Sharfy screamed and fell backwards, hitting his shoulder on the rock wall. His hands fumbled for the knives at his belt, but he was so startled he struggled to free them. The monster didn’t bear down on him; it stood there with its arms raised — its human arms — and kept screeching at him, until its screeches dissolved into laughter. Unmistakeable laughter, which Eric had last heard when the invaders came through the door under the bridge. The beast had a cone of red hair.
The redhead took off the mask and gasped for breath. Sharfy’s eyes widened in rage. He got one of his curved knives free and lunged with a snarl, pinning the redhead by the throat with one forearm, the knife drawn back to strike.
‘No no no no,’ the redhead gasped, desperately trying to stop laughing, palms up. ‘Wait, wait, mighty warrior, wait …’
Sharfy sputtered, lost for words, then pushed him hard into the wall and turned away. Tears streamed down the redhead’s face. He curled on the cavern floor helplessly laughing, long after the joke would’ve ceased to amuse any normal person. He seemed to see Eric for the first time. Some of the cheer drained out of him. ‘Oh …’ he said, standing again. He looked Eric up and down, fascinated. ‘It’s the chap from Otherworld, from near the paper store! He got through!’ The redhead crouched low. ‘Different shoes? The last ones were white.’
‘Yes. Well, these are socks. Here.’ Eric opened the briefcase and held his polished black shoes up for the redhead’s inspection.
He examined them from several angles, put a hand inside each, then gave them back. ‘I like those, too. Not as much. But, pretty good!’ He turned to Sharfy. ‘Calmed down? Good. They sent me to find you. Anfen and the rest got chased to the surface! There was a miscommunication. We said “buy”, the groundmen heard “rent”. Or they just changed their minds. Either way, they wanted more rent. There shall be no underground base of operations below the castle. We have wasted three weeks.’
‘We agreed a price, gave what they asked,’ said Sharfy.
‘Mmmm. I am very much with you on this. Not very nice at all. Now what’s with our new friend?’
Sharfy explained what had happened, though according to his recollection, there’d been four or five war mages, and he had bravely run out in the open and dragged Eric down the tunnel, right as a deadly spell blasted their way. He seemed to earnestly believe it. ‘Saw a couple of Invia too,’ he added, voice lowered. ‘Up high on the cliff face. Just watching.’
‘Wait, wait. War mages sent to guard the door,’ said the redhead, rubbing his chin. ‘Sharfy said five, so I’m guessing one, maybe two. They let one Otherworlder through, but killed a whole lot of others. Is that much true, or is it a Sharfy special?’
‘It’s true,’ said Eric. ‘It told me to run, so I ran.’
The redhead looked dubiously at them both, but shrugged. ‘And the Invia just watched it all? All the poor helpless Otherworlders getting slain, not a bat of their wings?’
‘Just watched,’ said Sharfy.
‘I’m not sure what he means by Invia,’ said Eric. ‘If there was something else there, I didn’t see it.’
The newcomer nodded, his cone of hair swaying. ‘Mmmm. And just because Sharfy saw it, doesn’t mean it was there. Anyway, I believe you about the pit devils. Their tracks are all over the place. Most odd, and we just may bump into some. It is why I wore this. But I only brought two.’ He held up the mask he’d worn by its horns. ‘They aren’t bright critters. Wear one of their skinned faces stuck to some hide, and some scent, and you can walk right past them, I’m told.’
‘You’ve never actually tried this?’ said Eric.
‘Of course not. Far too risky. Even if they think you’re one of them, they still often enough attack each other.’ He leaned close and whispered: ‘There’s an excellent chance we’re going to be mauled. To death.’
They let Sharfy take the lead. The redhead introduced himself as Kiown. He looked Eric up and down as they went, quizzing him about his garments. The tie in particular fascinated him. ‘Just a decoration,’ Eric explained. ‘You wear it on formal occasions.’
‘Mmm! Are you nobility, back there?’
He was about to deny it, but then … what if such an illusion was useful? ‘Well, yes,’ he said, affecting slight embarrassment. ‘Not a king or a prince, but connected to the ruling family, you could say. It’s nothing, really.’ Kiown whistled, impressed, his imagination clearly filling in many blanks. ‘Here.’ Eric undid the tie’s knot, slid it free, then handed it over. Kiown held it, stroked it, then gave it back. ‘No, you keep it.’
‘Really?’ Delighted, Kiown experimentally draped it over his shoulder, then wrapped it around his wrist. ‘Can it be worn like this?’
‘Sure.’ Eric reflected he wouldn’t need a tie for a while. Maybe never again. And how did he feel about that? Not too bad, whatever the dangers … not too bad.
11
From her perch on the sheer cliff’s face, the Invia watched the green valley, here at the world’s highest and northernmost point. She had done so since the doors began to open, her sister on the cliff face opposite. They had watched the castle’s Lord walk through here too, and seen what he had done. Opening the gap between worlds had looked like an accident … if so, it was an accident the Invia had seen coming. The dragons had predicted it, down to the very hour and, as a rare treat, shared their knowledge.
It took a moment for recognition of the old man to dawn: on her brief excursion to Otherworld she’d seen him for just a moment, she was sure, lying under the bridge asleep and knowing no more of her than the passing wind as she flew by, invisible. She had barely picked him out from the background of that strange, strange place, with its air so stale, foul-smelling and empty of power, its sights and sounds so alien, and its incredible big ball of fire in the sky.
Old but sturdy enough, he seemed, though his footsteps were unsteady. Not lacking in courage, unless he was just too stupid to understand the risk he’d taken, approaching a war mage, even one on the brink of its own death. About the old man, the aura light was an unhealthy smoky grey. So many of better stock had died on the grass. Though she could have, she had not been tempted to save him from his danger, nor any of the others. Yet: he lived. Perhaps he carried a charm.
Nor did she know why the war mage had spared the Otherworlder first through that particular door, but she meant to find out.
She whistled across to her sister on the opposite canyon wall, a sound human ears would not hear: This one! Here is our spy.
Her sister whistled back in acknowledgement, wry humour in the sound, then flew straight up before angling south, presumably off to tell the others that things had transpired as mighty Vyin of the dragon-youth had said: two had indeed passed safely through the gap between worlds, not just one.
The airborne Invia flew till she was a disappearing dot passing through a band of cloud, soon hidden even from the remaining one’s far-seeing eyes.
And now the old man, if his luck held, would hear the hidden words of Vous, of the Arch Mage, and understand them, the same way she herself had understood the voices of men, of dogs, even of the rustling wind, when she’d ventured into Otherworld. (Not that any of those had had much of interest to say!) For decades, none beyond the castle’s heavily enchanted walls had heard the private words and plans spoken within. One could only watch their actions below like pieces moving in an almost comprehensible game: the armies marching about; war mages flocking here or there like carrion birds; the new cities being built close to the castle, despite the old cities further away having already too few people.
Watch as they might, the Invia never knew much more than one trying to discern the intentions of whoever had left old footprints in the sand. The young dragons, if they knew, kept their secrets; they could not descend in body to act in the world below, nor disturb events through servants or spells, as the Dragon-god willed. Nor could they so much as crane their necks out through the doors of their prisons to gaze with their eyes, which saw so far and clearly. No: they simply conversed amongst themselves, dropping morsels of careful thought like crumbs from a meal, an act perilously close to, if not actually, breaking the natural laws. And it happened that the Invia might be outside their sky prison holds, to catch them.