Mercedes Lackey - Elvenblood

They threw together what supplies and weapons they could as Myre led them to rummage through the storerooms; their short time before the household woke stretched considerably by Lorryn, and a magic he used to keep the inhabitants of the house sleeping soundly and a lot longer than they normally did. They didn't dare go out of the house itself, for there was no way of extending the magic to the stables and slave pens and beyond, so all of the useful weapons and gear (not to mention horses) that lay outside the house walls might just as well have been on the moon for all that they could reach it

They fled into the cellars carrying crude packs made up of bedding, with straps improvised from belts. Rena carried the food they filched from the kitchen, knives, a firestriker, and a single metal water bottle she'd found in the cellars. Lorryn carried his bow and his arrows, knives and sword, his own clothing and bedding, and things Myre had found for them: rope, a small axe, a huge square of waterproofed silk, and their heavy cloaks, which were too bulky for Rena to take.

There were exits to the outside from the cellars, doors through which barrels and boxes were delivered without having to take them through the kitchen or any other door. Myre tried all of them until she found one that was unlocked. They scrambled up over a pile of roots tumbled down through a hatchway from above, when she tried that and found it open.

The roots were filthy and hard as rocks, and Rena could hardly imagine how they could be made edible.

They popped out of the hatchway into the dim gray of false dawn, scuttled across the yard into the relative shelter of the kitchen gardens, and from there followed Myre across the paddocks and fenced-in home-fields toward the edge of the estate. Each field was bounded by hedges and ditches bringing irrigation water, ideal cover for someone who was escaping.

Except that they were going in the opposite direction from the gate and the road. Rena hadn't seen the point of that; the estate was completely walled in, and the only entrance was at the front of the manor. But she was afraid to say anything; Myre could decide to leave her behind "accidentally," and in this half-light, it wouldn't be difficult to do so. Then what would she do? It would be rather difficult to explain what she was doing, dressed in the clothing of a male slave, carrying a pack, with her hair hacked off at chin length. Even if she made her way back to her own quarters undetected, the hair would still be difficult to explain, and taken with Lorryn's absence, would be bound to get her into immediate trouble.

Finally they came to the wall; made of smooth stone, it was many feet thick at the bottom to prevent anyone digging under it. It towered above them, and as Rena already knew, the top was well protected by shards of glass set into mortar. There was no way to climb it, and no way around it.

But Myre didn't seem dismayed; instead, she led the way along the fence as the false dawn gave way to the true blue-gray light of early morning. Rena was getting more and more nervous; in a little while the supervisors would be bringing the slaves out here to work the fields, and they would be seen. What was Myre up to?

But Myre clearly knew exactly what she was doing; she led them to something Rena hadn't even dreamed existed, a place where a small, deep ditch or aqueduct led under the wall. The tunnel itself was as black as a starless night, and seemed to be very long. It probably led underground as well as under the wall—a clever deterrent to escape attempts. Water came up to within a half a foot or so of the ceiling.

"I see now why you asked if we could swim," Rena said, staring at it. The water looked very cold. "Won't there be bars or something across the mouth of this, though? I can't imagine Father not barring this somehow."

"Leave that to me," the slave replied, then looked over her shoulder at Rena with a sardonic expression on her face. "Last chance to go back."

Rena shook her head, wordlessly. Now that she was in this, she was hardly going to turn back, no matter how difficult it got.

Myre snorted. "Don't say I never gave you a chance." And with that, lithe as an otter, she dove into the water and disappeared.

A moment later her whisper echoed through the half-flooded tunnel under the wall. "Are you coming, or not?"

Lorryn took off his pack and lowered himself into the water, letting the pack float behind him as he towed it by one of the straps. It occurred to Rena that his bow was going to be useless for a while after this, at least until the bow itself and the bowstring dried out.

Oh well. What use would a bow be against Father's magic, anyway?

The water came up to Lorryn's chin, which meant it would be over Rena's head. Not a good sign. He let the current carry him into the runnel, and was quickly lost in the shadows.

Rena hesitated only a moment longer; it was growing light, and it wouldn't be long before someone came along here. She followed Lorryn "s example and took off her pack, tying one strap to her own belt. Then, clutching the side of the aqueduct, she lowered herself into the water.

It was colder than it looked, and quickly soaked through her clothing. She couldn't feel the bottom at all, and suppressed the urge to panic. But she could not make herself let go of the side of the aqueduct. Her teeth chattered as she clung to the brickwork of the side, and worked her way hand over hand into the darkness of the tunnel.

That was where she discovered that the ceiling quickly dropped much closer to the water than it appeared from outside, and she found it was impossible to hold on to the side and still have room to breathe. With a shudder, she let go of her last handhold and let the sluggish current take her, hoping she'd be able to stay afloat.

She looked back over her shoulder. The light at the end of the tunnel receded slowly, though when she looked ahead, no new light showed where the other end might be. She was so cold now that her feet and hands were numb, and behind her, the pack was soaking up water and acting like an anchor, slowing her down. She tried to paddle forward without churning up the water too much—thinking that too much splashing might echo out of the tunnel and alert a supervisor to something irregular. With the pack dragging at her, it was hard work to keep her head above water; she paddled more vigorously, gasping for breath as the cold water lapped around her chin and lips.

Finally a hand came out of the darkness and seized her shoulder; she stifled a yelp, knowing it had to be either Lorryn or Myre.

It was the former, clinging to a metal grate that blocked the tunnel. "There's a door in the grate," Lorryn said, spitting water, his own teeth chattering. "It's just under the surface. It's usually locked, but Myre opened it. Follow me."

By now there was enough light coming from the end of the tunnel for Rena to see, dimly. Lorryn patted her shoulder encouragingly, then ducked under the water. She felt his legs thrashing past her, then his head reappeared on the other side of the metal grate.

She hung on to the grate and felt cautiously under the water with her free hand and the toe of her boot, until she encountered the open space down there where the door must be. By then Lorryn was gone, floating away out of sight. She took several deep breaths, and told herself that if Lorryn—who was a worse swimmer than she—could manage this, it should be easy for her. Then she ducked her head under, eyes tightly closed, grabbed for the edge of the opening, and hauled herself through, head-first.

She had a moment of panic when her pack caught; it pulled her back under before she managed to get a good breath. Fear chilled her more than the water; she fought the pack strap mindlessly, thrashing and getting pulled under again and again, breathing in more water than air each time she reached the surface for a breath.