Aaron got up and went toward him.
"Don't. Don't look out there."
"I was going to bar the door." He took hold of the boy's arm and urged him toward the hearth, sat him down. Laella and Mish were wide awake, watching. Aaron nodded to Mish. "Make some tea." He went back and barred the door.
Mish settled onto her knees before the hearth, fed in a few precious pieces of fuel. She did not look at the boy directly when she asked, "What's wrong, Yoseh? Did they scare you that bad? Did they hurt you?"
"No. Yes. They scared me. But it's not that. It's what's going to happen now.
Fa'tad is going to kill them." Faintly, through the heavy door, Aaron heard cries. From her position against the back wall Laella said, "Aaron, this wall is damp again. You've really got to do something."
Each time there was a heavy rain the wall passed water. He thought it came down from a bad spot in the roof. But nothing he tried did any good. He took a look mainly to keep peace in the household.
This time there were beads of water on the bottom foot of the wall, forming and dribbling down like drops of sweat. The ferrenghi witch glanced up when Fa'tad made his entrance. She did not seemsurprised. "So. Fortune did wear a false mask." Maybe nothing could surprise asorceress.
"What?"
"I cautioned him that his luck might not be as good as it appeared."
"He was a small man, fat with greed, easily led."
"Yes. Was? You killed him?"
Fa'tad smiled, a little sadly, a little wearily. He was an old man and age had taken its toll of everything but will. "No. He's underground but he isn't yetdead."
"I see. And you come to me because you want into the citadel."
"Yes." No point hiding it.
"There was no hidden way in then, through the maze?"
"No."
"What will you do about Nakar? Are you one of those who want to restore him?"
Suddenly, she seemed intense. . Fa'tad chuckled. "I'd be the first devoured if Nakar were resurrected. I value these old bones too much to permit that."
She studied him briefly, assessing his honesty. "I'll help you, then. Theancient doom must be discharged. Nakar must be destroyed, whoever helpscomplete the task."
Al-Akla frowned, surprised and puzzled. "I expected to work for that." He didnot question his good fortune. "How close are you to finding the path?" Hewould not argue with fortune but he would keep a sharp eye on it.
"An hour or an eternity. This is sorcery. No gate pattern can be definedcompletely from outside. Each is unique. Each must be opened by steps. I havebeen eliminating those possibilities made impossible by this pattern's needsand what we know of its specifics. I have reached my limit from this vantage, though. Now I have to have someone actually walk the pattern. Colonel Brudaoffered me prisoners to use. His promise is no longer of value."
Fa'tad responded to the hint by grunting. "I'll find you someone." He told hismen to take care of her wants and to guard her well. They understood. He movedto another part of the Residence. He meant to adopt it as his headquarters.
Reports from his captains looked promising. The ferrenghi, taken from theirblind side, had collapsed everywhere but at the Gate of Autumn and atGovernment House. About the Gate of Autumn he was indifferent. Time would take care there. But who would have thought those soft Government Housefunctionaries would turn stubborn and defy his worst?
He inquired about the progress of the masonry work and learned that theremaining entrances to the labryrinth had been sealed. Excellent.
Four thousand ferrenghi veterans out of the way with hardly a blow struck.
He remained unsettled, though. The Living had manifested their interest andexistence in no tangible way. Yet they were out there watching, waiting, invisible and unpredictable. The longer they did nothing the more dangerousthey would become.
Azel was not an introspective man, not one to look inward for the meaning ofwhat moved him. But time weighed heavily. His thoughts kept turning to themeaning of his own behavior.
And shied away. It almost seemed there were a few soft spots in there. Hebacked away lest he get so close he'd have to face them.
He wanted to admit no weaknesses. He was like a natural force. He acted ...
A clash of arms rose outside. He looked, could tell little in the darkness andrain. No evidence to show who was doing what to whom. But something strangewas afoot in Qushmarrah. None of those soldiers who had charged into the Shuhad shown again.
When there was light enough to make out details he discovered that thesoldiers besieging the citadel had been replaced by Dartars. A few corpses inHerodian white lay on the pavement like bundles of clothing cast off byrefugees too hurried to be burdened by possessions. Though the image thatcrept into his mind was dead kittens.
Dartars? What the hell?
The world had gone crazy.
One by one the lanterns consumed the last of their fuel. As each died theworld underground became a little darker, a little smaller, tighter, and alittle more fearful. The clash of metals and cries of wounded echoed up fromdeeper in the maze. Some of the soldiers were having trouble with those whohaunted the labyrinth. Those ghouls seemed desperate to reach the surface.
What drove them so?
Governor Sullo was incapacitated by terror, one fright short of voiding hisbowels. His Moretians kept him moving as they sought a way out. They also kepthim quiet, knowing the soldiers he had gotten into this fix would need littleprovocation to turn on their self-appointed commander.
Going downhill within the maze-toward the harbor, not toward the heart of thelabyrinth-proved a bad idea. In places water stood waist-deep. In others itwas as deep but not standing, it was running toward the heart of the maze.
No wonder the vermin were trying for the light. The deep places were filling.
They were being forced out of their fastnesses. People were not the only thingbeing trapped by al-Akla's masonry.
Sullo grew more terrified. He was going to drown ...
The Moretians reversed course and sought salvation upward, growing ever moreimpatient with their employer's wheezing, whining efforts to keep up.
The last lantern gave up.
Raw panic filled Sullo's throat with a shriek that could not tear its wayfree. He managed only a soft, "Don't leave me! Please?"
Soon afterward a big outcry ran through the maze. It took a while to sort outinto any sense because of the legions of echoes.
General Cado had been found and liberated.
That small part of Sullo's brain still capable of reason recognized theexclamation point marking the end of his brief and disastrous reign as masterof Qushmarrah.
Aaron peered through the peephole into a Char Street empty of life. It wasSaabat, the holy day, the day of rest, and it continued to rain, but neitheraccounted for the absence of traffic. No matter what, Char Street bustled withpeople who had places to go and things to do. Except today.
Aaron did not like it. He had a feeling it was, somehow, a little bit hisfault.