Flight of the Night Hawks. Raymond E. Feist
top of the stairs. He’s in the only bed, but there’s a large mat rolled up under the bed you can share.’ He glanced at the girl and said, ‘Get yourself back to bed, girl, we have a long day tomorrow.’ He then motioned to his wife who had been quietly washing the blood off the table and floor and said, ‘I’ll help you in a moment, Elizabeth.’
She nodded. ‘I know. You need to send that message.’
He returned the nod and left the common room through the door in the rear. The innkeeper’s wife looked at the boys and said, ‘Go up and get what rest you may. It is only three hours until sunrise, and there will be work for all tomorrow.’ She indicated a candle on the bar.
Zane picked up the candleholder and the boys mounted the stairs without a word and paused a moment before the door, then entered. Caleb lay in his bed, a heavy down comforter pulled up to his chin, his face pale and drawn.
Tad knelt and pulled the rolled-up mat, and the boys lay on it.
‘What do we do now?’ whispered Zane after a while.
TAD CAME AWAKE SUDDENLY.
Someone was opening the door and he nudged Zane awake as it swung aside. It was near sunrise; the sky outside the window displayed a slightly rose-tinged grey light, but it was still too dark in the room to make out the features of the man who stood there.
‘Huh?’ said the half-asleep Zane as Tad fumbled to where he put the candle.
‘You won’t need that,’ said the figure in the doorway as he held up his hand. Suddenly light filled the room, an unnatural white glow that held a hint of blue. Zane blinked and Tad stood up as the figure entered the room.
He matched Caleb in height and resembled the hunter, but his skin was fair and his hair was white. He had eyes of the palest blue, but their set and expression were exactly like Caleb’s. As he entered the room, another figure, McGrudder, stepped into the doorway.
Zane scrambled to get out of the way as the stranger knelt to examine Caleb. After only a moment, the man said, ‘You did well to contact me. His breathing is shallow, his heartbeat is weak, and he burns with fever. If nothing is done, he’ll be dead by noon.’
The man looked at Tad and said, ‘Who are you?’
‘Tad,’ he answered. ‘That’s Zane. We were travelling with Caleb.’
‘What are you to my brother?’
Zane exchanged glances with Tad, then he said, ‘I suppose you would say Caleb was taking us to be apprentices.’
The pale man frowned and said, ‘I wouldn’t say. What you are to him will be sorted out later, now I must take him with me to save him. You stay here.’
‘Wait a minute, Magnus,’ said McGrudder coming into the room. ‘You know they can’t stay here.’
‘Why not?’ asked Magnus, standing up. ‘You know I can’t take them with me.’
‘But you must,’ said McGrudder. ‘They’ve seen you, and even a chance remark to the wrong person …’ He inclined his head towards the boys. ‘You know.’
‘Put them to work,’ suggested Magnus.
‘I can’t. You know your father will move all of us out of here in a day or two. Those men might have been bandits, as the boys told me, or they may have been more than that. Either way, Pug will move us, just in case, and there will be another innkeeper and his family. They’ll say that they’re distant relatives, or that this place was purchased, or some story.’ He glanced around, as if already regretting the need to leave this cosy little inn. ‘The villagers know better than to say anything to strangers, but the old witch already knows too much and no one can keep her from doing whatever she wishes to; these boys just add two more potential problems if you leave them here. If they were followed, and if they were known to have travelled with Caleb … it’s best if all of us were gone from here as soon as possible.
‘Besides, if Caleb was apprenticing them as they say, you know what that means.’
Magnus glanced at the two boys and said, ‘He sees something in them. Very well.’ To the boys he said, ‘Stand close to me after I pick up my brother.’
He reached down and even though Caleb was equal in size and weight, Magnus picked him up as effortlessly as if he were a child. ‘Now, stay very close,’ he said.
Tad and Zane did as instructed and were suddenly swept into darkness for an instant. The next second, they stood in a hall.
Zane almost fell over, so sudden was the change and following disorientation. Tad looked around, blinking like a barn owl blinded by a lantern.
The man McGrudder had called Magnus started walking down the hall, leaving the boys standing alone. They glanced at one another, each seeing a reflection of his own shocked, pale expression. Then Zane nodded and they were off, following after the man, for they had no desire to be left alone in this alien place.
Even carrying his brother, Magnus moved rapidly, and the boys had to hurry to catch up. Their surroundings were lost on them until they realized that they were in some sort of massive building, for all the hallways they passed through had granite or marble walls and floors, illuminated by torches bolted by iron fittings to the walls on either side of a series of heavy wooden doors. Each door had a small covered window, barely more than a peephole, in its centre.
‘This looks like a dungeon,’ muttered Zane.
‘And how would you know?’ asked Tad in a whisper. ‘You ever see one?’
‘No, but you know what I mean. This is what dungeons are supposed to look like – from stories.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Zane as they turned a corner around which Magnus had just vanished.
The boys came to an abrupt halt. Before them a large corridor emptied into a vast hall. The vaulted ceiling could barely be seen, its surfaces darkened by the rising soot from at least a hundred torches ringing the expanse. Against the far wall rose a heroic statue of a woman, her arms outstretched as if bidding those standing below to come into her embrace. Behind her, on either side, smaller bas-relief figures had been carved into the wall.
‘Is that who I think it is?’ whispered Tad.
‘Must be, look at the net over her right arm,’ said Zane.
Both boys made every ward of protection sign they had ever seen a gambler, teamster, or porter make and then slowly followed the rapidly hurrying Magnus. They were in the temple of Lims-Kragma: the Drawer of Nets, the Death Goddess.
Several black-robed figures were emerging from a couple of doors to the left of the statue, and suddenly two men appeared behind the boys. One hurried past them, but the other paused and asked quietly, ‘What is your business here, boys?’
Tad pointed to Magnus, who was now laying his brother at the feet of the statute, and said, ‘We’re with him.’
‘Then come along,’ said the man.
They nodded and hurried after him.
Zane studied the man out of the corner of his eye, afraid to look directly at him. He had plain features and was almost bald, save for stubble around the back of his head to his ears. He was otherwise unremarkable. Except for one thing; he wore the robe of a priest of the Goddess of Death.
An elderly man entered the hall from a door to the right, walking slowly with the aid of a white staff taller than himself. His white hair flowed to his shoulders and it wasn’t until he was almost at Magnus’ side that the boys saw that his eyes were filmed over;