Shadow Blizzard (43 page)

“Well, may the forest spirits take me!” Glo-Glo exclaimed, shaking his head in delight. “I had no idea you could do that.”

“Neither did I,” I told the goblin, watching ruefully as the orc’s body disappeared into the thick green barrier, taking my sword with it.

“Come on, Harold, only two more intersections to go and we’re there. Orcs! We’ll diddle the lot of them.” And Glo-Glo stomped on, paying no attention to where the orc’s body had disappeared and my lost sword.

“Are you sure that in the last thirty years the orcs haven’t blocked off your little passage?”

“No, but we have to hope for the best.”

Two intersections after that the goblin grabbed hold of my arm and said, “Look.”

We were facing an open space exactly like the one where we met the bubblebelly. But there weren’t any exits leading off this one, and there were three tall green columns standing in it. Two of them were just plain columns, but the third one had two arms growing out of it, and they looked very much like the jaws of a praying mantis.

“What are we in for this time?” I groaned.

“These are the pillars I told you about,” the goblin muttered. “The ones without claws are sleeping, and that one’s on guard. They’re terribly quick, but if we can slip past them, we’ll be right beside the passage.”

“But where is the passage?” I asked. The pillars didn’t seem to be taking any notice of us, and I relaxed a bit.

“There it is, look!” the goblin said, as cool as a cucumber, pointing to the other side of the open space.

I had to strain my eyes to make out the goblin’s passage.

“Are you kidding?” I roared almost at the top of my voice. “A pregnant mouse would have a hard time trying to get through there.”

“Let’s not forget that last time I got through without any problem,” the goblin replied peevishly.

“But I’m not you! I’m not climbing in there!”

“Oh yes you are!”

“Why in the name of darkness did I ever listen to you?” I groaned.

“Because there’s a very good chance that thanks to me, you might survive.” Nothing could embarrass the goblin. “Believe me, my boy, the passage is a lot bigger than it looks. All right, if we waste any more time, one of the other Hunters or some other beast will find us. Just sprint for the passage as fast as you can and don’t get in the way of that pillar’s claws.”

“What about the others?”

“The others will take half a minute to wake up. Ready?”

I gulped hard and nodded.

“Run for it!”

Before we’d covered even a quarter of the distance, the pillar started moving toward us very fast, without making a sound.

In a single heartbeat, it was already towering up over us, and it took every last drop of agility I had to avoid a descending claw. I avoided it, but the pillar immediately struck again, after swinging its arm back round in some incredible fashion. I jumped one way, Glo-Glo jumped the other, and the claw hit the chain fettering us together close to the goblin’s arm.

The chain snapped, and Glo-Glo was left with just a bracelet, while I had all the rest. Setting the Labyrinth ringing with choice obscenities, I launched into a run, winding the chain onto my arm as I tried to catch up with the goblin.

The pillar was treading on my heels, so I dived into the narrow entrance after Glo-Glo like a fish. Somewhere behind me, claws clattered on the stone slabs, and I started working desperately with arms and legs, hauling myself as far away as possible from the rather agitated pillar. Fortunately for me and the goblin, the rotten beast didn’t try to storm the wall, and gave up on us.

“Glo-Glo, may you…,” I growled at the goblin crawling along in front of me. “Go slower, I can’t keep up.”

The goblin obligingly stopped and waited for me to catch up with him.

“Well, we pulled that off neatly, eh?”

“If you ignore the fact that your pillar very nearly nailed us and your passage is narrower than the space under a tight-fisted merchant’s bed, then yes … it was very neat.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll fit through here just fine!” Glo-Glo was much too pleased with himself to take any notice of my whinging. “Only don’t lift your head up, or you’ll end up in the wall!”

He didn’t have to remind me! I already knew that one twitch to the left or the right, and I’d touch the green walls of the patch.

“How far do we have to crawl?”

The shaman didn’t risk turning his face toward me. One wrong move in this place could lead to a grotesque death. It would be like escaping from the Gray Stones, tripping over your own feet, and breaking your neck. The law of universal swinishness in action, so to speak.

“Can you manage a hundred and fifty yards?”

I ground my teeth and said, “What choice do I have? I’ll manage it. Just as long as it doesn’t get any narrower.”

“It won’t. Keep crawling.”

We crawled on. The only place I’d ever “enjoyed” myself so much was in Hrad Spein, when I crawled through that long, narrow stone tunnel. When I reckoned we’d already covered most of the distance, Glo-Glo suddenly stopped moving, stopped panting, and announced: “Er, Harold … we’ve got a little problem here.”

“What kind of problem?” I asked in a trembling voice, already imagining that the goblin had come nose to nose with some other monster of the Labyrinth.

“There’s a skeleton lying across the path.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that he’s lying right across our path,” he repeated patiently. “I might be able to crawl over him, but I doubt very much if you can.”

“Just don’t tell me we have to crawl back,” I hissed angrily.

“Absolutely not! I’ll take him apart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bone by bone. Wait.”

I had to lie there, listening to the goblin snuffling. Eventually even my patience ran out and I hissed like a grass snake with a cold: “Well, how much longer?”

“It’s done. I hope the deceased isn’t offended with us. Right, I’ll just get the skull out of the way.… Why, you! There … that’s it. Crawl!”

I didn’t know how the goblin had managed it, but all I found on the path were a few bones pressed into the earth (there weren’t any stone slabs in the passage). Glo-Glo had fed everything else to the wall. The rest of the journey to safety passed off uneventfully, and when the shaman and I emerged from the passage, we were greeted by a roar from the stands.

We were in another round space, with a massive triangular gray stone lying in the middle of it. And standing between the slab of stone and us was the third Hunter. When he caught sight of us, he smiled and bowed (which was surprising enough in itself) and drew his yataghan.

The Firstborn was in no hurry to attack. He was clearly waiting for us to try to get through to the stone. I looked at his yataghan, and regretted the untimely loss of my sword.

“Now what do we do?” I hissed through my teeth without moving my lips. “This snake’s just dreaming of slicing you and me to ribbons.”

“I have a dagger,” said Glo-Glo, taking the Eastern trinket out from behind his belt.

“Are you counting on this lad laughing himself to death when he sees your toothpick?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the smiling orc.

“What if you throw the dagger at the Hunter? Like the sword.”

“Two miracles in one day would be too much. It won’t work. But how’s your magic doing?”

“Out of the question. In the mittens it could go very wrong. Better not to try.”

The orc was clearly starting to get impatient, and he beckoned to us with his finger, keeping that smile fixed on his face.

“Come on, Glo-Glo, go all the way round him,” I suggested. “He won’t get two of us at once.”

“Nonsense.”

“That way at least someone will reach the stone.”

The shaman didn’t argue, and started running round the orc in a wide circle. The Firstborn hadn’t been expecting such an original move from the monkeys and he stopped smiling and dashed to intercept the goblin.

Glo-Glo stepped up the pace even more. I dashed toward the stone, and the orc immediately forgot about the goblin and started for me. I hurtled toward him, twirling the chain round above my head—a full yard of it.

The smart shaman did what I’d told him to do and didn’t get involved in the fight. He hopped up onto the stone and instantly disappeared.

The orc was blocking my way. I flung the chain forward, trying to hit him in the face. He dodged to one side as smoothly as if he was dancing and slashed with his yataghan. I dropped to the ground rather clumsily, rolled, and swung the chain. The warrior obviously wasn’t trying to kill me straightaway, he’d decided to entertain the crowd. Now I was between the orc and the stone, and I wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that slip. I dashed for the stone, leaving my opponent with his mouth hanging open.

Had that cretin really been expecting me to tempt fate and take on a yataghan with a pitiful length of broken chain? The Firstborn really did underestimate men far too much! Maybe we were monkeys, unworthy of living in Siala, but we certainly weren’t fools!

“Stop, you coward! Fight!” I heard him roar behind me, but it was too late, I’d already hopped up on the stone.

Bang!
I was back in Leather Apron’s pen. And there was Glo-Glo, grinning. Some of the orcs were rubbing their hands in delight, and some were swearing blue murder. For an instant Olag and Fagred’s leering mugs actually looked like those of friends and family. No doubt they, their commander, and the shaman had won a whole heap of valuables, or whatever it is orcs use for wagers.

“Hold your hands out, monkeys!” Leather Apron growled. “I’ll take your chains off.”

“Congratulations, Harold!” Glo-Glo chuckled. “Now you can count yourself one of the few who’ve been through the Labyrinth and lived.”

“Don’t be in such a hurry, greeny,” Leather Apron rumbled. “We’ll see how you run tomorrow, when they close that passage off.”

I just stood there with my jaw hanging open until Olag and Fagred took me and the goblin back up the steps.

*   *   *

“You didn’t tell me anything about a second run in the Labyrinth!” I told Glo-Glo angrily, after we’d been sent back to our pit.

“I didn’t want to upset you before I had to,” the goblin began cautiously.

“Glo-Glo,” I began, speaking from the heart, “when
were
you going to tell me?”

“This evening,” he replied promptly.

“So how many times altogether do I have to go down into that darkness-damned Labyrinth?”

The goblin hesitated and tried not to look at me.

“So, how many?” I asked, determined to be pitiless.

“The festival starts in mid-autumn and lasts for eight days.”

“Eight days?” I repeated after the shaman, like an echo.

So we had to entertain the Firstborn and risk our skins another seven times.

“Well, if I’d told you about it this morning, just think what a state you’d have been in when we entered the Labyrinth!”

“Eight days?” I still couldn’t believe in such an absolutely swinish twist of fate.

“There, you see?” the goblin sighed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“So tell me, has anyone ever managed to last that long?” Naturally, I asked the question rhetorically.

“Actually, no,” the shaman replied reluctantly. “No one ever has. The longest is three days.”

“Then what are we hoping for?”

“Maybe I’ll be able to think of something.”

“How did you manage to avoid the troublesome attention of the orcs during your first visit to the Labyrinth?”

“A-a-a-ah…,” said the goblin, with a smug grin. “That time I escaped straight after the first run. There weren’t any pits back then, and the orcs did a poor job of guarding us. And bearing in mind that the orcs got truly plastered in honor of the festival, then in the distant halcyon days of my youth it was fairly easy to escape. Not like now.”

“But that means the orcs will have more than a few drinks tonight, too.…”

“Yes, but you and I can’t soar up into the air, and even if we could, that grille wouldn’t let us out.”

At that very moment the grille slid to one side and Olag and Fagred looked down on us.

“You run well, little monkeys. Bagard and Shokren are very pleased with you.”

The orcs lowered a bag full of food and two flasks down to us.

“Eat and build up your strength. You have to run again tomorrow.”

The grille slid back into place, but Fagred still felt he had to remind us that he was keeping his eye on us.

That evening we had a real feast. They’d given us heaps of food, all sorts of things. One flask was full of water, the other was full of wine.

The orcs weren’t just sitting about doing nothing, either, and every now and then we heard singing and drum rolls. The rotten snakes were making merry and, basically, they had every right to. They weren’t the ones sitting a damn lousy pit!

*   *   *

“Pssst! Psssst! Hey! Harold, are you there?”

Through my dream I could hear the hissing of a frantic skillet. I decided to take no notice of this extraneous noise and sleep a bit longer, but it was hopeless! The hissing carried on, and then it was joined by pokes in the ribs. That was Glo-Glo. I had no choice but to wake up.

“What?” I asked the goblin.

“There’s someone up there!”

I looked up, but the clouds had hidden the stars and moon, and the night was dark, so there was no point in trying to make anything out. I heard that squeaky sound above me again.

“Pssssst! Harold, are you there?”

“Who’s tha— Kli-Kli, is that you?”

“Well, at last!” the royal jester jabbered in delight. “I was beginning to think that flinny had lied!”

“Are you alone?”

“No, with Egrassa.”

“Can you shift the grille?”

I never thought I could ever feel so delighted. I almost launched into a dance!

“No, Harold,” Egrassa replied. “There’s a lock on it. If we break it off, the orcs will hear. Do you know who has the key?”

“Wait a moment! If I get your mittens off, can you shift the grille quietly?” I asked Glo-Glo, who hadn’t said a word all this time.