Aidan gripped Blarrak’s barbed spear so tightly that his knuckles cracked. His other hand drifted slowly to the hilt of Fury. His stomach was tied in knots.
“I guess your game all too easily,” Kearn continued. “You never liked Galdoth much, did you? And this was a perfect opportunity to do something about it. You had Galdoth unarmed, at your mercy. With him out of the way, more gold for all of you. Greedy scoundrels!”
“We did no such thing,” Drang said. “Though it is true none of us liked Galdoth very much . . . we did not do him in. We found many prints near the old tree. The bowhawkers left a company of braves behind . . . or maybe more. Perhaps Queen Illaria sent back a company to search the old tree.”
Kearn stared at Aidan, and then backed slowly away. “Say what you wish,” Kearn said at last. “But with a few creative twists of my own, I can use your lame excuse for a story to persuade Paragor to spare your miserable hides.” And with that, Kearn turned and walked swiftly out of the main cavern.
Aidan sighed. Kearn had been far too close for comfort. But in those moments while Kearn had been so close, Aidan had seen the book he carried. He was almost certain it was Antoinette’s Book of Alleble. She must be here, he thought.
Drang and the other dragon riders headed to a dining hall through a descending tunnel on the left of the cavern. Aidan hung back. At the first bend in the tunnel, he left them and ran back to the horrific cavern just inside the Gate of Despair.
The activity level in the cavern had increased markedly: Dragons were being saddled; the catapults and wagons were being wheeled out; and soldiers were arming themselves at the racks of weapons.
Drang had said that Kearn kept his pet in one of the towers. Trying not to be conspicuous, Aidan began making his way around the perimeter to the back of the cavern, searching for an opening that led upward. The first two clearly went down. The next one had a very tall arched entrance. The path beyond went neither up nor down, but rather straight in.
While he pondered where to go next, a strange warm breeze wafted out from the depths of the passage. Could the tunnel open up somewhere else, perhaps even outside? Aidan placed his hand on his sword’s handle, and warily made his way into the tunnel.
The passage was lit with torches, but the light was weak and flickered with the breeze. The terrain continued to be flat, though here and there Aidan’s boots crunched down on something brittle that snapped or splattered in small dark pools. “Oh, man!” Aidan exclaimed when he turned a corner. The odor was far stronger here. “If I survive this, I won’t be able to smell anything for a month!” he said as he made a feeble attempt to bury his nose and mouth in the crook of his elbow.
Aidan pressed on, until at last he came to a place where the path widened into a large room. Though the light from the torches was almost useless here, he could see about a half-dozen barred cells on either side of the passage. Beyond the cells, Aidan noted that the path split. The fork to the left was very narrow and looked to slope upward. The fork to the right had an enormous jagged appearance, but Aidan could not see well enough to tell what direction the other path took.
Aidan approached the first cell cautiously. It turned out to be empty. Just a small stool and an old tunic, tattered and stained. The next two cells were empty as well.
“Please, no!” came a raspy voice from behind. Aidan spun around and saw a pale withered arm flailing from a cell across the room. “Leave us be!”
“What?” Aidan exclaimed. “What did you say?”
Suddenly, a pale face appeared between the bars. It was a Glimpse with a long white beard and sunken eyes. “Please do not take me!” he said, and his eyes glinted green.
“I’m not taking you anywhere!” Aidan explained, realizing there were other cells nearby and all were filled with prisoners.
“Let us starve!” said the prisoner. “But please do not take us to—” He never finished the sentence, for there was a sudden noise from the other side of the room. Soldiers were coming. Their torches lit the way ahead of them, and they appeared from one branch of the path that Aidan hadn’t realized was forked. Aidan barely made it to a pocket of shadows near where he had come in.
“How many?” asked one of the Paragor Knights, gesturing to the cells.
“All of them,” replied another.
“All of them?” asked the first. “Are you sure?”
“There is no mistake,” replied the other. “By order of the master: The firstborn must be given all, for he has much work to do.”
The first knight turned to his men. “Open the cells. Get the lot of them!”
Aidan watched as systematically the Paragor Knights went from cell to cell, dragging out the frail Glimpses from each one. The prisoners shrieked and scratched, but they were far too weak to offer much resistance. Soon all the cells were empty, and the Paragor Knights rushed off with their captives down the fork.
Though he knew he probably shouldn’t, Aidan left his hiding place and followed them.
