Jon Sprunk: Shadows son

Caim leaned over an embrasure between two stone merlons. The soldiers below marched in the same pattern as before. No one had seen him. Satisfied, he jogged over to where Kit hovered above a massive chimney stack. He jumped to catch the top and pulled himself up. Balanced over the black abyss of the flue, he unlimbered the bundles from his back and tied them to his belt.

"I hate this part."

Kit twirled a piece of her hair. "I'm sure it won't be so bad. Just think happy thoughts."

With a sigh he lowered himself into the chimney. The space was not as tight as he'd feared. With his back braced against one side, he could use his knees and hands to control his descent. Fifteen feet down he came to the first branch shaft. The top floor. He levered himself inside the chute and crawled down its dark, narrow passage, dragging the bundles behind him. He encountered a low-hanging projection with his head and, after rubbing his bruised brow with a sooty hand, he dropped to his belly to wriggle underneath. A wave of claustrophobia hit him midway through the process. The walls suddenly seemed to press in on him, crushing him from all directions. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. Then, he pulled himself through the aperture.

As Caim continued down the chute, he came to a junction of four shafts. He hesitated a moment, comparing his position to his mental layout of the palace. Straight ahead should take him to the central hall. So decided, he continued. A current of warm air buffeted him as he crawled around a slight bend. He stopped at the edge of a pit.

Specks of burning cinders floated up from the opening, which glowed with the light of a roaring fire below. He peered over the edge and had to squint against the scorching heat. The crackle of blazing pinewood logs echoed off the chimney walls a dozen paces below. The shaft continued on the other side. Five paces. On his feet, he could have made the jump without a second thought, but it was a long way to leap on his hands and knees.

Kit chose that moment to appear from the ceiling. "You're almost there. Just a few more paces and a short dip."

"Dip?"

"Just hurry, will you?"

Caim fought the urge to say something she would make him regret later. Instead, he gathered his legs under him as best he could and braced his hands against the walls. He took a deep breath of the heated air, let it fill his lungs, and he leapt. The fire's heat bathed his torso as he sailed across the distance. Caim stretched his body to its fullest extension. For one long instant, time slowed to a trickle. Then, his fingertips caught the ledge. Muscles rigid, he held himself aloft. The two bundles dangled beneath him. Smoke stung his eyes. For several seconds he dangled over the chasm like a hog on a spit. When his heart stilled its maddening pace, Caim kicked with both legs. His hands grasped at the smooth stone of the shaft, and he pulled himself the rest of the way up in scrambling wriggles. Once he was across, he flipped onto his back and took several long breaths.

Kit poked her head through the ceiling. "You all right?"

"You might have mentioned the fireplace."

"And deprive you of a little fun? You know, you're getting boring in your old age. I might have to go looking for a younger guy, someone with a sense of adventure."

"I could be so lucky." Caim rolled over onto his stomach and resumed his crawl.

"What?"

"Nothing, dear."

The shaft extended a dozen paces farther before it sloped downward at a sharp angle. Faint light filtered through a gap at the bottom of the drop-off. Caim took a few moments to figure out how to best tackle this obstacle. He tried to twist around to put his feet forward, but the shaft was too narrow. He finally decided to drop headfirst. With luck, he wouldn't come down too hard.

As he was bracing himself for the descent, Caim was surrounded by a sudden chill in the air. It cut through his thin clothing and bit deeper, down into his bones. For a moment, he felt as if his heart were going to stop. Then, it was gone.

With a shiver, he said, "I don't like this, Kit. Keep an eye out, eh?"

She didn't reply.

"Kit?"

He looked around as much as the shaft allowed, but there was no sign of her. She could be scouting ahead without being told, although that sounded too good to be true. Wonderful goddamn time to wander off. But he didn't have time to ponder her sudden absence. He had to keep moving. Josey needed him.

Caim wedged his hands against opposite walls and let go.

aim bit down on his tongue as the bottom of the chute rushed up faster than he anticipated. He shoved both hands hard against the walls. The blackened stone gouged his palms, but he kept up the pressure until he hit the bottom. Somehow he managed to land without bashing his skull open. He started to relax when clanks from above announced the falling bundles. They landed beside him with a loud crash.

Caim cursed and disengaged himself from the tether. He touched the tip of his tongue to his lips and winced. At least it's still attached.

He was in the fireplace of a large chamber. The slight illumination he had detected before came from an open doorway on the other side leading to a corridor that glowed with soft candlelight. The plain coverlets draped over the plush, oversized bed, along with the lack of personal effects, led him to believe this was a guest room, presently unused. But why was the door open? It was rather late for a dusting by the chambermaid.

Suspicious, Caim gathered up the bundles and padded across the pale sea green rug. Outside in the hallway, colorful arrays lined the walls in both directions. Candles flickered in brass holders, the wax dripping into reservoirs.

His soft-soled boots made no sound as he stalked down the corridor. He chose the right-hand branch, followed it to a T-section, and turned left until he came to another intersection. Caim was considering his next choice when a faint sound reached his ears. Voices. Judging by the reverberation, the speakers were in a large room. Like the Grand Hall.

Caim stole toward the noise. Every time he passed a candle, he reached up to snuff its wick. The passage behind him filled with darkness.

The corridor opened into a wide gallery. A carved marble balustrade overlooked the massive chamber below. Sacred Brothers were stationed at regular intervals around the balcony, four in all.

Caim left the bundles in the dark of the hallway and drew his knives. Two Brothers died without realizing their lives were in danger. He allowed the third to utter a muffled croak, which drew the last sentry into the shadows. Only when the gallery was clear did Caim take a moment to peer over the railing. His throat constricted as he spotted Josey, still alive-thank the gods-standing at the foot of a broad dais in a white gown. She didn't appear to have suffered any harm. In fact, she looked better than when he had left her at the cabin. A weight he hadn't fully realized he was carrying lifted from his chest. He hadn't failed her yet.

A large crowd filled the chamber below, surrounded by a platoon of Sacred Brothers. Despite their bedraggled appearance, the captives seemed to be aristocrats, many of them in their senior years. Expressions of fear and indignation played across their pinched faces.

Josey wasn't the only one Caim recognized. Ral, in a fancy black suit, sat in a gaudy throne atop the dais. One at a time, the captives were brought before him and made to kneel.

While Caim watched, the Brothers escorted an elderly lord in a night jacket to the steps of the dais. When they released him, the nobleman stood up as tall as his stooped back allowed.

"I will bow to no usurper!" he shouted in a powerful voice that belied his age. "I would rather die."