Would you really give Leah of the Gallien such a promise?
I didn’t think that was a return to the third person; I think the Snab might have been speaking for itself that time, but I had no doubt that Leah wanted to know the same thing.
“I would.”
She said, “Do you promise on the soul of your mother, that she might burn in the fires of hell if you break your word?”
“I do,” I said without hesitation, and that was a promise I meant to keep. When Leah saw what her brother had become, she might kill him herself. I could hope for that. If not, I’d give Mr. Bowditch’s gun to Iota. He had never fired one before, but I didn’t expect any trouble on that account; guns are like cheap cameras, all you have to do is point and shoot.
You and your friends will follow Leah, and obey her?
“We will.”
She probably knew she couldn’t stop me from following her. The others might obey a command from Empis’s queen-in-waiting, but I wouldn’t. As she had already said, through Falada, I was not a prince of this world, and not bound by her commands.
Overhead, the sky brightened. We humans looked up. So did Radar. Even the Snab did. Bright orbs lit the clouds. The moons were now so close together they looked like a figure-eight lying on its side. Or the eternity symbol. In mere seconds they passed behind the palace spires and the sky was dark again.
“All right,” the Snab said. “I agree to your terms. No more talk, please. It hurts.”
“I know,” I said. “And I’m sorry.”
Radar whined and licked Leah’s hand. Leah bent and stroked her. The pact was made.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Into the City. The Sound of Mourning. Hana. She Who Once Sang. Gold. The Kitchen. The Receiving Chamber. We Must Go Up to Go Down.
1
Leah led us back to where the others waited. She sat down again without a word from Falada or the Snab. Iota looked at me. I nodded—done deal. We sat down with her and waited for dawn. It started to rain again, not hard but steadily. Leah took a poncho from the single saddlebag Falada carried and slipped it over her shoulders. She beckoned to Radar, who looked at me for permission, then went to Leah. She flapped the poncho over her. The Snab went, too. They were dry. The rest of us, dressed in the rags we’d escaped wearing, got wet. Jaya began to shiver. Eris hugged her. I told them they could go back. Both women shook their heads. Iota didn’t bother, just sat with his head bowed and his hands clasped.
Time passed. There came a moment when I looked up and realized I could see Leah. I raised a hand to her in question. She only shook her head. At last, when the day had brightened to a watery dawn, she got to her feet and tied Falada to a piece of iron that jutted from the remains of a brick wall rising from the rubble. She started down the path without looking to see if we were following. The Snab was on Radar’s back again. Leah walked slowly, occasionally brushing aside the thick growth of ivy, looking, then moving on. After five minutes or so, she stopped and began to tear at the vines. I moved to help her, but she shook her head. We had an agreement—a pact—but it was clear she wasn’t happy about it.
She pulled away more of the ivy and I saw the small door that had been hiding behind it. There was no latch, no knob. She beckoned to me and pointed at it. For a moment I didn’t know what was expected of me. Then I did.
“Open in the name of Leah of the Gallien,” I said, and the door swung open.
2
We entered a long barnlike building filled with ancient maintenance equipment. The shovels, hoes, and wheelbarrows were all covered in a thick pall of dust. The floor was also dusty, and there were no tracks except for the ones we left behind us. I spotted another of those bus/cart hybrids. I looked into it and saw a battery so corroded it was just a green lump. I wondered where these little vehicles—two at least, one still operative—had come from. Had Mr. Bowditch brought in equipment from our world piecemeal and assembled it here? I didn’t know. All I knew for sure was that the present regime cared little about keeping Lilimar neat and tidy. What it cared about were blood sports.
Leah led us out a door on the far side. We found ourselves in a kind of junkyard filled with disassembled trolleys, piles of power poles, and great snarls of trolley wires. We wove our way through this useless equipment, up a set of wooden steps, and into a room I and the other escapees recognized: the trolley storage area.
We were crossing the main terminal when the morning bell rang its one reverberating BONG. Leah stopped until the sound faded away, then went on. She still didn’t look back to see if we were following. Our footfalls echoed. Overhead a dark cloud of giant bats fluttered their wings but didn’t stir otherwise.