Aster Wood and the Lost Maps of Almara (Book 1) (16 page)

“I ain’t tellin’ him squat.”

“Well then
I
ain’t going,” I said.

We stood glaring at each other, but I wasn’t backing down. He was calling all the shots here, and I was starting to think that he was only right part of the time. If I was going to risk being locked up in a dungeon, I at least wanted to have a clear conscience before they threw away the key.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll tell him. But
after
we get the information. You mess this up, boy, and it’ll be years before we find another way down there. You understand me?
Years
.”

“Fine,” I said. “But if you don’t tell him, I will.”

“Hmph.”

It was settled.

As night began to fall, we made our way through the alleyways out to the lane. Kiron turned in the opposite direction of Chapman’s, and together we walked for a time through the waning crowd. Kiron had found some charcoal and rubbed it into my hair, effectively disguising me from The Shield. I looked like a dirty, brown-haired kid, like any of the other kids around. I found great relief and being able to walk with relative freedom through the city. The cold air was refreshing as it bit at my cheeks.
 

After fifteen minutes of walking, we reached a shabby, dimly lit building. Kiron opened the front door to the place and we went inside. A long bar dominated the space, and a few odd tables were scattered about. A large hearth at the far end of the room housed a crackling fire. Kiron nodded brusquely to the barman, who nodded in return, and made his way to the back of the room, where a dirty, thin boy sat huddled next to the fire. We both pulled out chairs and sat at the table across from him. Kiron held up three fingers to the barman, who nodded again, and then turned to the boy.

He looked sick, as if he had been malnourished over a long span of time. He looked up at Kiron with the distrust of one who had long since quit believing in kindness.
 

“Calder,” said Kiron, “this is Aster. Aster, Calder.” We nodded at each other.
 

“Did you bring it?” Calder asked.
 

Kiron produced the small blue stone and placed it on the table. Calder’s eyes widened and his bony fingers shot out to take the stone, but not before Kiron’s hand had grasped it again and pulled it away.

“Not so fast, boy,” he said. “You have something for us as well, I think.”

The barman approached the table, arms loaded with plates, and set our dinner in front of us: stew and a large slab of bread for each. Calder immediately turned his attention to the meal, dropping his attitude entirely at the sight of food, and began to eat as if he were starving. He scooped up the stew with the bread and his dirty hands. His spoon lay on the table, forgotten. I watched him, horrified, thinking of the hunger that must make someone inhale their food like that, as if it would disappear at any moment. I picked up my own spoon and took a tentative bite, but my eyes stayed on the boy, and the viewing made me lose my appetite. Kiron was not so moved as I, and slurped up his stew noisily.

After several minutes, Calder finished his meal, all but licking the bowl clean. As he ran his fingers along the edges of the bowl to get each last drop of stew, he sat back in his chair and looked at me.

“So, what do you want to know?” he asked.
 

I looked at Kiron expectantly, but he was still eating and motioned for me to speak.
 

“Uh, well,” I said, “I need to know how to get into the dungeons.”

“Why?” he asked.
 

“There’s something I need down there.”

His face cracked into a wicked smile, and suddenly I felt less sorry for him.
 

“Like treasure?” he asked.

“Um, of a sort,” I said.
 

“You gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing at my mostly untouched dinner.

“No.”

His hand shot out and gripped the edge of the bowl, sliding it across the table towards him.
 

“Well, getting in is easy enough,” he said through a large mouthful of stew. “It’s getting out that’s the trick.”

“And how do I get in?”

“There’s a house,” he said thickly, “just off the square on the south side. It looks like people live there but nobody does. They keep a single candle burning in the window every night; that’s how you’ll know it. The dungeons begin underneath the building. They keep the door unlocked. Don’t need a lock, since a sentry is posted behind the entrance twenty four hours a day.”
 

I gulped.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled at me as if I were much younger than he was. “Just tell the sentry that you’re taking my place. Then, go to the back of the building and down the spiral staircase. Yell out for the keeper when you get to the bottom. You might have to yell for a while. He’s usually passed out drunk most of the mornings I’ve gone.”

I took a deep breath. “Ok, so then what?”
 

“Then you clean,” Calder said simply, and winked at me. He bit off an enormous chunk of bread. “He’ll show you the mop and pail,” he continued over the mouthful of bread. “The keeper of the dungeons hates me. Tell him…tell him I broke my leg or something like that.” He smirked. “He’ll love to hear about me getting hurt. Explain to him that you’re the new boy sent to clean up the mess that I left before I fell down some stairs or something. Watch out for the keeper. He’s a mean old mule, and he won’t tolerate any lip. None at all. And watch your ears.”

“My ears?” I asked.

“He’s an ear grabber, the keeper. More than one kid has cried like a baby after a run-in with him.”

My hands went up to my ears involuntarily, a gesture of protection from an unknown hurt.
 

“So, how do I get out once I’ve…cleaned?” I asked.

Calder’s smirk turned into a full blown smile. It made me nervous.

“You actually
do
clean,” he said. “Be prepared for a long day, or days, of work before that guy will let you see the sun again. And a word of advice: do it right the first time. Once he kept me down there for four days because he didn’t think the floors were clean enough. I was almost starved by the time he finally let me out, and even then I think he let me go just cause he was sick of looking at me.”

“So, I can’t just leave?” I asked.

Calder looked at me with a mocking smile. “Kid,” he said, “it’s a dungeon. Everything is locked up, and the only one with the keys is the keeper.”

My curiosity got the better of me, and I whispered, “What’s down there?”

He leaned in and murmured conspiratorially. “Ghouls.” His eyebrows danced on his forehead like he was telling a ghost story to a frightened group of campers. “Men so old their souls have long since withered away. Keep back from the bars.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious or just trying to mess with me. He took the last bite of my stew and pushed the bowl away from him, rubbing his full stomach appreciatively.
 

“Now, I believe it’s your turn,” he said to us both, his mocking, mysterious tone fading away.

Kiron placed the blue stone on the table again, and Calder grabbed for it. Kiron’s hand landed on Calder’s before he could snatch the link away.

“This ain’t no cheap trinket, boy,” he growled. “You gotta be careful how you use it.”

“Ok,” he said, taking his hand back. “How does it work?”

“Make sure you and your family, or whoever you’re takin’ along, are gripping each other tight. Then you point the link and give it the command.
Horasha
.”

“And it will take us out of here?”

“Yep.”

“But there’s something you should know,” I said, eyeing Kiron. I didn’t like this kid, but it wasn’t fair not to warn him. “This is a link that was made on Aerit for travel on that planet. We’re not entirely sure it will work the same way here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, there’s a possibility it could take you back to Aerit. Or even somewhere else. Somewhere we can’t predict.”

His demeanor changed, and his eyes, filled with arrogance a moment before, became soft and frightened.
 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, looking down at the stone. “I don’t care where it takes us. As long as it’s as far away from here as possible. As far away from him as we can get is all I want.”
 

“From Cadoc?” I asked.

He looked up and seemed surprised that I had guessed correctly. Then he nodded and lowered his head.
 

“It’s yours, boy,” Kiron said. He stood up from the table, and I did the same. As we turned to leave the tavern, Calder called after us.

“I don’t know what business you have down under the city,” he said, “but if I were you, I’d forget it. You’ve got the power to escape Stonemore.”
 

We stopped and turned back to him.
 

“You should use it while you still can.”

Late that night I lay on my back staring into space, trying to mentally prepare myself for the task that lay ahead. We had determined that I would head down to the dungeons the very next morning; it would look suspicious if nobody at all came to clean, and it seemed clear that Calder would be leaving Stonemore as soon as possible. Maybe he already had.
 

Kiron and I had talked late into the night, going over and over the plan. He had found a set of dirty, worn clothing for me to wear: my uniform. Ratty as the shirt and pants were I was glad to note that they did not smell as bad as they looked. A moth-bitten coat would protect me against the cold down below.

He had taken another link from the chain around his neck and given it to me.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

“In case you can’t get out,” he said. “Only if all hope is lost.”

“What about you? Then we’ll be separated.”

“It doesn’t matter so much what happens to me. What matters is that you get your hands on the next link. Here, take it.” He dropped a thick, gray stone into my hand. “Command is
Forasha
. This is a short distance link. It’ll take you out of the city, but not too far beyond. Then there’ll be a hope of us finding each other.”

I accepted the link, hoping that I wouldn’t need to use it, and concerned about what would happen if I did. Would it send me back to Aerit? What if I ended up floating in empty space?
 

I was to give Kiron my backpack and ax before I set out. The close quarters of the dungeon, and the keeper’s reputation for brawling with the children who worked there, would make carrying anything with me far too dangerous. Kiron would leave my things behind the spot where the soup lady stood in the square, and he would watch the area to make sure they were not discovered before I was able to return. We would meet there after I found a way out of the dungeons and then continue on together.

I dressed in the old clothing and packed my own clothes into the pack. Kiron had taken a file to my boots to make them look less noticeable; they weren’t of the sort that a poor boy would wear in Stonemore, where the kids were lucky if they had shoes at all. I lay on the shabby floor of the forgotten room and stared up at the ceiling. Only a thin sliver of moonlight crept in through a thick crack in the stone wall. My fingers studied the grooves in the stone link in my pocket.

I was buzzing with nerves. The silence that came from Kiron’s side of the room told me he was also awake, but we didn’t speak. I don’t know how many hours we both lay there with our eyes wide, and I’m not sure if I ever slept, but after an eternity of running the plan over and over in my mind, he finally rose. It was time.
 

No light came into the room any longer. The moon had set hours ago and it was too early for the sun to make an appearance. We both put on our boots, and I handed him the backpack before vanishing it. Then we crept through the alleyways into the city beyond. Kiron peered out into the deserted street. Then, satisfied that it was empty, we slipped out into the night of Stonemore.

Nobody was out. I was shaking with nerves, but the cold air was invigorating. I breathed deeply, trying to stay calm, and my hopes rose that what I was about to attempt might be possible.

We silently made our way through the square, sticking to the shadowy edges, to the closest avenue. I looked across the space towards Chapman’s little shop, hoping to see the flickering candle, but the windows were dark. We slinked around the corner, leaving the square, and found with relief that it was also deserted. Kiron walked with me only the distance of a few of the buildings before he stopped and pulled me into the alcove of a butcher shop. Large hides of beef hung looming in the dark window as he turned to me and quietly spoke.

He placed one hand on each of my shoulders and looked me square in the eye. “Be careful. I’ll watch for ya, help ya if I can.”

This was it.

I nodded, breaking the gaze he held with me and looking over towards the door.
 

“I’ll see you when I’m out,” I said, my heart pounding.
 

My eyes met his once more. I nodded again, and then turned. As I stepped out of the cover of the butcher shop, he whispered behind me

“Good luck.”

I dashed across the street to the single door that had light flickering behind it. When I turned back, he had disappeared, hidden well in the shadows. I reached for the handle and, just as expected, it turned easily. The door was easily eight feet high and six inches thick, and would have been impossible to open had the hinges not been so well oiled. Crossing the threshold I carefully closed the enormous door behind me, which thudded shut with an awful sound of finality. Perhaps those breaths I had taken outside just now would be the last fresh air I would taste.

A man sat slumped in a chair, and he jolted awake at the thump of the door. He looked me up and down, grumbling, and then waved his hand toward the back of the room. A torch lit staircase spiraled downward. His eyes were already closed again, so I snuck past, trying not to jostle him. As I approached the staircase I heard a harsh snore come from the man, already back asleep. As I began to descend I steadied myself along the rock walls that twisted their way deeper and deeper into the earth. It seemed to go on for two, maybe three stories, dizzying me as I walked. Finally I reached the bottom, where an iron gate blocked my way into the passage beyond. Here was where I was to announce myself to the keeper, but he was nowhere to be seen. Concerned, I tentatively called out, “Hello?”