he’d roamed the streets preaching a few years ago. Many adored him now. But fear? It made his heart ache. He sensed that her face was turned as stonily against him as granite and he wanted anything but that. He wanted to comfort her, to pet her, to soothe all the pains she’d suffered as a result of his administration’s cruelties.

Anger rose to sizzle in his chest.
Ornias!
When he’d again demanded to see the Councilman several days ago, Ornias had sent a messenger back saying he was simply too busy to be disturbed. However, if Adom thought it necessary, he’d squeeze in a few moments after dinner on Saturday.

“Crumbs from your table, Councilman?”

He tried to pretend supreme indifference to the treatment, but found it lurking sourly beneath the surface of his growing affection for Rachel.
Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.
She’d told him in detail about the terrifying death of her husband and, try as he might, he couldn’t suppress the welling of hope that engendered. Milcom would chastise him for such insensitivity to her pain, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never felt this way about another human being. It seemed to him that every moment away from her was wasted time, even when the moments dealt with critical problems of Horeb or Gamant civilization. He’d have abandoned everything for a single moment of the inner glow he experienced from her smile.

“Not everything,” he hastened to correct himself. “Not Milcom or His path of goodness and righteousness.” But almost anything else.

He rounded a corner and headed down the long pillared hall leading to her chamber. Sunlight filtered through the high windows overhead to land in patches of luminous gold across the pink marble arches. He could see her door at the end and felt his stomach muscles tense, lungs involuntarily sucking in a deep breath of the palace’s sandalwood scented air.

He gently knocked. “Rachel? It’s Adom.”