Foster, Dean - Spellsinger 02 - The Hour of the Gate

said huskily, "but we'd better hurry."

They increased their pace. Then Talea warned them to

silence. They were nearing the last gate.

Three guards squatted around a desk on the other side of

the barred door. A steady babble of conversation filtered into

the corridor from the open door on the far side of the guard

room as busy workers came and went. Jon-Tom wondered at

the absence of a heavier guard until it came to him that escape

would be against orders, an action foreign to all but deranged

Plated Folk.

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But there was still the barred doorway and the three

administrators beyond.

"How did you get past them?" Caz asked Talea.

"I haven't been past them. Eejakrat believed my story, but

only to a point. He wasn't about to give me me run of the

city. I had a room, not a cell, on the level below this one. If I

wanted out, I had to send word to him. We haven't got time

for that now. Pretty soon they'll be finding the body I left."

Mudge located a small fragment of loose black cement. He

tossed it down the stairs they'd ascended. It made a gratifyingly

loud clatter.

"Nesthek, is that you?" one of the administrators called

toward the doorway. When there was no immediate reply he

rose from his position at the desk and left the game to his

companions.

The excapees concealed themselves as best they could. The

administrator sounded perplexed as he approached the doorway.

"Nesthek? Don't play games with me. I'm losing badly as

it is."

"Bugger it," Mudge said tensely. "I thought at least two

of them would come to check."

"You take this one," said Clothahump. "The rest pf us

will quietly rush me others."

"Nesthek, what are you...?" Mudge stabbed upward

with his sword. He'd been lying nearly hidden by me lowest

bar of the doorway. The sword went right into the startled

guard's abdomen. At the same instant Caz leaped out of me

shadows to bring his knife down into one of me great

compound eyes. The guard-administrator slumped against me

bars. Talea fumbled for the keys at his waist.

"Partewx?" Then me other querulous guard was half out

of his seat as his companion ran to give the alarm. He didn't

make it to the far door. Pog landed on his neck and began

stabbing rapidly with his stiletto at the guard's head and face.

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The creature swung its four arms wildly, trying to dislodge

the flapping dervish that clung relentlessly to neck and head.

Ror swung low with her sword and cut through both legs.

The other who had turned and drawn his own scimitar

swung at Bribbens. The boatman hopped halfway to the

ceiling, and the deadly arc passed feet below their intended

target.

As the guard was bringing back his sword for another cut,

Jen-Tom swung at him with his staff. The guard ducked the

whistling club-head and brought his curved blade around. As

he'd been taught to, Jon-Tom spun the long shaft in his hands

as if it were an oversized baton. The guard jumped out of

range. Jon-Tom thumbed one of the hidden studs, sad a foot

of steel slid directly into the startled guard's thorax. Caz's

sword decapitated him before he hit the floor.

"Hold!"

Everyone looked to the right. There was a waste room

recessed into that wall. It had produced a fourth administrator

guard. He was taller than Jon-Tom, and the insect shape

struggling in the three-armed grasp looked small in comparison.

The insect head of Talea's disguise had been ripped off.

Her red hair cascaded down to her shoulders. Two arms held

her firmly around neck and waist while the thud held a knife

over the hollow of her throat.

"Move and she dies," said the guard. He began to edge

toward the open doorway leading outside, keeping his back

hard against the wall.

"If he gives the alarm we're finished, mates," Mudge

whispered.

"Let's rush them," said Caz,,

"No!" Jon-Tom put an arm in front of the rabbit. "We

can't. He'll—"

Talea continued to struggle in the unrelenting grip. "Do

something, you idiots!"

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Alan Dean Foster

Seeing that no one was going to act and that she and her

captor were only a few yards from the doorway, she put both

feet on the floor and thrust convulsively upward. The knife

slid through her throat, emerging from the back of her neck.

Claret spurted across the stones.

Everyone was too stunned to scream. The guard cursed, let

the limp body fall as he bolted for the exit. Pog was waiting

for him with a knife that went straight between the compound

eyes. The guard never saw him. He'd had eyes only for his

grounded opponents and hadn't noticed the bat hanging above

the portal.

Caz and Mudge finished the giant quickly. Jon-Tom bent

over the tiny, curled shape of Talea. The blood flowed freely

but was already beginning to slow. Major arteries and veins

had been severed.

He looked back at Clothahump but the wizard could only

shake his head. "No time, no time, my boy. It's a long spell.

Not enough time."

Weak life looked out from those sea-green eyes. Her mouth

twisted into a grimace and her voice was faint. "One of.. .these

days you're going to have to make... the important decisions

without help, Jon-Tom." She smiled faintly. "You know... I

think I love you...."

The tears came in a flood, uncontrollable. "It's not fair,

Talea, Damn! It's not fair! You can't tell me something like

that and then leave me! You can't!"

But she died anyway.

He found he was shaking. Caz grabbed his shoulders,

shook him until it stopped.

"No time for that now, my friend. I'm sorry, too, but this

isn't the place.for being sorry."

"No, it is not." Clothahump was examining the body.

"She'll stop bleeding soon. When she does, clean her chitin

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and put her head back on. It's over in the corner there, where

the guard threw it."

Jon-Tom stood, looked dazedly down at the wizard. "You

can't...?"

"I'll explain later, Jon-Tom. But all may not be lost."

"What the hell do you mean, 'all may not be lost'?" His

voice rose angrily. "She's dead, you senile old..."

Clothahump let him finish, then said, "I forgive the names

because I understand the motivation and the source. Know

only that sometimes even death can be forgiven, Jon-Tom."

"Are you saying you can bring her back?"

"I don't know. But if we don't get out of here quickly

we'll never have the chance to find out."

Hor and Bribbens slipped the insect head back into place

over the pale face and flowing hair. Jon-Tom wouldn't help.

"Now everyone look and act official," Clothahump urged

them. "We're taking a dead prisoner out for burial."

Bribbens, Mudge, Caz, and Hor supported Talea's body

while Pog flew formation overhead and Jon-Tom and Clothahump

marched importantly in front. A few passing Plated Folk

glanced at them when they emerged from the doorway, but no

one dared question them.

One of the benefits of infiltrating a totalitarian society,

Jon-Tom thought bitterly. Everyone's afraid to ask anything

of anyone who looks important.

They were on the main floor of the palace. It took them a

while to find an exit (they dared not ask directions), but

before long they were outside in the mist of the palace

square.

The sky was as gray and silent as ever and the humidity as