The spider key, p.41
The Spider Key, page 41
“Yeah, yeah.”
Ink waited until he closed the bedroom door behind him, then the front door after that. As Evering's shadow passed by the drawn front curtains, he went to the wash stand, moved it to one side, and pried up the loose tile underneath.
The first thing he took from his secret stash was the slip of paper from The Compendium of Missing Persons. Like his roommate, he too liked to be prepared. With the kind of mission they were soon to embark upon, there was probably a decent chance of coming across someone or something to shed a bit more light on the mysterious Mr. Wickwire. At least he hoped so.
He began to reach down towards the hole again but stopped. The watch was missing. Oh. That’s right. He’d taken it out to look at last night. Probably slipped it into one of his coat pockets.
He checked them. Then checked again. He tossed his pillow aside, went through his bed sheets, looked under the bed.
Still no watch.
And then it came to him. With a surge of panic, he rushed to the door, stuck his head out into the hall, and drew a deep breath.
“Oswaaaaald!”
Back at the Pipeworks House, the others were gathering to depart. Though they had no disguises on which to rely, there were still little things they could do to minimize their chances of being recognized. From that morning until their return, none of the men would shave or trim their beards, and they would all bundle up in scarves and wear hats and bonnets to cover their faces.
Riva arrived with Jeremy, who was tucking a small twig from the Memory Tree into his coat pocket.
“Sorry we’re a bit late,” Riva said. “Are we the last ones?”
“Just about,” Caradoc answered. “Anyone seen Ink?”
Evering nodded. “I just left him. He’s still packing.”
“Then that only leaves the Whistlers to come and see us off,” Abner said.
“They are here, Mr. Hart,” Harriet answered from behind him.
He turned around, then gaped in surprise. She carried a carpet bag in one hand and her cane in the other. The others mirrored Abner's reaction. Harriet had not left Riverfall since it had gone airborne six years ago. Incidentally, it was the same amount of time since Martin had last been below. He stood nearby with a sullen expression, clearly displeased with his wife’s decision.
“You’re coming along?” Evering said to her.
“I am indeed.”
“Are you sure?” Riva asked, still stunned.
“Of course,” she answered with a smile. “It might not be the easiest journey to make, nor the safest, but I’d say I’m due for a bit of adventure.”
Delia grinned and moved to embrace her. “Overdue.”
Caradoc was next to get over his shock, stepping forward to take the carpet bag from her, for which she thanked him.
As the others began to say their goodbyes, Delia was proved more right than she knew. Things were indeed different, and the signs were everywhere. Evering nodded a wordless goodbye to Margaret but never once looked at her. Harriet kissed her husband but did not smile. And when Delia went to embrace Caradoc, she held on for much longer than usual.
“You have your reading spectacles? And your sleeping tonic?”
“Yes, I have them,” he replied.
“Keep an ear out for any word about the Plumsleys. Chester as well.”
“We will.”
Farther down the line, Harriet hugged Margaret. “You’ll be fine, I know you will. Hold your ground when it matters. Let go when it doesn’t.”
Margaret managed a small smile. “Is that the trick?”
“That’s the trick.”
As Harriet moved away, Simon took her place with a nod and a nervous smile.
“It’s a shame you’re not coming along this time. I think you're even better than Caradoc in a crisis.”
“You’ll be all right,” Margaret answered, “so long as you let the others do the talking.”
He laughed, then took her hand. “Take care of yourself, Miss Wallis.”
“And you.”
“I—”
“Listen,” she interrupted, drawing her hand away. “Would you do me a favor while you’re down there?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Don’t think of me. Don’t . . . waste any more of your time. It’s not worth it. Trust me.”
She stepped away, unable to bear his look of hurt confusion, and went to embrace Jeremy, who blushed a deep crimson color. The tower clock began to strike ten.
“Where the blazes is Ink?” Abner said, standing impatiently at the door. “Riva, would you mind going to fetch him?”
“Back in a tick,” she said, then hurried off down the path.
The others began filing into the house to make their way down to the pipeworks. Only Jeremy and Caradoc remained behind to finish their goodbyes. Jeremy shook Martin’s hand with a sheepish smile.
“Goodbye, Martin. Only grape juice. I promise.”
Martin smiled for the first time in days. He was still smiling as he shook Caradoc’s hand.
“Sure you won’t come with us?” Caradoc said. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Not this time. Besides, it’ll take all three of us to keep this place running. Especially the pipeworks.” He stepped closer, a touch of strain coloring his voice. “Please . . . take care of her.”
“Of course I will.”
“She thinks very highly of you. And I know you have only her best interests at heart—”
“Martin, don’t worry. We’ll be back before you know it.”
The former banker tried to smile again, but there was something deeply pained behind it.
“Of course. Good luck to you all.”
Riva had almost reached the Hart residence when she heard someone grunting and grumbling at the edge of the garden grove. She stepped towards it, unable to spot the speaker but recognizing the voice.
“Ink?”
He stumbled out of the bushes and looked up. “Oh. Hey. I was just . . .” he brushed a twig from his coat, “looking for Oswald . . . to say goodbye. You seen him anywhere?”
“I'm afraid not. And there's no time to look for him. We’re leaving now.” She smiled. “I didn’t know you were so fond of Oswald.”
“We’ve grown closer the past few days.” Ink shouldered his pack as he followed her down the path. “Couldn’t you do something to find him? Ain’t there an enchantment for finding things?”
“None that I've ever learned,” she said as they arrived. “Now say your goodbyes.”
“Take care of yourself, Ink,” Delia said.
“Yes, goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.” He shook Delia, Margaret, and Martin’s hands in quick succession, then backed away towards the Pipeworks House. “Oh, and if any of you see Oswald, tell him I know!”
“Know what?” Martin asked.
“Ask him!” Ink replied, then slammed the door shut.
Chapter 34
Harroway
The Lockhorns held the distinction of being the longest and most prominent mountain range in Eriaris, as well as the most important, decisively separating Cassrian lands from Entrian territory. The Kurna Mountains, however, were famously the tallest. Old Saul had described the journey to Harroway as nothing more than a “good walk” to the north, but without the aid of their Drifter, the Colonists might well have been forced to journey on foot for many weeks before reaching the town. It was steep, jagged terrain, often plagued by brutal weather and unforgiving winds. The mountains had been named for a daring Entrian explorer who had fallen to his death trying to reach the highest summit. So many lives had been lost in that region, in fact, that the entire area had been altogether avoided for many years. When news came of a town springing to life in that location, it raised more than a few eyebrows. How could anyone possibly live in such a place? Much less sustain a growing population?
They had luck with a mild wind as they descended, and despite the snow they were still able to make out the sole road winding northward, mostly by virtue of half a dozen wagon tracks. Evering was first to spot the town, nestled in a high valley and encompassed by a strong and well-fortified stone wall. The Colonists hid the Drifter behind a snow-covered ridge to the south of it, and from there traveled the last quarter-mile on foot.
Before they had left Riverfall, it had been argued that it might be best for one of the Colonists staying on the village to bring the others down to Harroway. That way if something went wrong, they could simply signal the remaining party for a rescue. But they soon realized it was the least logical choice. Weather in the Kurna Mountains was always unpredictable and might possibly thwart a rescue team on their descent, leading them astray and making the situation far worse. The second deciding factor was past experience. Riva and Caradoc had once almost burned to death waiting for a rescue Drifter to reach them, and they concluded that the quickest path to safety was to have the airship anchored nearby.
They had wrapped themselves in as many layers as possible. Maintaining a brisk pace helped to keep them warm as well, and before long they were in sight of the front gates. They discussed their fears over entering fairly un-disguised but tried to comfort themselves by reasoning that a town so isolated from the rest of the world might not be very quick to discover who they were.
Ink had a bit more self-comforting to do. The last time he’d been down below, he’d met up with Seherene and a whole gang of Colonist-hunters—not to mention a deranged Spektor. He could do with less excitement of that kind. At least he could make it a point to stay close to Caradoc as often as possible. And as for Seherene, she was surely still busy with having the Plumsleys in custody.
“Hey, Simon,” Ink said. “I get a weapon again, right? You know, just in case?”
“We’ll see how it goes,” Simon answered, his tone implying that it wouldn’t go at all.
“Do you really need a weapon, Inkling?” Caradoc said. “Just use that razor-sharp wit.”
“Or this hat.” Ink jumped up and swiped the Keyholder's wide-brimmed hat off his head. “Look at this thing! You could smother a bear with this hat!”
“Why do you think I wear it?” he replied, grabbing it back and promptly knocking Ink’s own hat off his head.
“I’d smother myself if I had to live up here,” Evering grumbled, hugging his arms and sniffling. His ears and nose were bright red. “How can anyone stand being in a place this cold?”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Harriet said, walking arm-in-arm with Riva. “It never snowed like this at home. It makes the air so crisp and clear.”
“And freezing!” Evering answered.
“Keep complaining and we’ll get Riva to set you on fire,” Abner replied.
Evering started to scowl, but then turned and looked back at the Entress. “Could you?”
She laughed. “Never know until I try. Just say the word, Evering.”
Ink slowed his pace to walk beside her. “I've been wondering about something. You told me there ain’t no enchantment for finding things. But you also said Entrians could do almost anything they wanted if they had enough skill. So if the Entrians want to get us so badly, couldn’t they do it? Couldn’t they come up with something to catch us?”
“Enchantments are funny things,” Riva replied. “They’re not always predictable or reliable. As far as anyone knows there aren’t any limitations, but it’s said the original intent of our powers was for stewardship. Taking care of the earth and everything in it. Healing and nurturing. It’s almost as if any other act goes against that intent. So it’s not as simple as it sounds.”
“Well,” Abner said, “let’s hope getting past those gates will be simple enough.”
They glanced at the guard towers in the distance. Shadows moved atop the wall behind the parapets. Jeremy drew his spyglass out from under his coat, lifted his face to the sky, and held the glass piece to his eye.
“Might be difficult getting back to the Drifter if we run into trouble,” he said. “But at least Riverfall isn’t too far away.”
Evering’s brow wrinkled with worry. “So what do we do now? Just go up and knock on the door?”
“We do nothing,” Simon answered. “They’ve been watching us for a while now. We’ll let them take the lead once we get there.”
Caradoc walked at the front of the group but soon slowed his pace and came to a stop. The others halted as well, watching as he removed his hat to shake the snow from it. He turned to them with eyes full of apprehension.
“Are we still determined to do this?” he asked. “No good disguises. No quick route of escape. There could be warrants on every street corner. A smaller group might be better. Or we could wait ‘til we get our hands on some new costumes. It’s not too late to turn back.”
Abner passed a hand over his jaw and stepped forward. “I’d say we’re about nine years too late. It’s high time we started figuring our way out of this mess. Time it came to an end. It’s taken me a while to realize—maybe it has for all of us—but we can’t stay on Riverfall forever, and we mustn’t lose anyone else to drive that point home. So I say we continue on.”
Jeremy nodded. “I agree.”
“We’ll be fine so long as we stick together,” Harriet said.
“And besides, we’ve got Riva!” Evering pointed out.
“We’ve got all of us,” Riva replied.
Caradoc looked at Simon, who wore a more sobered expression than the others but nodded his agreement nonetheless.
“So long as we stick together,” he repeated.
Ink glanced between them, hearing the tension in his voice. Caradoc didn’t answer, but replaced his hat on his head and continued up the snow-covered road.
“I think it’s them, sir,” a guard said, turning from the long brass spyglass to the captain standing next to him. “It must be.”
The captain gazed down at the road with a hawk-like stare. The mountain breeze ruffled his fur-lined coat. “There’s more of them than I’d counted on. Armed, too.”
“What are your orders, sir?” another guard asked.
He sucked in his cheeks for a moment before answering. “Show them to the holding room. No harsh words, no weapons drawn. And get a message to Kingsley. Fast.”
The Colonists again slowed to a stop as a small door opened beside the gate. Two guards emerged, both garbed in thick coats and caps, and with a blade and pistol on each of their belts. Abner, now at the head of the group, raised his hand in a friendly gesture.
“Good day,” he called out.
“Good day, sir,” one of them answered, then stepped aside and gestured towards the door. “This way, if you please.”
“Here we go,” Evering said under his breath.
“Stay calm,” Caradoc replied in a low voice. “Remember we’re scholars. Be inquisitive but not impudent.”
As they neared the door, Ink ran up beside Caradoc. “Hey, what about your face? What are you gonna tell them if they notice your scars?”
“I’ll tell them I used to be a boxer.”
Ink’s worried expression turned skeptical.
“All right, a very bad boxer,” Caradoc corrected.
The first guard they passed appeared relaxed and calm, his hands behind his back rather than on his weapons. The second actually smiled at them. And it wasn’t a snide, knowing smile, but almost one of gladness, even relief. Ink frowned back at him.
“Silver!” Jeremy said in a hushed whisper. “There’s silver in the walls!”
It was true. Ink barely had time to catch sight of it before passing inside, but he could just see the streaks of silver rivulets coursing through the rock. The next moment, he found himself standing in a small room with a low ceiling. A hearth fire burned in the corner, and the walls were lined with wooden benches—along with a dozen armed guards. No one had a hand on their weapons, and even here a few of them were wearing smiles. Ink found himself almost too baffled to be alarmed, even when the outer door was shut behind them.
The captain of the guard strode into the room. He was a hard-looking man with a thin, grizzled face and a sharp gaze. He surveyed the group in a matter of moments, then proffered a small nod. “Welcome to Harroway. I am Captain Jarius. It is my duty to see that your stay here is as peaceful as it is pleasant. It’s not often we have such a large number of visitors all at once. Is it business or pleasure?”
“A bit of both, sir,” Caradoc answered. “We’re from the college in Gallswell, come to explore the myths and legends concerning a place called the Middling House. We were sent this way by Old Saul. He seemed to think we’d have some luck in these parts.”
The captain nodded. “The Middling House is not unknown to us. We may well be able to aid you in your search.”
“It would be much appreciated. But tell me, Captain, is it customary to receive newcomers in a holding room with a band of armed guards?”
The captain rested his forearm on the hilt of his blade. “Well, Harroway is a special town, sir. And its unique situation makes it entitled to its own law and order. Which is why, if you intend on going any further, I must ask you to turn over any and all weapons you now possess.”
Abner frowned. “Our weapons? But . . . may we not carry the means to defend ourselves if necessary?”
“There will be no cause. Rest assured. They will be returned to you upon your departure.” The captain nodded to the guards, who stepped forward.
No one moved at first, unwilling as they were to part with what little means of protection they had left. Caradoc was first to hand over his pair of pistols, and it was only after he’d done so that the others followed suit. Ink watched as the guards went through each of their packs. It was small consolation to know that if he couldn’t carry a weapon, neither could any of the others. The captain thanked them, then nodded at another guard who came forward holding open a bag.
“I must now ask that you turn over any items of strange or aberrant power. Anything that holds a tie to even the slightest purpose of bewitchment, spell casting, or divination.” His gaze fell squarely on Jeremy. “Your pendant, for instance, sir.”
