The Ship Who Won (26 page)

sounded so pleased.

Plenna dodged against the left wall to avoid colliding

with a grossly-wheeled wagon pulled by six-packs and piled

high with garbage. There was barely enough space for both

of them, but somehow the magiwoman made it by. After a

short interval, Keff heard a few loud scrapes, and a couple

of hard splats, followed by furious and derisive yells. Two

more magimen would be abandoning the race as they

went home to clean refuse out of their gorgeous robes.

Another scrape ended in a sickening-sounding crunch.

Keff guessed the magiman on that chariot had misjudged

the space between the cart and the wall. That left eight in

pursuit. Keff risked a glance. The silver glimmer at the

front was Chaumel, and behind him the dark green ofAse-dow, the pink-gold ofPotria, Nokias's gold, and the shadow

that was Femgal were grouped in his wake. More ranged

behind them, but he couldn't identify them.

Plennafrey wound her way through the irregular, narrowing corridor, tossing spells over her shoulder to slow

her pursuers.

"I would turn around and weave a web to snare them,"

she said, "but I dare not take my eyes off our path."

"I agree with you wholeheartedly, lady," Keff said.

"Keep your eyes on the road. Look, its lighter up ahead."

A lessening of the gloom before them suggested a

larger chamber, with more room to maneuver. Plenna

crested the high threshold and let out a moan of dismay.

The room widened out into a big cavern, but it was as

smooth and featureless as a bubble. Racks and racks of

bottles lined the lower half of the walls. No spaces

between them suggested any way out.

"A dead end," Keff said, in a flat tone. "We're in

Chaumels wine cellar. No wonder he was gloating."

"I was trying to tell you," Carialle spoke up in a contrite

voice. "You weren't listening."

"I'm sorry, Can. It was a wild ride," Keff said

Plennafrey turned in a loop that brought Keffs heart up

into his throat and made for the narrow entrance, but it

was suddenly filled by Chaumel and the rest of the posse.

Plennafrey reversed her chair until she was hovering in the

center of the room. Eight chairs surrounded her, looking

like a hanging jury.

"... And it looks like its over."

186 Anne McCaffrey

'There you are, my friends. You left us too soon,"

Chaumel said. "Magess Plennafrey, you overreached yourself. You misunderstand how reluctant we are to allow such

prizes as this stranger and his tower to be won by the least

of our number."

Keff felt Plenna's knees tighten against his back.

"Perhaps he does not want to be anyone's property," she

said. "I will leave him his freedom."

"You do not have the right to make that choice,

Magess," Nokias said. He stretched out his arms and

planted one big hand across the ring that encircled his

other wrist. Keff braced himself as red bolts shot out of the

bracelet, enveloping him and the floating chair.

An invisible rod collected the bolts, diverting them

harmlessly down into nothingness. The astonished look on

Nokiass face said that he neither expected Plennafrey to

defy him nor to be able to counteract his attack.

'That's what hit you on the plain," Carialle whispered in

Keffs ear. "Same frequency. It must have been Nokias.

My, he looks surprised."

The other magimen lifted their objects of power, preparing an all-out assault on their errant member.

"Please, friends," Chaumel said, moving between them

toward the wary pair in the center. His eyes were glowing

with a mad, inner light. "Allow me."

He took the wand from the sleeve on his belt and raised

it. Keff glanced up at Plennafrey. The magiwoman, glaring

defiance, began to wind up air in her arms.

T see what she's doing," Carialle said, her voice

alarmed. "Keff, tell her not to teleport again. I wont-"

The cavern exploded in a brilliant white flash.

Except for the absence of eight angry magimen, Keff

and Plennafrey might not have moved. They were in the

center of a globe hewn from the bare rock. Then Keff

noticed that the walls were rougher and the ceiling not so

high. Plennafrey hastily brought the chair to earth. She

sighed a deep breath of relief. Keff seconded it.

He sprang up and offered her his hand. With a small

smile, she reached out and took it, allowing him to assist

her from jthe chair.

"My lady, I want to thank you very sincerely for saving

my life," Keff said, bowing over their joined hands. When

he looked up, Plenna was pink, but whether with pleasure

or embarrassment Keff wasn't sure.

"I could not let them treat you like chattel," she said. T

feel you are a true man for all you are not one of us."

"A true man offers homage to a true lady," Keff said,

bowing again. Plennafrey freed herself and turned away,

clutching her hand against herself shyly. Keff smiled.

"What pretty manners you have," Carialle's voice said. It

sounded thin and very far away. "You're forty-five degrees

of planetary arc away from your previous location. I just

had time to trace you before your power burst dissipated.

You're in a small bubble pocket along another one of those

long cavern complexes. What is this place?"

T was just about to ask that." Keff looked around him.

"Lady, where are we?"

Unlike Chaumel's wine cellar, this place didn't smell

overpoweringly of wet limestone and yeast. The slight

mineral scent of the air mixed with a fragrant, powdery

perfume. Though large, the room had the sensation of

intimacy. A comfortable-looking, overstuffed chair

sprawled in the midst of little tables, fat floor pillows,

and toy animals. Against one wall, a small bed lay

securely tucked up beneath a thick but worn counter-pane beside a table of trinkets. Above it, a hanging lamp

with a cobalt-blue shade, small and bright like a jewel,

glowed comfortingly. Keff knew it to be the private

bower of a young lady who had taken her place as an

adult but was not quite ready to give up precious childhood treasures.

"It is my . . . place," Plennafrey said. IT missed the

adjective, but Keff suspected the missing word was "secret"

or "private." Seeing the young woman's shy pride, he felt

sure no other eyes but his had ever seen this sanctuary.

"We are safe here."

"I'm honored," Keff said sincerely, returning his gaze

to Plennafrey. She smiled at him, watchful. He glanced

down at the bedside shelf, chose a circular frame from

which the images of several people projected slightly.

He picked it up, brought it close to his eyes for Carialle

to analyze.

"Holography," Carialle said at once. "Well, not exactly.

Similar effect, but different technique."

Keff turned the frame in his hands. The man standing at

the rear was tall and thin, with black hair and serious eyebrows. He had his hands on the shoulders of two boys who

resembled him closely. The small girl in the center of the

grouping had to be a younger version of Plennafrey. "Your

family?"

"Yes."

"Handsome folks. Where do they live?"

She looked away. 'They're all dead," she said.

"I am sorry," Keff said.

Plennafrey turned her face back toward him, and her

eyes were red, the lashes fringed with tears. She fumbled

with the long, metallic sash, lifted it up over her head, and

flung it as far across the room as she could. It jangled

against the wall and slithered to the floor.

"I hate what that means. I hate being a magess. I would

have been so happy if not for .. ." IT tried to translate her

speech, and fell back to suggesting roots for the words she

used. None of it made much sense to Keff, but Carialle

interrupted him.

"I think she killed them, Keff," she said, alarmed.

"Didn't Chaumel say that the only way to advance in the

ranks was by stealing artifacts and committing murder?

You're shut up in a cave with a madwoman. Don't make

her angry. Get out of there."

"I don't believe that," Keff said firmly. 'They all died,

you said? Do you want to tell me about it?" He took both

the girl's hands in his. She flinched, trying to pull away, but

Keff, with a kind, patient expression, kept a steady, gentle

pressure on her wrists. He led her to the overstaffed footrest and made her sit down. 'Tell me. Your family died,

and you inherited the power objects they had, is that right?

You don't mean you were actually instrumental in their

deaths."

"I do," Plenna said, her nose red. "I did it. My father

was a very powerful mage. He ... ed Nokias himself."

"Rival," IT rapped out crisply. Keff nodded.

'They both wished the position of Mage of the South,

but Noldas took it. Losing the office troubled him. Over

days and days-time, he went-" Helplessly, she fluttered

fingers in the vicinity of her temple, not daring to say the

word out loud.

"He went mad," Keff said. Plenna dropped her eyes.

"Yes. He swore he would rival the Ancient Ones. Then

he decided having children had diminished his power. He

wanted to destroy us to get it back."

"Horrible," Keff said. "He was mad. No one in his right

mind would ever think of killing his children."

"Don't say that!" Plennafrey begged him. "I loved my

father. He had to keep his position. You don't know what

it's like on Ozran. Any sign of weakness, and someone else

will... step in."

"Go on," Keff said gravely. Aided occasionally by IT,

Plennafrey continued.

'There is not much to tell. Father tried many rituals to

build up his connection with the Core of Ozran and

thereby increase his power, but they were always unsuccessful. One day, two years ago, I was studying ley lines,

and I felt hostile power stronging up...."

"Building up," interjected IT.

"As I had been taught to do, I defended myself, making

power walls...."

"Warding?" Keff asked, listening to IT'S dissection of the

roots other phrase.

"Yes, and feeding power back along the lines from

which they came. There was more than I had ever felt."

The girls pupils dilated, making her eyes black as she

relived the scene. "I was out on our balcony. Then I was

surrounded by hot fire. I built up and threw the power

away from me as hard as I could. It took all the strength I

had. The power rushed back upon its sender. It went past

me into our stronghold. I felt an explosion inside our

home. That was when I knew what I had done. I ran." Her

face was pale and haunted. 'The door of my fathers sanctum was blown outward. My brothers lay in the hall

beyond. All dead. All dead. And all my fault." Tears started

running down her cheeks. She dabbed at them with the

edge of a yellow sleeve. "Nokias and the others came to the

stronghold. They said I had made my first coup. I had

achieved the office ofmagess. I didn't want it. I had force-killed my family."

"But you didn't do it on purpose," Keff said, feeling in

his tunic pocket for a handkerchief and extending it to her.

"It was an accident."

'T could have let my father succeed. Then he and my

brothers might be alive," Plennafrey said. "I should have

known." A tear snaked down her cheek. Angrily, she wiped

her eye and sat with the cloth crumpled in her fists.

"You fought for your life. That's normal. You shouldn't

have to sacrifice yourself for anyone's power grab."

"But he was my father! I respected his will. Is it not like

that where you live?" the girl asked.

"No," Keff said with more emphasis than he intended.

"No father would do what he did. To us, life is sacred."

Plenna stared at her hands. She gave a little sigh. "I wish

I lived there, too."

"I hate this world more than ever," said Carialle, for

whom special intervention to save her life had begun

before she was bom. "Corruption is rewarded, child murder not even blinked at; power is the most important thing,

over family, life, sanity. Let's have them put an interdict on

this place when we get out of here. They haven't got space

travel, so we don't have to worry about them showing up in

the Central Worlds for millenia more to come."

"We have to get out of here first," Keff reminded her.

"Perhaps we can help them to straighten things out before

we go."

Carialle sighed. "Of course you're right, knight in shining armor. Whatever we can do, we should. I simply

cannot countenance what this poor girl went through."

Keff turned to Plennafrey. She stared down toward the

floor, not seeing it, but thinking other past.

"Please, Plennafrey," Keff said, imbuing the Ozran

phrases with as much persuasive charm in his voice as possible, "I'm new to your world. I want to learn about you

and your people. You interest me very much. What is

this?" he asked, picking up the nearest unidentifiable gew-gaw.

Distracted, she looked up. Keff held the little cylinder

up to her, and she smiled.