He applied the syringe, frowning. These were morbid and foolish ideas.
But when he lay back and slept, he dreamed for a moment that an eye, scarlet as galaxies, had opened in the wall and looked at him.
FINN WAS desperate; he held the ring high. "Take it and let us
The Eye zoomed in, examined it closely. "Do you believe this object is of some value? "
"It contains a life. Trapped inside."
"How apposite. As all your lives are trapped inside me."
He was shivering. Surely if Keiro was listening, he would act now. If he was here.
Gildas understood. He must have, because he snapped loudly, "Take it! let us go."
"As I took Tribute from Sapphique? As I took this?" In the clotted hide of the Beast a glimmer of light opened; they saw a tiny frail bone, embedded deep.
Gildas murmured a prayer of awe.
"How small it is!" The Beast considered it. "And yet how much pain it cost Let me see this trapped life."
It slid the tendril closer. Finn gripped the ring in his fist, his sweat making it slippery. Then he opened his hand.
At once, the Eye blinked. It widened, contracted, stared around. From the Beast's throat a whisper slid like oil, a puzzled, fascinated demand.
"How did you do that? Where are you?"
A hand clamped over Finn's mouth; as he convulsed around he saw Attia, one finger on her lips in warning. Behind her Keiro stood, the Key held tight in one hand, a flamethrower in the other.
"You are invisible!" The Beast sounded appalled. "This isn't possible!"
A mass of tentacles streamed out from it, groping formations of tiny spiders sticky with thread. Finn stumbled back.
Keiro shouldered the flamethrower. "If you want us," he said calmly, "here we are."
A burst of flame roared across Finn; the Beast howled with rage. In an instant the cavern was an explosion of panicking, screeching birds and bees and bats released from shape and order; they arced and flapped and spiraled high into the cavern roof, beating themselves senselessly against rock.
Keiro whooped with delight. He fired again, a burst of yellow flame, and the Beast was a clattering cascade of fragments, of scorched skin and tumbling rock, its red Eye nothing but a tiny explosion of gnats that split in frenzied fear.
The flames sizzled, hit walls, and rebounded in sudden heat. "Leave it!" Finn yelled. "Let's get out!"
But the roof and floor were tilting, the crack closing around them.
"I may not be able to see you, "the Prison remarked acidly through the uproar, "but you re in here, and I will hold you tight, my son."
Back to back it forced them together, spiraling in, the cave walls falling, slabs of the roof crashing down. Finn grabbed for Attia's hand in the chaos. "Stay together!"
"Finn." Gildas's voice was choked. "In the wall. Up there."
For a moment Finn had no idea what he meant; then he saw it. A fissure sloping up.
Instantly Attia pulled herself free. She ran and leaped; catching at the jutting facets, she dragged herself above the whipping tentacles, climbing the very scales of the Beast itself.
He shoved Gildas after her; the old man clambered awkwardly but with desperate vigor, lumps of stone and gems rolling and sliding under his hands.
Finn turned.
Keiro had the weapon ready. "Go on! It's searching for us!"
Incarceron was blinded. He saw how parts of the Beast reformed, a claw, a tail, how it groped and lashed in the darkness. It felt them on its skin, sensed the vibrations of their movement. He wanted to ask Keiro how he had done this, but there was no time, so he turned and scrambled after Gildas, Minute by minute the wall was changing, re-forming and rippling, tilting itself straighter as if the Beast reared up, twisting itself around to tear them from its back. High into the cavernous spaces it took them, hanging on, and as Finn stared up he saw cracks of light up there, pinpricks of brilliance, and for a giddy moment he was among the stars, and then one swiveled over him and it was a searchlight, silvering his hands and face as he gasped, helplessly exposed.
Attia turned, her face a blur. "Slow down! We have to stay near the Key!"
Keiro was climbing far below, the flamethrower cast aside. As the ridged hide rippled he slipped, one foot scraping into space, and maybe the Beast felt that, because it hissed, and the air steamed with sudden fumes.
"Keiro!" Finn turned. "I'll have to go back for him."
Attia squirmed down. "No. He can manage."
Keiro clung right. He pulled himself back; the Beast quivered. Then it laughed, that sinister chuckle Finn remembered so well. "So you have some device to mask yourselves with. I congratulate you. But I certainly intend to discover what it is."
Dust fell; a shaft of light. "Wait!" Finn yelled at Gildas; breathlessly the old man shook his head.
"I can't hang on anymore."
"You can!"
He gave Attia a desperate look; she hauled Gildas's arm over her shoulders and said', "I'll stay with him."
He almost fell down to where Keiro hung, grabbed him with one hand and clung to him.
"It's useless! There's no way out."
"There has to be," Keiro gasped. "Don't we have a Key?"
He wriggled it out and Finn's hand caught it; for a moment they were both holding it. Then
Finn snatched it and held it away. He pressed every button, jabbed at the eagle, its sphere, its crown. Nothing. As the Beast lashed under them he shook the Key, swore at it, and felt the warmth of it grow suddenly in his hands, overheating with an ominous whine. With a yelp he juggled it; it burned him.
"Use it!" Keiro yelled. "Melt the rock!"
Finn clamped the Key to the cave side. Instantly it hummed and clicked.
Incarceron screamed. A howl of anguish. Rocks clattered down, Atria shouted from above. As Finn stared, a great white slit unzipped in the wall like a rip in the fabric of the world.
THE WARDEN stood with Claudia at the window and looked down on the torchlit revelry.
"You did well," he said gravely. "The Queen is pleased."
"Good." Claudia was so tired, she could barely think.
"Tomorrow, perhaps we ... He stopped.
A shrill, urgent bleep. Insistent and loud. Startled, Claudia stared around. "What's that?"
Her father stood very still. Then he reached into his waistcoat pocket and took out his watch, and with a click of his thumb, sprang the gold case open. She saw the handsome dial, the time. Quarter to eleven.
But this was no chime. It was an alarm.
The Warden stared. When he looked up, his eyes were cold and gray. "I have to go. Good night, Claudia. Sleep well."
Astonished, she watched him stride to the door. "Is it ... is it the Prison?" she said.
He turned, his gaze sharp. "What makes you say that?"
"The alarm .. , I've never heard it before ..."
He was watching her. She cursed herself. Then he said, "Yes. There seems to be an incident. Don't worry. I'll see to it personally."
The doors closed after him.
For a moment she stayed there, frozen. She stared at the wooden panels; then, as if the stillness galvanized her into action, she grabbed a dark shawl, wrapped it around herself, and flung herself at the door, opening it quickly.
He was well down the gilt corridor, walking fast. As soon as he rounded the corner, she ran after him, breathless, silent on the soft carpets. Her image flickered in dim mirrors.