Estcarp Cycle 05 – Sorceress Of The Witch World by Andre Norton

At last I huddled at the tip of another transport to watch the workers. Two of them clung to a webbing draped on either side of the door they were attacking. They hung there, watching the efforts of two more at floor level, aiming up at the metal beams of light which struck, to spray out, eating slowly into its substance.

I made the mistake of again looking at the light and so was blinded momentarily. I shrank back and waited for my sight to clear. A glimpse of those working to force the entrance had been enough to make me think they were not the same breed of half-things as I had seen above. They all appeared to have normal bodies, legs and arms.

Now I peered between my fingers, using them to shield against the glare. Was it fire they used as a tool, I wondered, or a force of light with the strength of fire? Fire I could and had summoned to answer my will, for it is a thing of nature and so must come at the call of a Wise Woman. But this was a different thing, for the beam issued from a pipe these workers held in their hands, and the pipe was connected by a limber hose to a box sitting on the floor between them.

The fire suddenly died, and now those on the webs swung closer. They smashed bars against the glowing opening, prying and working at the metal now softened a little.

But I no longer watched them. One of those who had held the pipe laid down the strange weapon and went to a pile of packs. He picked up a small container which, he held to his mouth—drinking!

Water!

At that moment all the wealth of knowledge could have been mine for the taking and I would have passed it by for what the stranger held. What I was going to get!

He put down the container and went back to the pipe. As he raised that, ready to shoot the beam again, I moved, running along the side of the transport which sheltered me from their eyes. They were so intent upon what they did, though working openly as if they need have no fear of any inimical onlooker, that I did not believe I was in any danger then.

My world, my future, narrowed to that container. I made my way toward it, sparing only a short, searching glance now and then at the workers, to be sure none came my way. But they were engaged once more in burning, their attention all for the stubborn metal. My band closed upon the container and I raised it to my lips.

It was not pure water, unless water in this world had a sour taste. But it was so refreshing to my cracked lips, parched mouth, and dry throat, that I had to fight myself not to swallow more than a few sips.

There was a cry from the working party and I turned in fear, sure they had sighted me. I discovered instead that the door had given away and those on the webs were kicking it loose.

I fumbled through the packs they had stacked here. There were some packets which might contain food and two of those I took. But I could carry no more for I had chanced upon three more of the water containers, by their weight nearly full.

Slinging two carrying straps over my shoulders, clasping the third tightly to me with the packets, I faded back into the shadows, intent now on reaching Ayllia. We were in a good position by the door to watch these workers when they withdrew. If they were of our own kind, earlier victims of the gate, we could then claim meeting. Having drunk, my caution returned and I was not minded to surrender to any who prowled this world until I was sure it was not the enemy.

When I gained the entrance to the cavern there was no Ayllia. I dare not risk calling: my voice might carry back to the working party. And, burdened as I now was with the food and water I carried, I was not sure I could regain the upper level of the balcony.

At last I was forced to return to the ladder, reclimb into the fumes to unhook it, and drop in a jarring fall to the floor. Ayllia still did not show and I worked as fast as I could lest those beyond miss their water ration and trail me. There was a hook at the end of the ladder and I whirled a length around my head, let it fly, so it caught on the railing of the balcony. With this anchored I was able to climb, draw after me the containers I had made fast to the lower end.

Equipped with supplies, I sped down the short space to the well, but saw no sign of Ayllia. I hung over to peer down to the bottom of the shaft. She was not there either. But I was almost certain she had gone this way.

As my boots rapped against the floor of the shaft I looked around for the pack which had fallen ahead of us. There were many marks on the pavement, the gritty dust of these lower levels stirred and scuffed—more than could result from just our coming and going. The working party, had they come this way? I had not noticed too much on our entrance, but now I studied each foot of the way with care as I retraced the passage to where it gave upon the road entering the base of the tower.

I was now away from that sound or vibration which made floors and walls sing faintly off the upper levels, so I heard a sound ahead. Not the warning roar of the arrival of a transport, but a cry which I thought must be human. And I was greatly tempted to call out to Ayllia, save that suspicion warned me she might be in some danger which it was better not to walk into blindly.

As I started down the dusty passage leading to the entrance I thought I saw movement ahead. I slowed, listened. If something or someone was coming toward me perhaps I would have to retreat, but if it went the other way I could follow.

Then in a small pool of glimmer I saw Ayllia. She was being dragged along by two figures shorter than she, creatures I could not see clearly. As I watched one of them dealt her a vicious blow across the shoulders which sent her staggering on. And they straightaway closed in on her again. She kept her feet but she went as one who was either only semiconscious or completely cowed, offering no resistance.

They were very close to the road tunnel and a moment or two later they were gone into it. I started to run, the heavy water bottles inflicting bruises as they banged my ribs, battering me as that blow had done for Ayllia.

At the tunnel I hesitated once more. Not only did I listen for the roar which would precede one of the transports, but I was undecided as to which way Ayllia and her captors had gone. Deeper into the towerways, or out into the country?

Though I listened and peered, I could find no clue. But at last I decided that it would be out. I hardly thought that those who inhabited the city would, by choice, take the dangerous road here. It was more likely to be the way of some invader.

Yet I was plagued as I began backtracking with the fear that my logical reasoning was at fault, that instead of following Ayllia I was heading in the opposite direction.

It was not until I was safely off that narrow footway and out in the night that I had confirmation as to the wisdom of my reasoning. That came when my foot struck against an object in the dark and sent it spinning into a shaft of moonlight—for I had not emerged into the blackness of complete dark but into a silvered world where a moon hung full and very bright.

What I had kicked into view was a packet I knew well, seeing as how I had made it up with my own hands, some of Utta’s healing herbs tied into a small sack. That had not fallen from my pack when we had entered this place because, until I had opened it to share the food with Ayllia, the carrier had been well tied. Therefore, someone had opened the pack hereabouts and dropped this.

I went to one knee and felt around. If anything else had been dropped, I did not find it. I could only believe that those who had taken Ayllia also had the pack, had opened it for inspection and lost this.

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