Well, that could wait. Wait until he came back out of the Labyrinth... You must get the machine working. Then the citadels will begin to shine. The durnai will awaken. When all that happens—if all that happens—the Labyrinth will start to change. Better for you. Better for them.
“Oh, what do you know, old man?” Haplo muttered. “Just another crazy Sartan...”
7
Bane had studied Haplo closely for several moments after his greeting, noted that the man was paying more attention to inward musings than outward influences. Excellent, the child thought and dashed on ahead. It doesn’t matter if Haplo sees me now. Probably wouldn’t have mattered if he’d noticed me watching him earlier. Adults have a tendency to overlook the presence of a child, to treat a child as if it were a dumb animal and could not possibly understand what was going on, what was being said. Bane had discovered this tendency early in his short life, had fi used it often to his own advantage. But Bane had learned to be careful around Haplo. Although Bane despised the man, as he despised nearly every I adult, the child had been forced to concede Haplo grudging respect. He wasn’t as stupid as most adults. Therefore, Bane had taken extra precautions. But now the need for caution was ended, the need for haste urgent.
Bane ran through the forest, nearly knocking over a Patryn, lounging along the path, who gazed after the child with eyes that glinted red in the twilight. Reaching the lord’s house, Bane hurled open the door and dashed into the study. The lord was not there.
For an instant, Bane panicked. Xar had left for Abarrach already! Then he paused a moment to catch his breath, consider.
No, that couldn’t be possible. The lord had not given Bane final instructions, nor said good-bye. Bane breathed easier and, his head clear, he knew where he would find his adopted “grandfather.”
Proceeding through the large house, Bane walked out a door at the back, emerged onto a broad expanse of smooth green lawn. A ship, covered with runes, stood in the lawn’s center. Haplo would have recognized the ship—it was similar in almost every detail to the one he’d flown through Death’s Gate to Arianus. Limbeck, the Geg on Arianus, would have recognized the ship, for it was similar to the vessel he had discovered wrecked on one of the isles of Drevlin in Arianus.[15] The ship was perfectly round and had been wrought of metal and of magic. The outside hull was covered with sigla that wrapped the ship’s interior in a sphere of protective power. The ship’s hatch stood open, bright light streamed out. Bane saw a figure moving within.
“Grandfather!” the child shouted, and ran toward the ship. The Lord of the Nexus paused in whatever it was he was doing, glanced out the hatch. Bane couldn’t see the lord’s face, silhouetted against the bright light, but the child knew by the rigidity of the stance and the slight hunching of the shoulders that Xar was irritated at the interruption.
“I will be in presently, child,” Xar told him, going back to his duties, disappearing into the depths of the ship. “Return to your lessons—”
“Grandfather! I followed Haplo!” The child gasped for breath. “He was going to enter the Labyrinth, only he met a Sartan who talked him out of it.” Silence within the ship, all movement had ceased. Bane hung onto the doors of the hatch, sucking in great quantities of breath, excitement and lack of oxygen combining to make him light-headed. Xar came back, a figure of darkness against the bright interior light.
“What are you talking about, child?” Xar’s voice was gentle, soft. “Calm down. Don’t get yourself so worked up.”
The lord’s hand, callused, hard, stroked Bane’s golden curls, damp with sweat.
“I was... afraid you would leave... without hearing ...” Bane gulped air.
“No, no, child. I am making last-minute adjustments, seeing to the placement of the steering stone. Come, what is this about Haplo?” Xar’s voice was mild, but the eyes were hard and chill.
Bane wasn’t frightened by the cold. The ice was meant to burn another.
“I followed Haplo, just to see where he was going. I told you he didn’t love you, Grandfather. He wandered around the forest a long time, looking for someone. He kept talking to that dog of his about serpents. Then he went into the city. He almost got into a fight.” Bane’s eyes were round, awed.
“Haplo?” The lord sounded disbelieving.
“You can ask anyone. Everyone saw.” Bane was not above slight exaggeration. “A woman said he had some sort of sickness. She offered to help him, but he shoved her away and stalked off. I saw his face. It wasn’t nice.”
“Labyrinth sickness,” Xar said, his expression softened. “It happens to us all—”
Bane understood that he’d made a mistake in mentioning the sickness, given his enemy a way out. The child hastened to shut off that escape route.
“Haplo went to the Final Gate. I didn’t like that, Grandfather. What reason did he have to go there? You told him he was to take me to Arianus. He should have been back at his ship, getting it ready to go. Shouldn’t he?” Xar’s eyes narrowed, but he shrugged. “He has time. The Final Gate draws many back to it. You would not understand, child—”
“He was going to go inside, Grandfather!” Bane insisted. “I know. And that would have been defying you, wouldn’t it? You don’t want him to go inside, do you? You want him to take me to Arianus.”
“How do you know he was going inside, child?” Xar asked, voice soft, tone dangerous.
“Because the Sartan told him he was. And Haplo didn’t say he wasn’t!” Bane said triumphantly.
“What Sartan? A Sartan in the Nexus?” Xar almost laughed. “You must have been dreaming. Or making this up. Are you making this up, Bane?” The lord said the last sternly, stared at Bane intently.
“I’m telling you the truth. Grandfather,” Bane averred solemnly. “A Sartan appeared out of nowhere. He was an old man with gray robes and an old, stupid-looking hat—”
“Was his name Alfred?” Xar interrupted, frowning.
“Oh, no! I know Alfred, remember, Grandfather? This wasn’t him. Haplo called this man ‘Zifnab.’ He said that Haplo was going into the Labyrinth to look for Alfred and Haplo agreed. At least he didn’t disagree. Then the old man told Haplo that going into the Labyrinth alone was a mistake, that Haplo would never reach Alfred alive. And Haplo said he had to reach Alfred alive, because he was going to take Alfred to the Chamber of the Damned on Abarrach and prove you wrong, Grandfather.”
“Prove me wrong,” Xar repeated.
“That’s what Haplo said.” Bane did not allow himself to be inconvenienced by the truth. “He was going to prove you wrong.”
Xar shook his head slowly. “You must have been mistaken, child. If Haplo had discovered a Sartan in the Nexus, he would have brought the enemy to me.”
“I would have brought the old man to you, Grandfather,” said Bane. “Haplo could have, but he didn’t.” No mention of the dragon. “He warned the Sartan to leave quickly, because you might be coming.”
Xar’s breath hissed through clenched teeth, the gnarled hand that had been stroking Bane’s curls jerked spasmodically, accidentally pulling the child’s hair. Bane winced from the pain, inwardly reveled in it. He guessed that Xar was hurting far worse than Bane himself and that Haplo would be the one to suffer for it.
Xar suddenly grasped hold of Bane’s hair, jerked his head back, forced the blue eyes to meet Xar’s black ones. The lord held the child in his daunting gaze long, searching, penetrating to the bottom of Bane’s soul—not a very far drop.
Bane looked back unblinking, unflinching in Xar’s rough grip. Xar knew Bane for what he was—a skilled and cunning liar—and Bane knew Xar knew. The child had floated enough truth on the surface to conceal the lies beneath. And, with that uncanny insight into adults gained from long and lonely hours when he had nothing to do except study them, Bane guessed that Xar would be too hurt by Haplo’s betrayal to probe deeper.
15