The Red Queen (20 page)

‘We must be careful and quiet,’ Miryum warned. I heard her begin to descend steps, found them and flowed after her, making no sound with my velveted paws. At the bottom of the steps was another passage. Miryum suddenly slowed, walking very quietly on her bare feet. I ghosted along in her wake, noticing that there was light ahead. Then I saw that a section of the passage wall on the left was transparent. Beyond the glass was a lighted room full of computermachines and other Beforetime devices. Two metallic guards were talking to one another, but I could hear nothing of their conversation and they showed no awareness of us passing, which made me wonder if they could see the tunnel.

As we passed them, I saw what the two guards were doing, and was sickened.

One was bizarrely feeding a thin cord down the throat of the other. It was so queer and horrible to behold that I knew it could only be dream gibberish. We passed out of sight of the lit room without either of the guards noticing us and came to the end of the passage. Before us lay a vast room full of coffin-like metal cases with rounded ends, each resting atop a low plinth. On closer examination I saw that each case had a metal plate at the top with a keyhole in it.

‘Your beloved is in one of these?’ I asked, wondering if this was the true appearance of the cryopods. My own memories of being inside one would fit into this shape.

Miryum nodded, and again golden tears streaked her face. ‘But I do not know which he is in, and even if I did know, I do not have the key to open it.’

‘Perhaps the sorcerer has the key,’ I said, trying to prompt her imagination.

But she shook her head. ‘The Guanette bird said the key was not where it was supposed to be,’ Miryum said, looking puzzled and uneasy. ‘I do not know what that means.’

‘Did the bird say anything else?’ I asked, certain the key Atthis had referred to was Cassandra’s key, which was not at Obernewtyn where it was meant to be. Miryum might have got it confused, for I could see no sense in locking a cryopod. ‘It said the blind prince will waken the sleeper,’ Miryum said dreamily.

I stared at her. Miky and Angina had once made a story song in which a princess had fallen into an enchanted sleep and would not wake until a blind prince had come to find her. One moon fair the empath musicians had created an illusion to accompany the song and in tribute to their master, they had given the blind prince Dameon’s features. Was it possible that Miryum was drawing on her memory of that occasion? Or was she saying that Dameon would find her, for of course Straaka was not the true sleeper.

‘You are fading,’ Miryum said, despair filling her gold-flecked eyes. ‘You must help me to save him.’

I realised she was right, as I felt the pull of my flesh. Even thinking of the black sword did not arrest my descent.

‘I will return!’ I promised.

Then I was hovering over Miryum’s sleeping form, with its icy glow. I reached out to her but again I felt the distinct pull of flesh and at once my spirit-form began to drop through the floating colour and ethereal music, down and down past the dreamtrails, and into my body.

Then I was dreaming of Maruman stalking along the edge of a deserted Beforetime city, his eyes bright and his movements so light and glidingly graceful that he might have been a mottled shadow ghosting across the white sand drifts that lay across a dark cracked road. I could vividly imagine how he felt moving in that way, the sinuous flow of him that no human form could emulate. He stopped by an opening in the side of one of the buildings where wide flat steps went down into inky blackness, his back arched slightly, the tip of his tail twitching, his ragged ears cocked in a way that told me he was listening intently.

Then he gave a soft, yowling growl that made my hair stand up on end.

I heard a voice calling my name, soft hands shaking me, and woke, blinking in the darkness.

It was dark and I was lying on something very hard, my body cold and stiff, my head aching.

‘Elspeth! Thank God!’ a voice said. It was Tash and she helped me to sit and then stand, urging me to rest on the bed and bringing me water. I felt my forehead gingerly and discovered a sizeable bump where my head had hit the floor.

‘What happened?’ she asked anxiously, pressing a mug into my hands. I drank from it to give myself time to think as she moved about, and then light glowed out from the small lantern. She set it on the table beside me and, bringing one of the stools, sat opposite me. ‘What happened?’ she asked again.

I did not want to say someone had drugged me, knowing the Tumen must be listening. Besides if I told Tash and she reported what I had said, as she might feel compelled to do, it would make the Speci more watchful of me. The last thing I needed was to be the centre of some sort of controversy when I wanted to dig up a grave and plan an escape.

‘I just tripped and hit my head on the floor,’ I said lightly.

‘You must have been here since last night, for you are still dressed! The walk to the Hub was too much,’ Tash said, wringing her hands in distress.

‘It was an accident.’

‘When was this?’ Tash asked.

I drank the rest of the water in the glass and asked for more. I was terribly thirsty but I needed time to think. I had no intention of telling the girl I had been lying on the floor most of the night for she was bound to insist on reporting it.

‘I got dressed and then I fell. I only blacked out for a minute,’ I said.

She looked relieved, though she said, ‘I was worried because it was hard to wake you. You have a terrible bump.’

‘Yes,’ I said ruefully, fingering the lump and wincing. In fact I did not regret what had happened, for while the Hub had proven fruitless, my journey on the dreamtrails had been anything but and it would not have come about if I had not been drugged. In truth, that journey and its revelations were worth every bit of discomfort I now felt, for I had no doubt that I had visited Miryum, sleeping in her cryopod, and that if I could return, I would be able to find some way to wake her. Once woken, she would be able to help us break free of Habitat. Or she would have something to tell me that would enable us to escape from Habitat and the Tumen and rescue
her
. Certainly the overguardian had told Ahmedri I was to wake her, though Atthis had foreseen Dameon finding her.

Tash said, ‘I came to collect you for your first meal in the eating hut. The Committee decided you are to begin eating your meals there today and Balboa put your name down for the second sitting. Do you feel up to it?’

‘Yes! Can I eat with you?’ I asked, affecting childlike eagerness. She shook her head regretfully, saying that she was assigned a different sitting. Before I could ask, she added that none of my friends were assigned to the second sitting either.

‘Balboa did this on purpose,’ I said, with a rush of anger.

Tash looked anxious but there was a warning note in her voice when she said, ‘Hush! Balboa can be difficult, but it is the Committee that decides these things. And there is a reason you are to attend the second sitting. That is when the Committee eats, and directly after, you are to say your pledge to them.’

I was startled but I was careful to retain my naive tone when I said, ‘I thought I would do my pledge at darkmoon.’

‘The Committee has spoken to Balboa and me, and of course some of them spoke directly to you when they were helping you learn the Covenant. They have deemed you ready to take your place as a proper Speci . . . unless . . .’ She glanced at my head.

‘I’m fine,’ I said, fingering the bump. Then I wondered if I had spoken too soon. After all, once I was a full Speci I would have less freedom if I had to work the same long hours the others worked. Then again I was not entirely fit for hard labour and I could make that clear after I had pledged. ‘What work will I do?’ I asked.

‘You will not be expected to work until after darkmoon for you are still too thin and you need to put on muscle, but you will be expected to familiarise yourself a little with all the work done by Speci so as to be ready for whatever task is assigned you. And you must learn to make your way around Habitat alone.’ I saw another flash of sadness in her face and wondered what troubled her so.

The thought of being free to explore alone was enticing, but I said, ‘Can I go and see the burying field today?’

There was a startling flash of anguish in her expression, quickly veiled, then she said, ‘It is not usually the desire of new Speci to see where they will lie at the end of life, but there is no reason you should not go there. However, it is as far as the Hub – maybe a little further – and there is no shade so you will need to cover your head and take water because the way is as dry and stony as the destination. Maybe you had better mention it to the Committee after you have pledged. They may prefer you do not go there, after your fall.’ She gestured to my forehead and I realised there was no disguising the bump from the Committee, who would want some sort of explanation. I would explain it away as I had to Tash, but I had no intention of asking about walking to the burying field since to ask was to risk refusal. Better to be scolded afterwards. But Tash was speaking again, suggesting I take someone with me. No doubt she had empathised my determination. ‘Someone who has their free time, or someone with only a half day of work. Perhaps one of your friends . . .’

‘
You
are my friend,’ I said, for if she accompanied me no one would question the expedition. I knew from the others that the Committee did not like seeing us cleaving to one another so closely; besides, if I could find the exact location of God’s other deaf spot, I would be able to enter her mind to see what ailed her.

To my astonishment, Tash’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked hard, managing not to let them fall. I opened my mouth to ask what was the matter, but she saw or maybe sensed my intent and shook her head urgently. I swallowed the words and reached to take her hand and squeeze it. Her eyes filled again, but she blinked and smiled and said in a bright forced voice that she had work that would not allow a long break, and that we ought to go anyway or I would miss my sitting and my audience.

Utterly puzzled by her distress, I slid my feet into my sandals and followed her out obediently into the predawn. It was cool and my skin immediately went to gooseflesh. The early morning air was very fresh and a pleasant counterpoint to the unchanging hot, dry stillness of days in Habitat. I glanced at Tash and after a moment of thought, asked if Ana and Swallow had received permission to offer blood to God. She cast me a quick, relieved look and said they had been given permission the previous night, before the work assignments for the week had been announced.

‘They will make their offering next week, for they must learn the prayers and fast before.’

I felt a surge of impatience at being unable to go straight to the others and tell them that I thought my quest had brought us all to Habitat, but I stifled it, knowing there was nothing to be gained by fretting at what could not be altered. At least I need only tell one of the others and that one could communicate it to the rest using beast signal speech.

Yet I would have welcomed the chance to discuss my encounter with Miryum and the possibility that I had been guided by Atthis into Habitat because this was where I was to find Cassandra’s key. But that conversation would be better had after I had seen the burying ground. I had no illusion that I would be able to find Jacob’s grave marker in one visit, but still, I could assess the possibility of excavating a grave unseen. And perhaps I would be able to farseek Ahmedri, in which case I might be able to learn more about Habitat and the Tumen from him.

When we reached the common I saw a woman who looked like Balboa, which made me think of how Tash had described the young Speci woman as difficult. This confirmed my feeling that I was not the cause of her aggression. But what was the true cause of her spleen? Was it that she did not like to do certain things, such as minding new Speci? Or was it Habitat life? I could not fault her discontent if it had been roused by a life that seemed nothing but work, and much of it pointless make-work. It was a wonder to me that all of the Speci were not half mad with the tedium of their existence, which was as bland as their food. For all it was safe and comfortable and calm in Habitat, a person needed something more, or maybe something less – less accommodating, less simplified, less bland. It was the same with beasts. Living beings needed something sharper and more beautiful and demanding, in food and in life.

It occurred to me that something as dreadful as a mysterious and violent murder might actually be a welcome diversion from the stagnant placidity of life in Habitat, even if the Speci did not speak of it; perhaps especially when they did not speak of it. I could imagine them turning the knowledge of the murder in their minds like a dark jewel, mysteriously faceted and terrible, and wondered if Dameon had felt that dark secret elation from time to time.

I shivered and found my arms had gone to gooseflesh.

‘Are you well?’ Tash asked, no doubt picking up the morose tenor of my thoughts. For the thousandth time, I wished I had more control over my emotional emanations, and wondered why others who were not empaths seemed better able than I to create a barrier. Seeing her frown, I realised she was still waiting for an answer, and I assured her I was fine.

As we went on, I found myself wondering if life in Habitat was truly as placid as the Speci would have it. After all, someone had deliberately drugged me, and though I had no idea who, or what they had intended to accomplish by having me eat the plums, the plot suggested someone had emotions and intentions that were neither simple nor bland. Yet what had been the purpose of them? I doubted they had been intended to cause permanent harm or death, for I had eaten them, and other than a dryness in the mouth and a slight headache, I felt well. I did not even resent the bump on my head, for the plums had enabled me to dreamtravel and to gain insight enough into Miryum’s journey to help me locate her.

Not that the giver could have known that.