In his ear, a voice whispered, "Let me go. I can climb."
Astonished, he felt the creature crawl from him, skitter onto the ladder, and scramble up in the dark. Below, Gildas thumped his foot. "Get on! Quickly!"
Dust billowed up the shaft, and the eerie hiss of gas. He hauled himself on, higher and higher until the muscles in his calves and thighs were weak, his shoulders aching with grabbing upward and raising his own weight.
And then without warning he was in wider space, half falling onto the transitway, Keiro yanking him out. They hoisted Gildas up, and speechless, stared down. Stabs of light flickered far below. Red alarms rang; tendrils of gas made Finn cough. Through watering eyes he saw a panel shoot sideways across the shaft, sealing it with a clang. And then, silence.
THEY DIDN'Tspeak. Gildas took the creature's hand and Finn stumbled behind with
Keiro, because now the climb and the fight were taking their toll, and Keiro was suddenly exhausted, his cuts dripping a telltale trail of blood on the metallic walkways. They hurried without stopping through the labyrinth of tunnels, past doorways with Civicry markings, barred entrances, squeezing through a portcullis with vast, useless squares. And always they were listening, because if the Civicry found them, they would stand no chance. Finn found himself sweating at each turn of the passage, at each distant clang or echoing whisper, straining his ears at shadows and a scurrying Beetle, sweeping a small chamber in endless circles.
After an hour, limping with weariness, Gildas led them into a passageway that became a sloping gallery lit by rows of alert Eyes, and at its top, far up in the dark, he stopped and slid down against a tiny locked door.
Finn helped Keiro to sit and collapsed beside him. The dog-creature was a huddle on the floor. For a moment the narrow space was racked with painful breathing. Then Gildas roused himself.
"The Key," he croaked. "Before they find us." Finn took it out. There was a single crack in the door, hexagonal, ringed with speckles of quartz. He put the Key in the lock and turned it.
11
As for poor Caspar, I pity those who have to put up with him. But you are ambitious and we are bound together now. Your daughter will be Queen and my son King. The price is paid. If you fail me, you know what I will do.
"Why here?" Claudia trailed after him, between the hedges. "Obviously," Jared murmured, "because no one else can find the way through."
Nor could she. The yew maze was ancient and complex, the thick hedges impenetrable.
Once when she was small, she had been lost in here for a whole long summers day, wandering and sobbing with anger, and the nurse and Ralph had organized a search and been almost hysterical with panic before she'd been found sleeping under the astrolabe in the central glade. She didn't remember getting there, but sometimes now, at the edge of her dreams, the drowsy heat came back to her, the bees, the brass sphere against the sun.
"Claudia. You've missed the turn."
She backtracked, and found him waiting, patiently. "Sorry. Miles away."
Jared knew the way well. The maze was one of his favorite haunts; he came here to read and study and discreetly test various forbidden devices. Today it was peaceful after the frantic packing and panic in the house. Threading the mown paths after his shadow, Claudia breathed in the rose-scents, fingering the Key in her pocket.
It was a perfect day, not too hot, a few delicate clouds. A shower of rain was scheduled for three fifteen, but they should be finished by then. As she turned a corner and came suddenly to the central glade, she looked around in surprise.
"It's smaller than I remembered."
Jared raised an eyebrow. "Things always are."
The astrolabe was blue-green copper and apparently decorative; beside it a wrought-iron seat sank elegantly into the turf, a bush of bloodred roses rambling over its back. Daisies studded the grass.
Claudia sat, knees up under her silk dress. "Well?"
Jared put his scanner away. "Seems safe." He turned and sat on the bench, leaning forward, his frail hands nervously folding together. "So. Tell me."
She repeated Evian's conversation quickly, and he listened, frowning. When she'd finished she said, "It may be a trap, of course."
"Possible."
She watched him. "What do you know about these Steel
Wolves? Why wasn't I told?"
He didn't look up, and that was a bad sign; she felt a thread of fear unwind down her spine.
Then he said, 'I've heard of them. There have been rumors, but no one's sure who is involved, or how real the conspiracy is. Last year an explosive device was discovered in the Palace, in a room where the Queen was expected. Nothing new there, but a small emblem was found too, hanging from the window catch, a small metal wolf." He watched a ladybug scaling a blade of grass. "What will you do?"
"Nothing. Yet." She took the Key out and held it in both hands, letting the sunlight catch its facets. "I'm not an assassin."
He nodded, but seemed preoccupied, staring hard at the crystal.
"Master?"
"Something's happening." Absorbed, he reached out for the Key and took it from her.
"Look at it, Claudia."
The tiny lights were back, this time moving deep, a rapid, repeated pattern. Jared placed the artifact quickly on the bench. "It's getting warm."
Not only that, but there were sounds coming from it. She brought her face nearer, heard a clatter and a ripple of musical notes.
Then the Key spoke.
"Nothings happening'' it said.
Claudia gasped and jerked away; wide-eyed she stared at Jared. "Did you ...?"
"Quiet. Listen!"
Another voice, older, rasping. "Look closer, fool boy. There are lights inside it."
Claudia knelt, fascinated. Jared's delicate fingers slid silently into his pocket. He took the scanner out and placed it beside the Key, recording.
The Key chimed, a soft sound. The first voice came again, oddly distant and excited. "It's opening. Get back!"
And then a sound came out of the artifact, a heavy clang, ominous and hollow, so that she took a moment to register it, to recognize what it was.
A door. Unlocking.
A heavy, metallic door, perhaps ancient, because it groaned on its hinges, and there was a clatter and smash, as if rust fell, or debris shuddered from its lintel.
Then silence.
The lights in the Key reversed, changed to green, went out. Only the rooks in the elms by the moat karked. A blackbird landed in the rosebush and flicked its tail. "Well," Jared said softly.
He adjusted the scanner and ran it over the Key again. Claudia reached out and touched the crystal. It was cold. "What happened? Who were they?"
Jared turned the scanner to show her. "It was a fragment of conversation. Real-time. A phonic link opened and closed very briefly. Whether you initiated it or they did I'm not sure."
"They didn't know we were listening."
"Apparently not."
"One of them said, 'There are lights inside it.'"
The Sapient's dark eyes met hers. "You're thinking they may have a similar device?"
"Yes!" She scrambled up, too excited to sit, and the blackbird flew off in alarm. "Listen, Master, as you said, this isn't just a key to Incarceron. Maybe it's also a device to communicate!"