The Elves of Cintra (34 page)

He tightened his grip on his staff and summoned the magic.

The runes began to glow a deep blue in response.

“I thought so,” the girl said suddenly, looking over at him.

Her words startled him. “What?”

“I thought that your staff was special. What makes it do that?”

“A kind of power.” He shrugged dismissively.

“Like a fire?”

“Sort of.”

“You can summon it when you want?”

“Yes. Did you see something move a minute ago?”

She grinned through the darkness. “Sure. So did you. That’s why you did whatever you did to your staff. I wanted to see or I would have said something. Those are Lizards watching us.”

He felt a flush of irritation heat his face. “I don’t like games. Why didn’t you just say something?”

“These Lizards know me. They guard this place. We’re in the Senator’s territory now. He’s the one who’s going to help us.”

Logan let the magic settle back into the staff, the blue glow diminishing to darkness, the heat of its power cooling. “I thought you knew where we were going.”

She nodded. “I do. But this is in the Senator’s territory, so we need to visit him first. He expects it.”

“Who is this
Senator
?” he asked.

“You’ll see.”

She clapped her hands sharply, and a clutch of Lizards slid from the shadows, their big, cumbersome forms materializing as if by magic. Logan did not panic. There was no effort made to seize or restrain him, and the girl began speaking to them almost immediately. She did not use any language with which he was familiar, but a kind of guttural speech that relied heavily on grunts and slurs. The Lizards seemed to understand, answering her back, one or two nodding and gesturing, as well. Cat glanced at him briefly and smiled her reassurance, pointing ahead.

“Our destination,” she said.

It was a majestic old stone building with a long rise of broad steps leading to a veranda lined with pillars that supported a massive overhang, the face of which was carved with strange symbols and figures. From within the building, through windows scarred by time and weather and between cracks in fifteen-foot-high doors closed tightly against the night, light glimmered in a soft, pulsating rhythm. A steady murmur emanated from within, rising and falling like an ocean’s tide. Atop the steps stood a dozen more of the Lizards bearing an odd assortment of weapons—prods, flechettes, and antique single-shots—a ragtag arsenal for a ragtag band.

Cat headed directly for the stairs and the Lizards.

“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked, catching up and falling into step beside her.

She gave him a sideways glance. “Like I said, we are in the Senator’s territory. We are here at his sufferance. He considers it rude not to pay a courtesy visit. He says it is all part of the political process.”

Political process?
Logan looked closely at the building ahead. “Was this a church once? A temple of some kind?”

She shrugged. “It belongs to the Senator now. He uses it to conduct debates and pass laws. He uses it as a forum to speak to his constituents.”

He gave a mental shake of his head and let the matter drop as they began to climb the steps toward the huge doors. When they got to within a dozen feet, one of the Lizards came forward to speak with Cat. She answered briefly and turned to him.

“You aren’t carrying any weapons, are you? The staff is all you have?”

He nodded.

“Because if you are and they find out, they will kill you on the spot. There have been several assassination attempts on the Senator already this year.”

“Nothing but the staff,” he reaffirmed.

She said something more to the Lizard, and it nodded and stepped back. A second pair of Lizards, stationed to either side of the entrance, pulled down on the door handles to open them.

Logan and the girl stepped inside.

And into another world.

Rows of benches faced a dais filled with a strange collection of statues and hangings and artifacts. There were cases stocked with ancient, leather-bound books, their spines an identical mix of red and gold, lined up in symmetrical rows. There were pictures and paintings of people who were dressed in clothes from an earlier time. A huge wooden cross hung from the wall at the back of the room, its arms draped with silk streamers. The statues were of iron and marble, some of men and women posing, some of strange creatures with bodies half human and half animal. One statue was of a woman blindfolded and holding forth a set of scales. One wall was covered with old clocks that no longer worked, but all of their hands pointed straight up.

There were stuffed animals of all sorts. There were flags that Logan didn’t recognize, streamers and banners and pieces of old cloth, all nailed to the walls or hung from the ceiling. A huge old desk and chair sat to one side and forward of the motley collection, its scarred surface covered with papers and more books. Lizards with weapons warded the stairs that led onto the dais from either side, and these carried stun guns and dart launchers. The benches were crowded with people—humans and Freaks alike—their faces uplifted and their eyes directed toward the dais and the speaker who addressed them, his voice rolling out over the assemblage, deep and powerful.

“We are the future, and we must embrace our destiny. We are the promise of our forefathers, the bearers of their laws and their vision, come together in this darkest of times, in this deepest of glooms, to bring light to a troubled world. We must never forget our mission. We must stay the course.”

The speaker was short and squat, and from the sound of his voice, male, but his species was virtually unidentifiable. He stood upright, but just barely. He had arms and legs, but the arms were truncated and the legs misshapen. His reptilian hide suggested that he was a Lizard, but there were patches of dark skin, as well, and clumps of hair sprouted from his torso and head like saw grass from a barren field. His face was so scrunched up and twisted that it was difficult to identify individual features. He stood center stage, his short arms gesturing dramatically as he spoke, his head tilting and nodding for emphasis. It was the voice alone that seemed most normal to Logan, the voice of a practiced speaker, of an orator of great skill and confidence.

Of a leader, Logan thought suddenly.

He leaned over. “The Senator?” he asked the girl.

She nodded. “Once an elected lawmaker, back when there were such things. He was one of many, but the rest are all gone. He is the last, and he carries on in the tradition, making and passing laws for the benefit of his constituents.” She looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t pretend to understand. But it seems to work. People come from all over to listen to him.”

The truncated arms waved in sharp motions. “We must never despair, my friends. We must never give in to our uncertainties and our fears. We must move forward, following the road that was laid before us by those who have gone ahead. We must act in a decent and reasonable way, and we must keep our goals before us, ever present, ever conscious of their importance to a civilized world. Because we
are
civilized and we
are
a world, though some would have it otherwise. Laws bind and define us. Order gives us purpose. This house of government provides the physical evidence of our societal resurgence, risen from the chaos and the murk.

“Look about you! Look upon the faces of your friends and neighbors and fellow believers. Look upon their faces and see the hope radiated there. We give one another that hope. We give one another the reassurance that our way of life, while changed, is not gone. There may be dark things seeking to pull us down, to drag us away to places where there is only pain and suffering. But that will not happen here. We are too strong for them! We are too powerful! Recite the words! Recite the Pledge!”

As one, the assemblage began to speak:

I pledge allegiance to the flag

And to the man we call the Senator

And to the Republic for which he stands

One people, under his law

With a brighter day promised for all.

The words rolled out across the chamber floor, strong and certain. Logan had no idea what they were supposed to accomplish or even what they meant. There was no Republic, no one rule or people, and probably no brighter day anytime soon, either. But the people gathered here obviously believed otherwise. There was no pause in the recitation of the words, no hint of doubt or confusion.

“My friends,” the Senator intoned, his squat, ugly form shambling back and forth across the dais now, his head bowed. “I will be offering new laws on the morrow and would ask all and sundry gathered here to come witness and participate in the political process. A public hearing will begin at noon. All speakers will be heard and their words honored. Our attention will be directed primarily to the equitable distribution of foodstuffs and water. Our stores are plentiful, but not inexhaustible.”

He wheeled about and spread his arms wide. “Hear ye, hear ye, this august body is dismissed and this legislative session terminated. Thanks and praise to all for the work done here; may it be forever recognized. You are dismissed. Go forth and be well.”

There was a long, sustained clapping from the audience, and then they began to rise and move toward the doors at the back of the room. Logan and Cat stepped aside to let them pass. Logan was struck by the fervor he saw in their faces. Even though to him it all seemed another variation on smoke and mirrors, they had obviously found something here to believe in.

The Senator had moved to his desk and taken a seat. A scattering of people had crowded forward and taken places on the closest benches, obviously waiting to be summoned to speak privately with him. But it was to Cat and Logan that he gestured, beckoning them forward from the back of the room.

“Come here, little kitten!” he boomed out. “Don’t hide in the shadows! And bring your big friend with you!”

They walked down the closest aisle to the dais and climbed the stairs to where the Senator sat behind his desk. He rose to embrace Cat, a sort of quick half hug that was over almost before it began. A perfunctory act, Logan decided. A tradition that was not necessarily indicative of any true feelings.

Nevertheless, Cat was smiling. “Your words give hope, as always,” she said.

“A poor effort from a poor public servant. But what else do I have to offer?” The mouth was shoved to one side in his lumpy face, twisted and scarred like the rest of his features. But his voice was strong and compelling. His one good eye shifted to Logan. “You’ve made a new friend?”

“This is Logan,” she said. “I found him on his way into the city. He was heading for the compound.”

“No, no, no, Logan,” the Senator declared grimly. His ruined face twisted into something new. “You don’t want to go there. You don’t want to have anything to do with those people. They are selfish and greedy. They are evil.”

“They are probably scared,” Logan said.

The Senator smiled crookedly. “Why are you here?”

“He needs plague medicine for sick children,” Cat answered quickly. “I told him I would share what we have.”

“Sick children? Where are you taking them?”

Logan hesitated. “That’s a difficult question to answer. I’m still not sure. I’m searching for their home.”

The Senator’s gnarled features tightened. “Why not here? We have space for new arrivals. We have homes that can be opened to those seeking shelter.” He paused. “Or are we not a suitable choice?”

“He already has a destination,” Cat interjected, giving a dismissive shrug to the suggestion. “Besides, he is not a constituent. He is a traveler passing through.”

The Senator stared at her. “You seem to have taken an unusual degree of interest in our friend, little kitten. Is there something you are not telling me?”

She gave him an exasperated-little-girl look. “Please don’t treat me like a child. I am doing for Logan what I would do for any visitor requiring help. You have said over and over again that medical care for children is central to your political platform. Why is this suddenly a problem?”

The Senator seemed to consider this, his good eye fixed on her, unmoving and unblinking. Then he nodded. “It isn’t a problem, little kitten. As you say, we are here to help all who ask for it. We are not like those in the compound.” He pointed at her. “See that he finds what he needs. But remember our bargain.”

The girl nodded and said quietly, “You don’t need to remind me.”

The Senator eyed her sharply, and Logan wondered what they were talking about. He said, “I appreciate your help.”

The Senator’s gaze fixed on him. “I think you’ll need more help than I can give you.”

Logan stared at him uncertainly.

“Even here, even though we are Freaks, we have heard of those who carry the black staffs with the strange carvings. We have heard of the power you possess and the fear you inspire in your enemies. We could use a man of your talents should you change your mind and choose to stay.”

Logan shook his head. “I am not my own master in this business. I go where I am sent.”

Cat was looking at him in surprise, but she kept silent. The Senator’s mouth shaped itself into a crooked smile. “Maybe you were sent to
us.
”

“It would shorten my journey considerably,” Logan answered him, smiling back. “But I’m afraid I have to go on.”

“Then you had better get started,” the Senator declared, and waved him away dismissively.