Henry slowly straightened, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. He let Polk slip from his grasp and looked owlishly about himself, hoping to escape notice simply by keeping still.
They stood in a limestone cavern. The walls gave off a strange silvery light, making the dead black spaces of the cavern soften at the walls. Henry saw shapes silhouetted down a tunnel far ahead and heard the rhythmic noise of chains as the monks marched away. This particular cave was lined with entrances and tunnel mouths-some high, some low. The magic gate had opened from one amongst a dozen identical holes.
Henry needed a way to mark this escape gate in the darkness. He ran his fingers underneath Cinders to scratch his own skull, then hit on an idea.
"Polk! Pee!"
"What was that, son?"
"We need a way for Cinders to sniff his way back here. Badger pee!" Henry kept his voice in a whisper. "Come on. You always wanted to make your mark."
"Son, toilet humor is beneath you."
Polk wandered off to have some privacy, and Henry kept watch on the distant, swaying shapes of the monks. He grew more nervous as the monsters slowly disappeared into the gloom.
"Polk! Haven't you finished?"
"I got stage fright, son! Now just hold your horses." Polk finally sighed. "All right, there! Are you happy? Now let's get moving!"
They moved. Henry scuttled forward, half bent over as though this might offer some sort of concealment. Polk walked his badger walk, his belly fur brushing at the dirt. They walked along a floor unnaturally clean and cared for, descending slightly downward as they followed the chain monks' trail.
The tunnel opened out into a cavern filled with hideous shapes. Skeletons hung chained to the walls, and an old wooden torture rack lay broken and rotting on the floor. A skeleton shrouded in sackcloth sat in an iron cage. The cage dangled from the ceiling at eye level, its door half-open to let the skeleton's hand trail the floor. Giving the skeletons a careful berth, Henry padded over to check the three exits from the room.
Each one gave off a distant, ringing sound of chains. Each one echoed to faint hoots and giggles. Henry could see no movement, nor find marks on the floor that might have been brand new footprints.
With a polite cough, Benelux shimmered inside her scabbard. I can sense evil up ahead, child. A very great intensity of it. Try the doorway to the right.
"Oh." Henry never quite knew what to say to Benelux. She always made him want to tug his forelock and bow. "Uh, thank you. Thank you, Ma'am."
Over at the left tunnel, Polk suddenly scrambled backward in fright, hissing, "Son! They're coming, son! Thousands of them! I can hear them marching up the tunnel!"
More rattling chains sounded from the way behind. Chain monks had followed down the same route Polk and Henry had just come. Polk dashed beneath the old rotten rack. Henry looked wildly about, then leaped up and caught the iron cage, wrenching open the door and bundling himself inside. He threw the old bones out of the sackcloth and wrapped himself and Cinders inside the reeking shroud. He sat there, the cage swaying and swinging, as the first chain monks marched through the room.
Two columns of the creatures shambled past, giggling and shrieking like maniacs as they walked. The creatures dragged their chains along the floor, making an atrocious din. One line of a dozen monks came from the left. A full score more came from behind. Henry's face was hidden, his body covered, and the monks never gave the terrified boy a glance. They shambled off down the right-hand tunnel, hooting and screaming at each other in the dark.
The instant they were gone, Henry slid out of the cage. His hands shook as he pressed them against his head, trying to reassure himself that he was still alive. He kept an eye on the right-hand tunnel and sidled over to another set of cages. He wrenched the feet from two dangling skeletons and removed the chains that had once bound their legs together.
"Polk, stay there! Open up the hole and check the others. I'm going to follow the monks and steal the crystal ball."
"Right you are, son!" Polk was buried under the old rack and showed no inclination to emerge "I'll just keep an eye on your back. Watch the rear! Guard your blind spot!"
"Right." Henry pulled the sackcloth over Cinders's head, hoping he now looked like a chain monk. "I'll be back."
He walked in a silly stagger, dragging two lengths of chain out of his sleeves and trying to titter like a maniac. Somewhere up ahead, cacophony reigned. Henry tried to stop his knees knocking together as he followed the great shaft downward, finally seeing the backs of chain monks as the creatures shuffled slowly out of a congested tunnel mouth.
The silvery radiance shone brightly ahead. It came from farther on within the broad, vaulted cavern that opened outward from the tunnel. There was a lapping sound, as though a huge, slow lake washed itself against an unseen shore. Henry shuffled behind the monks, his eyes darting as he tried to keep his head down and make sense out of the caves.
Fifty of the mewling, screeching chain monks had entered the cave. At the cavern's heart lay a great pool of silver liquid-like a quicksilver lake that shone and glowed. The lake gave off a more intense version of the radiance that spilled from the walls. Far more disturbing was the way the quicksilver fluid moved and quivered, as though it were a living entity that breathed.
Tielle stood on a rock outcrop beside the eerie pool. Her monsters had gathered in a mob that fell quiet as Tielle scathed them with her glance. Henry attached himself to the back of the mob, now so deep in trouble that he felt light-headed. Tielle glared up the side tunnels, making sure that all her minions had gathered, and then planted her fists on her hips and gazed at them all in disdain.
"You let them get away."
The monks cringed a little, and Henry followed suit. Furious, Tielle flicked open her wings.
"Which of you idiots was holding Escalla and the sphinx in the city? Which one?"
Half a dozen monks shuffled slightly then lifted their chains, hooting like children trying to mollify their nurse. With a snarl, Tielle flung her hand at the nearest one and spat out a magic spell. Ice darts blasted through the monk. It staggered, blood spraying from its skin. Tielle snapped her fingers, and hooting, joyous chain monks pushed their injured comrade straight out into the pool. The bleeding monk screamed and thrashed as its blood was sucked from it. The wizened corpse sank out of view, while the entire lake suddenly took on a sinister red glow.
Watching, laughing, and screeching in glee, chain monks leaned over the pool's edges. Annoyed, Tielle put her hand out and received a drinking horn from one of her minions. The horn sucked up red liquid from the pool, gallon after gallon flowing inside.
"Evil blood to burn the good. Good blood to burn the evil!"
Tielle shook the rod clean. "Right, so now it's evil water. Which out of you idiots is injured? Hurry!"
Some of the monks were damaged-cut by the Justicar or with broken limbs or damaged throats. Tielle used a common kitchen ladle to scoop red water from the pool and pour it over the creatures' wounds. The injuries flashed and disappeared. Knocking out the last drops from the ladle, the faerie rose fluttering into the air, followed by a chain monk bearing her crystal ball. The other monks dispersed, some following after Tielle, and others going off into alcoves at the far side of the cave. The hoots and hollers drifted in the cavern like sounds from a nightmare.
The lakeshore was quiet. Henry blinked and edged closer, trying to pierce the gloom and see whether he truly was alone. The boy licked his lips and fumbled with his helmet buckles. He pulled off his helm and cradled it carefully in his hands, then walked swiftly over to the ladle Tielle had left lying by the shore. He gave a quick look over the caves, then knelt and scooped the heavy, silky liquid from the pool. He filled his helmet with as much as it would take and then carefully set the ladle aside.
A scream came from behind him. Henry left his helmet and hurled himself aside. An instant later, a chain smashed down where he had once knelt, shattering limestone. A chain monk stood screeching and yammering, looming over Henry as it whipped its chains at his head.
Henry dived and rolled, drawing Benelux with the smooth, lightning-fast motion he had learned at the Justicar's side. He hit the monk beneath one arm and felt Benelux's edge shear through three whole thicknesses of chain. Chain links and manacles went flying, and one of the creature's massive arms dealt Henry a blow. He flew backward, falling and skidding on his back. Henry's hair touched the hideous red liquid of the pool. There was a sucking sensation at his neck, and Henry jerked his head up and away in fright.
The chain monk threw itself at him, two manacles streaming as it prepared to crash them down onto Henry's skull. Henry saw his own rusty chains lying an arm's length away. He dropped Benelux and snatched a chain, whipping it at the monk's legs as he rolled wildly aside. Flails crashed into the stone beside him; Henry felt his own chain go tight, and he gave a ferocious tug. With a huge crash, the heavy chain monk tumbled down, its legs entangled and its arms flailing wide. Henry planted his boots against the monster in panic, gave a mighty shove, and the monk spilled so that its arm fell in the pool.
The monk screamed as blood was sucked from its body and into the lake. Lashing its chains, it tried to smash Henry's skull. The boy shoved it with his boots again, and the monk fell into the silver-red fluid, its mouth open in a silent scream. It fought wildly, draining white before Henry's horrified eyes.
Henry panted, numb with shock. An instant later, a chain came flailing from the lake to wrap about his leg. Still alive, the monk dragged Henry to the edge of the pool, dragging the human with an irresistible strength. Clawing at the smooth stone floor, Henry fought to hold on. He saw Benelux lying on the stone. In one lightning move Henry released the floor, snatched Benelux and smashed the magic sword's blade against the chain. Links parted in a flash of molten steel. The monk catapulted back into the lake, jerking madly as it was sucked dry of blood and died. Scrabbling away from the lake, Henry stared at his enemy and felt his whole skin running with a cold sweat of fear.
Benelux caroled happily inside his head. Oh well struck! Your technique is coming on quite well.
"Th-thank you." Henry's voice was ragged with shock. He scuttled over to his helmet, saw it still sitting there, hale, hearty, and full of red liquid. The cavern seemed still and quiet. No monks came to investigate the noise. Shaking, Henry took his helmet and ran quickly into the same tunnel he had first come from. He crushed himself flat against a wall and looked behind with dread.
No one had noticed. No one came. Tielle was off doing whatever it was that maniacs did in their spare time. Carefully cradling his prize, Henry ran up the long tunnel, passing a dozen twists and turns, then came into the old moldering torture chamber once more.
"Polk! Hssst! Polk, quickly!"
The badger emerged from beneath a pile of rusted thumbscrews, holding the folded portable hole in his mouth. He dropped the hole and stared at Henry in concern.
"Son! What's wrong, son? You look pale!" The badger squinted. "Is that a crystal ball?"
"Quick-I think I've got something. Open the hole!"
The badger flipped open the hole like a sheet of canvas and laid it on the ground. Henry slithered over the edge and down into the gloomy space within, smelling sickness and fever in the air. He lit a lantern from the sealed box of supplies, then ran across the grass bedding to kneel between Enid and the Justicar.
Jus was awake, his shaven head sheened with sweat. Henry laid Cinders down beside him and used the hell hound's fur to steady the helmet full of liquid. The Justicar groped a pale hand over to Henry and held the boy by the arm.
"H-Henry? What's… h-happening?"
"All be fixed soon, sir. All soon." Henry had scrounged a bandage, then unsheathed Benelux. "Lie still. I think I can fix it all."
Henry held Benelux, winced, and bared his arm. Alarmed, the magic sword gave a rapid pulse of light. I say! Steady on! No need to suicide!
"It's not suicide!" Henry cut himself on the arm-didn't do it right and swore as he had to cut himself again. This time the cut ran fast with blood. He held his arm over the helmet full of liquid and let his blood drip and mingle, watching anxiously as the liquid swirled.
There was a flash, and the fluid in Henry's helmet turned a faint, pale blue-a healthy color, cool and soothing. Henry stared at it, then took a breath and jammed his little finger into the brew. He kept his eyes shut tight, expecting to have his finger burned to the bone.
The only sensation was a cool tingle, and a sense of peace and calm.
Henry worked fast. He tore away Jus's bandages, oblivious to the pain it caused, then slopped a measure of the blue liquid over the wound. Blood hissed, and the big man spasmed. The wound closed right before Henry's eyes, the skin looking healthier by the second. Henry struggled to his feet and ran over to Escalla. He poured blue fluid over her injured leg and side, then over her poor burned wings. The last of the liquid went over Enid's back, covering her burns and regenerating them. Henry tossed his helmet away and wrapped a bandage about his injured arm.
None of his patients were awake. They slept, but at least they were sleeping in peace. Wounds knitted with magical speed-infected flesh turning peaceful and healthy once again. Henry leaned against the wall of the portable hole and closed his eyes as relief flooded through his soul.
"Polk, I think I did it! We can go!"
The entrance to the hole suddenly closed, sealing out the faint light from above. Henry blinked, then sat down and held on tight as he felt Polk grab the hole and begin to move.
In the torture chamber above, Polk dived into his hiding place and stared. Emerging slowly and relentlessly from the gateway tunnel, there came a savage figure. A tarnished golden eagle helm over a cadaverous skull emerged first, and it was soon followed by the rest of the armored body, lurching on the stump of one foot. The monster paused as it looked carefully over the room. Polk froze, not daring even to breathe as the undead creature sniffed for a scent.
Distant echoes of laughter came from the caverns, and Recca turned. His blood-red sword glowed in the gloom, and the apparition was gone. Polk unfolded the hole and let Henry emerge. The two of them crept to the tunnel mouth and stared after the undead monster.
Polk and Henry fled back through the magic gate. Their last strand of gold hair flashed, and an instant later they were running out among the trees. A cold dawn was creeping over the Flanaess, bringing with it the distant smells of blazing homes.