| Part 1, Part 2 |
The back door yielded easily to the Baron's skeleton key. Draco smiled faintly as he pushed it open and stepped inside. Poor deZors. How long would he wait in his fortress before he realized he'd been taken?
To Draco's left rested a pile of empty burlap bags and some crates. He crossed the small space to the next door and laid his ear against it. Silence.
Behind him, he heard the whisper of soft-soled boots on stone. Without turning around, he asked: "Any complications?"
"The Custodian. He came upon us unexpectedly . . ."
"Unexpectedly?" replied the Heretic darkly. "I doubt that very much! Come! We must hurry!"
Mara didn't waste precious time with questions or denials. She nodded grimly and followed him into the corridor. Thanks to Mara's garrulous little novice, Draco knew which hours the priests held their devotions, and where in this maze they gathered. The invaders encountered no one as they made their way through the Abbey toward the door he knew led straight into the Towers.
The entrance to the Towers was tucked behind the Abbott's quarters and guarded by a stout priest. Draco stepped aside and Mara slipped past. The priest, chin on his chest, started awake. He had time only to stare at her, mouth agape, before she blew a cloud of pink powder into his face. The priest blinked, gasped and fell over. Leaving him snoring gently beneath the bench, the two drew back the bolt and entered the Towers.
Inside was another world of vast spaces, of walls unlined by mortar or joint. Dust lay everywhere except along those paths taken by the priests as they made their pilgrimages to and from the Towers' machinery. Draco looked neither right nor left, following the paths as long as they were useful, coming finally to a pair of unadorned, metal doors.
"Help me," he instructed tersely. Together, he and Mara set their shoulders to the panels and hauled them open. A shaft yawned above and below them, rusting cables dangling past. Draco reached over and, grabbing one, began hauling himself up, hand over hand. He saw the ladder finally, built against the shaft wall and looking none too sturdy. Setting his cable to swinging, he caught hold and clambered onto the first rung. It held, as did the next.
"It's safe," he called softly down. Below, Mara's upturned face was a pale oval in the gloom. She nodded and scrambled up the cable after him.
They climbed for a long time. Finally they reached more doors. Draco took out his torch and flashed the light over them. There was a number stenciled on them, so faded as to be barely legible. Floor Ten.
Mara reached him. He motioned toward a pipe opposite and she swung easily over to it. When they were in position, once more, and with considerable difficulty, they forced open these doors, as well. Breathlessly, they fell through onto the floor.
"Couldn't we get the electricity going?" Mara complained, jumping to her feet and brushing herself off. "Just for a little while?"
He shook his head. "Unwise, especially with Todo breathing down our necks. Come. It's this way."
"Who is he? Do you know him personally?"
Draco shrugged. "We were students together, apprenticed to the same Custodian. For a time we were -- friends."
"I see."
Draco heard the gently sardonic note in her voice. "Good friends," he amended neutrally. "There -- let's check this room."
"Success!" she breathed, eyes alight.
"Maybe." Draco was not ready to celebrate. He strode in, each step raising small puffs of dust. Clearly, the priests did not venture up here. Moving through the rows of file cabinets, he paused now and then to wipe clean a label. Mara watched from the door, one eye on the corridor outside.
He found it at last. Pulling open the drawer, he winced at the screech of rusty metal against metal, undisturbed for centuries. Inside, the file folders had long since gone to dust, but the data disks remained, indestructible, in small, disorganized piles on the bottom of the drawer. He gathered up a handful and sifted through them, discarding one after the other until, "Got them!"
His voice shook with triumph. He hadn't really been certain of finding the complete set. Slipping them into his inner pockets, he said: "Let's get out of here."
Todo stood quietly in the center of the ancient lobby, listening. The silence was heavy, almost oppressive. His heart pounded so loudly he thought it might be heard in the Abbey. Carefully, he surveyed the cavernous chamber. There were, of course, no immediate clues. Draco was no fool and unlikely to leave obvious tracks. Quietly, every sense stretched and open, he walked slowly forward, watching for some sign, some hint of why Draco was here, where he might be.
Dropping to a crouch and looking quickly around, Todo removed a tiny torch from his shirt pocket. Under the pencil-thin beam, the path instantly revealed traces of recent perturbation. He smiled grimly. The footprints led not the machine room, but away from it. It would seem the Heretic was after bigger things than the Tower's rusted, barely functional hulks.
Standing, he kept the light on the floor and followed the trail deeper into the room. It ended at the far wall. Four sets of latchless double-doors faced him. One set stood open. He could have sworn it had not before.
Looking at the dangling cables, it was impossible to tell if the invaders had gone up or down. For several minutes he remained, undecided, straining his ears for even the faintest whisper. Nothing.
For one irresponsible moment, the Custodian thought about turning his back on it all, leaving the Towers and returning to his room. Let the Oversight Committee handle Draco. He wasn't one of their damned enforcers!
Yet, he knew they were right. Draco was not merely dangerous, he was walking, breathing Apocalypse -- he and that hill witch who rode with him. The old knowledge must stay buried. As long as there were greedy men like the Baron, the magic of Fiorenza's lost ancestors existed only as a promise of annihilation. Evidence of its terrible power still existed -- he'd seen it himself -- blasted places, great stretches of earth where nothing grew and even birds dare not risk the winds. It was the End of Time, and it must never, ever happen again.
The Custodians alone protected the world against such demons. Of course, they were only human, as capable of foolishness and malice as anyone. It was to guard against these frailties that their laws were so unforgiving. Draco had known this as well as he. What the Heretic brought, he brought upon himself.
"We'll take the stairs," Draco said. "They're easier to defend. If Todo is here, he has almost certainly figured out the elevator shaft."
Mara considered him with narrowed eyes. It was never easy to read her Teacher at the best of times, and at the moment, his features were uncommonly still. Even so, she knew him well enough to sense the tension in him. Falling into step at his heels, she followed him down the stairs, their torches bobbing frantically along the cracked, moisture-stained walls.
"Have I ever met him?" she asked finally.
"Todo? No. He was gone before you came. Even then, they knew he was special. Fiorenza was a plum everyone wanted, but he got it -- a Custodian just out of his apprenticeship. It caused almost as much of an uproar as my little peccadillos."
Mara's lips twitched. Peccadillos, indeed. "If you were once friends, do you really think he would kill you?"
The fine hand tightened briefly on the rail, then fell away. "I think he is a loyal Custodian."
"You choose odd friends, Teacher."
Draco stopped and turned around. Her light flashed over his face, carved deep hollows beneath his cheekbones, reflected, golden, off his eyes. "I chose you," he said lightly. His long mouth curved into one of her favorite smiles, crooked and a little sad. "And if the Custodians are right about any of my crimes, priestess, they are certainly right about you."
"They are not right. They are foolish, dead old men. You saved me, you saved my people. You could treat me like your whore or slave and still I would be in your debt."
"You were a child. . ."
"I was azendalorn! I was never a child."
"You were a little savage," he retorted, continuing down the steps. After a few minutes, they reached the bottom. He set a hand on her arm before she could move past him and into the lobby.
"Wait."
"Draco . . ."
"No, trust me on this. He's out there. And if the worst comes to pass -- well, do what we've always talked about."
"No, I will not. . ."
"Mara!"
She pressed her lips into a thin line.
"Didn't you just finish telling me of your great indebtedness?"
She wanted to hit him, but instead nodded stiffly.
"Then do what you're told."
Fists clenched, she watched him open the door and step out into the dark.
"I was hoping it wasn't you."
Todo rose from his hiding place, stepped into the pale wash of moonlight that poured through the Tower's crystal roof. The tall, familiar figure stopped at the edge of the shadows, just out of reach, wary, expressionless.
"What do want, Draco? The converter schematics? The primary operating system?"
"Maybe neither." The Heretic kept to his line of shadow. "You're looking fit. Manual labor suits you."
"It has the advantage of being honest. I sleep well. Where's Mara?"
"Seducing your gawky young friend? How should I know? I'm not her Teacher anymore. She graduated long ago."
"Ah, yes -- Josaf." Todo turned in a slow circle, searching the gloom. "That was not well done, Draco. The boy's an innocent. He didn't deserve such treatment -- I know you're here, witch!"
His voice came back in echoes. Draco's mocking smile widened. "You know what they say about the company of thieves. She does what she wants. This is between us, Custodian."
Heavy-lidded, those dark eyes gleamed. Draco stepped out into the moonlight. For a moment, Todo remembered how much he had envied that languid grace, the cool poise that came from generations of wealth and power. The Heretic counted his forebears back four hundred years; Todo could not even name his father.
"You're after the mag-shield operating system, aren't you?" Todo asked coldly.
"Maybe." The Heretic turned, began to walk around Todo, never taking his eyes from the Custodian's.
"Give me the disks."
"If you want them, you'll have to take them from me."
Todo shook his head sadly. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small, black box that fit neatly into the palm of his hand. Draco's sudden inhalation told the Custodian the he knew what it was. The bitter smile widened. "So, you don't even have the courage to kill me yourself."
"This is set to stun. I'm not an executioner," replied Todo quietly. "I want the disks, that's all. Give them to me and go in peace. Refuse, and I'll use this, take back the disks and leave you here to face the priests when you wake up."
Shrugging, the Heretic reached into his coat. Todo's fingers tightened on the stunner. Draco's hand emerged and, with a quick flip of his wrist, several disks flew, flashing silver, across the lofty chamber. Todo watched them fall into the dust and lie, gleaming in the moonlight.
"The rest, trickster," Todo said.
"Custodian!"
He spun around at the sound of those high, clear tones. Mara Majorca stepped out of the dark. He swung the stunner around, caught by surprise, but she was faster. She flung something at his feet. Todo heard a sound midway between a curse and laugh from his old friend, then there was a flash. Smoke billowed everywhere.
Todo ran, trying not to breathe, trying to make out their shapes in the haze. Heaviness seized his limbs and, helplessly he dropped the stunner to the floor. Seconds later, he followed it.
"Teacher? Teacher!"
Todo, head pounding, opened his eyes. Through the crystal roof, he saw the sky, opaline and pale. Josaf cradled Todo's head in his lap, his young face anxious.
Mouth dry, tongue several sizes too large for his mouth, the Custodian managed to sit up. At once, his bleary gaze went to the floor. The disks were still there, scattered like discarded coins in the dust. There was no sign of the stunner. Damn.
"What happened, sir?"
Todo drew his knees to his chest, rubbed his aching temples. "I told you to stay put," he croaked. "This doesn't bode well for your apprenticeship."
A stubborn look descended on Josaf's features. "Something was wrong. I knew it and feared for your safety, Teacher."
"Did they hurt you?" The words were out before he could stop them.
"Who, sir?"
Relief made Todo sag. "Bandits," he said in a tone that brooked no questions. It didn't work.
"Was she a bandit?"
He caught his breath and looked into naked misery. Ruthlessly, he replied, "Yes. Her name -- her real name -- is Mara Majorca."
"She used me, didn't she? To get in here."
"Don't feel too badly. She's a beautiful woman and it won't be the first time you fall victim to a pretty face hiding a faithless heart -- more's the pity. Consider it a life lesson. Things are not always what they seem."
The boy nodded, attempting to school his features to indifference, and failed. "I see."
Todo let the youth pull him to his feet. He swayed a moment, but the drug had nearly cleared his system. Seeing the direction of his gaze, Josaf leapt to pick up the disks, handing them over readily. Todo slipped them into his pocket at once.
"Go along," he said gruffly. "You'll be in deep trouble -- if you aren't already."
Josaf grinned. "It's just dawn, sir. I'll scoot in the back and hope nobody notices I haven't washed my face."
It was an effort, but Todo managed not to tousle the boy's unruly hair. He watched Josaf run off. Then, patting the disks that lay, hard and cold against his chest, he started the long climb up to the tenth floor.
It was much cooler, a north wind racing in over the plains, the waist-high grasses bowing before it. The tribes called the wind semblani gorgozo, the Old Woman's Kiss, and knew it for a harbinger of winter. Mara shifted the pack from one shoulder to another and quickened her steps to catch up with Draco. There was a soaking on the way, damn it, and they were miles from shelter.
"Why are you so happy?" she asked grumpily. "The trip was a failure. You didn't get the disks and we still have to spend two wretched days walking."
Draco grinned. "Walking is good for you, my lazy little witch -- increases the circulation, plenty of fresh air."
"What if he comes after us?"
"He won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's the Todo I remember. I hadn't been sure. Fifteen years is a long time."
"You went to a great deal of trouble just to see if you still had a friend."
"Do you think so?" He smiled crookedly. "For me, friends are not so easy to make or keep. And anyway, the trip wasn't entirely unsuccessful."
From the folds of his cloak he produced two disks, fanning them between his fingers, eyes agleam. Her mouth dropped.
"But you gave back ..."
"Accessory files. Not critical. It would have been nice to have them, of course, but I can do without."
Mara's eyes lit up. "Then we're going home?"
"We are, indeed."
She laughed aloud and he joined in, throwing an arm around her shoulders. Together, they walked into the rain.
| Part 1, Part 2 |