Lief twisted and kicked at the third Ra-Kachar, feeling his foot connect with the leg just above the boot. The man howled and stumbled. Lief snatched up the frying pan and felled him with a single blow.
Panting above the bodies of their fallen enemies, the friends glanced over to where Jasmine stood, crooning to Filli.
“Filli saved us,” Jasmine said happily. “How brave he is! He was lost, but he heard my voice and came running to me. Poor Filli. He has been so afraid, and in such danger!”
“He has been afraid and in danger!” exploded Barda. “And what of us?”
But Jasmine simply shrugged and went back to stroking Filli’s fur.
“What are we to do now?” muttered Lief. “There are four Ra-Kacharz here, counting Reece. And we know that there are two in the kitchens. But three of the Nine are still missing. Where are they? Where should we go for safety?”
“We must take our chances with the tunnel,” said Barda grimly, looking around for his sword. “There is no other way out for us.”
Lief glanced at the Hole. “Reece thought that whatever is in there would kill us,” he said.
“If the Ra-Kacharz can survive it, so can we,” snapped Barda. “They are strong, and good fighters, but they do not have magic powers.”
“We should put on their garments,” said Jasmine from her place by the wall. “Surely it is not by chance that they dress differently from the others in this place, and it is only they who can use the Hole. Perhaps the creature that dwells in the darkness is trained to attack all colors but red.”
Barda nodded slowly. “It could be. In any case, to wear the Ra-Kacharz garments is a good idea,” he said. “Our own clothes mark us as strangers. We could never bluff our way out of the city through the front entrance. But perhaps the back way …”
They wasted no more time, but began to strip the three Ra-Kacharz they had just defeated. Jasmine was quick and deft at the work. Lief could not help remembering, with a chill, how many times she had stripped the bodies of Grey Guards in the Forests of Silence. She had done it to obtain clothes and other things she needed, and she had done it efficiently and without a moment’s pity, as she was doing now.
They dressed quickly, pulling the red garments over their own clothes, the boots over their own shoes. The Ra-Kacharz lay still. Tight white underclothes covered them from wrist to ankle. Their heads, like those of the other people in the city, were shaved bald.
“They do not look so dangerous now,” said Jasmine grimly, winding red cloth around her head and making sure that Filli was buttoned securely under the collar of her clothes.
Despite his haste and worry, Lief had to smile as he glanced at her. She looked very strange. The Ra-Kacharz garments were too big for him and even for Barda, but on Jasmine they hung in vast, baggy folds. The gloves were not a problem, for they were made of a clinging material that fitted all sizes. But he doubted that she would be able to walk in the huge red boots.
Jasmine had thought of that. Carrying the boots in her hand, she ran over to where Reece lay. She pulled off his gloves, crumpled them, and stuffed them into the toe of one boot. Then she unwound the cloth that bound his head and face and used it in the second boot.
Reece mumbled, his shaven head rolling on the hard floor.
“He is waking,” Jasmine said, pulling on the boots. She drew the dagger from her belt.
“Do not kill him!” exclaimed Lief in panic.
Jasmine glanced at him in surprise. “Why not?” she demanded. “He would kill me, if our places were reversed. And when he was attacking you, you would have killed him, if you could.”
Lief could not explain. He knew she would never agree that to kill in the heat of the moment, in defense of your life, was very different from killing a man, even an enemy, in cold blood.
But Barda had suddenly exclaimed, striding to Jasmine’s side. He crouched beside Reece’s body. “Look at this!” he muttered, pushing the man’s head to one side.
Lief knelt beside him. On the side of Reece’s neck was the ugly scar of an old burn. The scar was in a shape he knew only too well.
“He has been branded,” he hissed, looking at the dull red mark with horror. “Branded with the mark of the Shadow Lord. Yet he lives here, free and powerful. What does this mean?”
“It means that things in Noradz are not what they seem,” said Barda grimly. Quickly he moved to the bodies of the other Ra-Kacharz. The Shadow Lord’s brand was on every one.
They looked up sharply as the handle of the door that led into the kitchen shook and rattled. There was a loud knock. Someone was trying to get in.
“Another inspection must have been completed,” muttered Jasmine. “The cooks have a bin of food to throw away.”
Finding that their way was barred, the people behind the door began shouting and thumping with their fists. Reece mumbled and groaned. His eyelids fluttered. He was about to wake.
Barda sprang to his feet. “We will take him with us. We will force him to tell us how to save ourselves from whatever is inside the passage. And, in any case, a hostage will be useful.”
Hastily they pulled their packs onto their backs and dragged Reece to the Hole entrance. They pushed him into the darkness. Then, one by one, they crawled after him. There was no time, now, to think of what might await them below.
Lief slithered cautiously down the slope, holding Reece’s ankles with one gloved hand, and with the other catching at the sides and roof of the passage to stop himself from moving too quickly. It was not easy, for the rock was covered with a thin layer of fungus that slipped and smeared under his fingers. Gradually the passage narrowed until it was just wide enough for one of the big bins to move through without sticking.
Lief’s pack kept catching on the roof. With a shout of warning to Barda, who was behind him, he wriggled till the straps slipped from his shoulders, and let himself slide away from underneath the bag. He knew that it would keep moving after him. The slope had become steeper, and it was all he could do to stop himself from slipping down out of control.
Other things had changed, too. The growling was louder, a ceaseless rumbling that seemed to fill Lief’s ears and his mind. It was harder to hold Reece, who was still not quite awake, but was starting to move his legs, to catch at the walls with his hands, and to raise his head so that now and then it grazed the roof of the tunnel.
And there was light below — a faint glow, too yellow to be moonlight. It quickly grew brighter and Lief realized that he was reaching the bottom of the slope, that the passage was about to level out.
“Be ready!” he shouted to Barda and Jasmine. And almost at the same moment, without warning, Reece’s body began to writhe and twist. He shrieked and kicked. His ankles slipped from Lief’s grasp and he slid away, downward towards the light. Gasping with shock, Lief saw his jerking body reach the bottom of the slope.
But it did not stop. Somehow, it kept moving.
Thinking of nothing but keeping his enemy in sight, Lief let go of the walls and let himself slide down the last part of the slope. In moments he had reached level ground.
Ahead of him the passage broadened. Light glowed softly from the roof. The rumbling sound was all about him. The ground beneath him was no longer the smooth, hard rock of the tunnel, but something softer, lumpier — something that trembled slightly under his hands … and that moved! Like Reece, he was being carried on — and the ground itself was carrying him!
The red-clad figure was crawling a little further ahead. Lief picked himself up and ran towards it, covering the distance in seconds. He jumped for the writhing man, wrestling with him, trying to hold him still.