CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ANOTHER ESCAPE
Locke took a long time in coming back, which left Edgar and Terra free to while away the time talking by the fireplace in Pierre's living room. Terra had gone and changed into warmer clothes, including the dark red cloak which complemented her hair. Her beauty and the romantic atmosphere of the fireplace and the fact that this was the first time that they had ever been alone together made Edgar amorous. And Terra was so relieved that her recent ordeal was over that she didn't have the energy to keep the conversation in check; so inevitably they fell to talking about their adventures, and Edgar slyly made reference to two occasions on which Locke had saved her life: the first being when the raider that had tried to carry her off and the second being when he warmed her with his own body heat when they couldn't build a fire.
"Yes...so?" said Terra, not knowing where he was going with this.
"Yes, well, you see, my dear," said Edgar, "Locke has a very complicated past. Certain experiences he has had make him very protective of the women in his life."
"And?" she said impatiently.
"And, well, I wouldn't want you to think...that is, I want to prepare you for the fact that he may not actually return any...uh...romantic feelings you may have for him. I say this as your friend."
"Yes, of course you do," said Terra ironically. "It wasn't me he was saving, right? It was Rachel, whoever she might have been. Well, Edgar, I've been meaning to tell you: I don't care—"
Just then Locke burst through the front door. He came to a stop when he saw them, and looked from one to the other in silence. Just then Terra felt suddenly guilty. She realized how this must look to him: she had been sitting comfortably (with Edgar, of all people) while Locke had been scouring the earth for her, worried sick. The look on his face was, of course, his deceptive grin, but in his eyes Terra could see anger and a sense of betrayal. She was at a loss for words.
"Uh, Locke...I—" she started to say.
But he cut her off. "Pierre has been arrested. They're coming to search the house. We have to go," he said coldly.
"Locke, listen…," said Terra as the three of them walked at a quick pace out the back door and into a dark bystreet, carrying nothing so as not to draw attention to themselves.
"Quiet," said Locke. "We don't have time to talk." He led them with determination through the back streets of South Figaro, threading his way through uncrowded byways and benighted alleys, of which he seemed to have an intimate knowledge. Although Terra was sorry that she had made him worry and frustrated by his overreaction, she was frankly relieved that they had found each other again. It felt good to be once again among those who loved her and who knew the way. It put all thoughts of her lingering illness aside.
With Locke in the lead, the three travelers made quick progress away from Pierre's house, which was fortunate, because just before they had turned the first corner and lost sight of it, Terra looked back and saw in the windows a growing number of lights moving about and heard grating male voices barking indistinct orders. Now, however, their pace slowed, for the number of patrols and sentries was rapidly increasing. Locke often had to stop them for several minutes at a time before crossing a lighted street, waiting for a detachment of soldiers to pass by or for a sentry to look the other way. It was slow going, but gradually, with Locke's instinctive stealth, they made their way to the east side of South Figaro.
"Where are we going?" Terra whispered, waiting for the signal to move while Locke looked around a corner into a semi-deserted street.
"We have to get out of the city," he replied. "We're going to a house on the east wall. There's an old woman there who'll help us."
"A Returner?" she asked, more out of a desire to talk to him than curiosity.
"A sympathizer," Locke answered shortly. All this time he never once looked at her, which was partly understandable, given that he had to be constantly on the lookout. Nevertheless it caused Terra pain.
Terra's relief at being back among her friends was tempered by something akin to misery, a dull rhythmic throb of the heart which punctuated her happiness with a growing feeling of separation from them—indeed, from the whole human race. Ever since the discovery of her magical abilities this separation had been growing, and now, though she was with them, it was as if they had not fully been returned to her. She remembered with fondness and a little sadness how she and Locke had wrestled in the sand, but felt that that would now be impossible, and that any attempt at a repetition would be hollow and empty of the happinessthat they'd shared.
By this time the party had reached the east side of the city, and Locke had led them into a dark and narrow alley with high walls on either side. There Locke checked them at a small door, like a servant's door, in the wall. It appeared to be a back way into a large house, the eastward side of which terminated at the giant stone wall which surrounded the city. Locke rapped lightly on the door with strange rhythm. A secret knock, Terra thought.
Almost immediately the door opened. It opened quietly into a darkness broken only by the dimmed lantern of a bent and shrunken figure, which appeared to Terra to be a woman. The woman had opened the door wide enough for them to slip in, which they did, and all the while not a word was spoken. The door closed gently behind them, and they followed the bent figure across a chill and damp room. There was a smell of must and fermentation. The penurious gleam of the lantern made out the outline of enormous casks of wine, like the barrels of giants, with tiny taps in them.
The bent woman led them up out of the cellar by way of a winding servant-stair. It seemed to Terra—for there were no windows—that they climbed about half a dozen storeys before they reached a landing, and half a dozen more by the time they reached a second, where to Terra's relief they passed through a narrow corridor into an attic. Here the old woman unveiled her lantern and set it on a table strewn with neglected trinkets and knickknacks, lit a taper, and went about the cramped room lighting hanging wall lamps. There were paths through the dusty and long disused piles of junk and furniture. Freestanding dressers and wardrobes, full-length mirrors, wicker baskets big enough to sit in, faded paintings, and smaller objects too many to name—all these things were crammed into the slouching room. Cobwebs were woven across the rafters in the ceiling, which slanted down on one side of the attic. On the outward side Terra now perceived an aperture, a small window to the outside which, judging from its imperfect shape, had probably not been an original feature of the house.
When the old woman finished lighting the lamps, she came over and spoke to them, but only in whispers.
Terra judged from her dress that the woman was the owner, not a servant, of the house, and that she must have sent her servants home or to another part of the house. All the while she whispered instructions to them, the old woman fixed her eyes on Edgar, not leeringly but intently. She spoke of secret paths outside the city and the distant Kolts Mountains to the northeast and of other things which they would have to pass through if they were to reach the Returners' Hideout. After she finished, she smiled at Edgar and said, "You look just like him, you know." Immediately Edgar fell silent and grave.
"Thank you, Mrs. Duncan, for all your help," said Locke. But there still remained the problem of escaping from South Figaro. Terra had seen no gate in the east wall before they entered Mrs. Duncan's house. She shivered as the cold night air blew in through the aperture in the attic wall, which she now noticed had a device attached to the top of it. It was a pulley with a length of thick rope running through it, one end tied to a giant basket.
"Why don't you go first, hon'," said Mrs. Duncan to Terra encouragingly. "These strong young men will lower you down."
"Lower me down where?" said Terra, suddenly alarmed.
"Hush, now. Keep your voice down. Don't worry, honey; it's quite safe."
Terra approached the opening and looked down at least sixty feet to the ground, which in the darkness looked even longer. She recoiled from the edge with a sudden fear that the wind would suck her out.
"Are you sure this is safe?" said Terra, looking suspiciously at the wicker basket, which now seemed more flimsy than before.
"Safer than the point of an imperial spear," said Locke, and Terra did not like his tone. There was little kindness in his voice. Terra glared at him in momentary anger, then almost out of defiance lifted the lid of the basket, climbed in, sat down in the spacious hollow, and lowered the lid over head—all in one deft movement. She was still a little cold, but was too angry at Locke to ask for a coat.
Terra could see little through the slats of the basket, only the shadows of her friends moving in the light. She heard the men come to the opening and agree that the coast was clear. Suddenly she felt the basket slide towards the window. Her heart leapt into her throat. But she didn't make a sound; she wouldn't give Locke the satisfaction.
Then she heard the squeaking sound of the pulley above her as they pulled till there was no slack in the rope. Terra heard a sickening sound of the harness tightening. There was a moment's pause, and then with a grunt from the men she was swept off the ground. She had a sensation of flying, as the basket swung back and forth in the gusty night wind, which had no mercy on her already shivering body—the slatted basket offered little protection. Now she really wished she had asked for a something to cover her meager traveling cloak. But even more than the cold, Terra worried about the basket and the height. She knew she was being lowered because the squeaking of the pulley soon faded and was drowned out by the wind whistling viciously through the slats. She swayed back and forth perilously over the invisible abyss. The basket kept bumping into the wall in its descent, swinging and swaying nauseously. It seemed to Terra to take forever for her to reach the ground; every time she thought it must be near she just kept on gently falling and bumping into the wall. By this time she was shivering like a leaf.
Then without warning Terra felt a jarring jolt. The basket had stopped. She was on the ground outside the walls of South Figaro.
