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Jon heard Kara’s voice echo down the passageway as dust settled around them.
A rock had fallen and rolled not far from Tam’s feet. Jon shivered and looked
at the others.
“She’s alive.”
Djaren smiled. “That’s good.”
Ellea was still
frowning. The remaining robed men stood around them, looking with dismay at
the fallen rubble, and their comrades under it.
“Who shall I
send after her?” The rotting man grinned at the children. One of his teeth
was coming loose from his jaw, hanging by only a thread of flesh.
“Send me,”
Djaren said. He stood up straight, and faced the rotting monster, looking, to
Jon’s eyes, very brave indeed.
“No, no, young
master Blackfeather.” The surname was pronounced like a curse. “I
have other plans for you.” There was something dreadful in the way the
rotting man said those words. Ellea gasped. She was staring at the rotting
man with huge eyes, and a look of first horror, then hate. She whipped her
head about to stare hard at the two men holding Djaren. First one and then
the other took their hands off him, suddenly screaming. One ran back the way
they had come, wailing, and the other fell to the floor, writhing and
howling. Ellea and Anna’s captors were next to begin acting strangely.

“No!” Djaren yelled,
“Ellea, stop! No!”
Ellea, free
now, glared across at the men holding Jon and Tam. One let go to begin
striking at his own body, wildly. Another fell over in a faint.
“Run!” Tam
yelled, pulling Jon along after him.
Djaren ran over
to his sister and picked her up. “Never!” he told her, wrapping his arms
around her, and running with her after Tam, Anna and Jon down the
rubble-strewn passage into darkness, away from the rotted man, and toward the
pickpocket girl.
“Not for any
reason. You know that,” Jon heard Djaren’s tense, frightened sounding voice
say, just ahead.
“You don’t
know. You don’t know what he was thinking.” Ellea sounded teary, and
very frightened. “He is very bad. He is the worst thing ever. He wants bad
things.”
“We won’t let
him catch us, but you must never do that again. Father and Mother won’t be
happy.”
“Stop!” The
pickpocket’s whisper halted them.
From the
flickering torchlight behind them came the sound of the rotting man’s rasping
shouts.
“What is the
next trap?” the pickpocket demanded.
“The door
didn’t say about any more traps,” Jon said, breathlessly.
“Well don’t
take another step forward. Your door is about to kill you,” the pickpocket
hissed.
Jon squinted in
the dim light. “Step where?”
“We should
light a candle. Does anyone have a candle?” Tam asked.
“I do, and
matches,” Anna said.
“Well leave
them in your skirts then,” the pick pocket hissed. “We don’t want to be a
beacon to follow.”
“But we can’t
see,” Tam said.
“I can.” The
pick pocket sounded self-satisfied.
“And me,”
Djaren said. “We never got your name, miss, er . . .”
“I’m not a
miss. It’s Kara. Now if you can see, four eyes, see that your little friends
don’t get us all killed. Step around that, and hug the wall. Show them, and
follow me.”
“Got it,”
Djaren said. He directed the others carefully about unseen dangers in the
dark, and they pressed on after the girl, Kara.
Ellea and Anna held Djaren’s hands, Tam held Anna’s and Jon held Tam’s as they
traveled. Kara scouted ahead, telling them where to step, and when to duck
low under something, and where the turns were.
“We’ll have to
crawl, here,” she hissed back. “Time to get your trousers dirty, presuming
you haven’t already.”
“Very funny,”
Tam grumbled.
There was a
tense spot a little later, where they each had to step in turn over some wire
only Kara and perhaps Djaren seemed able to see. Ellea did it quickly and
easily. Jon found the process nerve-wracking. Djaren and Kara walked him
through it, then Anna. Tam’s turn was last.
“Keep your head
down, and step up, at the same time,” Djaren said, sounding a little
breathless. “Good. Now move your foot forward, straight, and keep your head
ducked.”
“Watch it!”
Kara’s tense voice ordered.
“I can’t keep
my balance like this,” Tam said.
“I have your
hand,” Djaren said. Jon was disturbed by the note of panic in his voice.
“Careful,” Kara
whispered, also sounding scared.
“Foot forward,”
Djaren directed. “And down, now. Keep low. Second foot up. Keep it high!
Now forward, and when I say, down. Good.”
Kara let out an
exhalation of breath.
“That was
good. Good job.” Djaren’s voice sounded very relieved.
“Let’s hope
that runs the corpse out of minions,” Kara growled. “Come on!”
©2007 Ruth Lampi |