“Where were you going, Your Highness?”
“Nowhere. Just for a walk.” Bane shrugged.
“Not thinking of trying to contact the dwarves on your own, eh?”
“Of course not, Haplo,” Bane said, eyes round. “Grandfather said I was to stay with you. And I always obey Grandfather.”
Haplo noticed the emphasis on the last word, smiled grimly. “Good. Remember, I’m here for your protection, as much as anything. It’s not very safe on this world. Not even if you are a prince. There are those who would kill you just for that alone.”
“I know,” said Bane, looking subdued, somewhat ashamed. “The elves almost killed me last time I was here. I guess I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry, Haplo.” Clear blue eyes gazed upward. “It was very wise of Grandfather to give you to me for a guard. You always obey Grandfather, too, don’t you, Haplo?”
The question caught Haplo by surprise. He glanced swiftly at Bane, wondering what—if anything—the child meant by it. For an instant, Haplo thought he saw a glitter of cunning, sly and malevolent, in the wide blue eyes. But Bane stared at him guilelessly, a child asking a childish question.
Haplo turned away. “I’m going back up front, to keep watch.”
The dog whined, looked pathetically at the sausage, still in Bane’s pocket.
“You didn’t ask me about the leaks,” Bane reminded Haplo.
“Well, were there any?”
“No. You work the magic pretty good. Not as good as Grandfather, but pretty good.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Haplo said, bowed, and walked off.
Bane took the sausage out of his pocket, smacked the dog lightly and playfully on the nose with it. “That’s for giving me away,” he said, in mild reproof.
The dog slavered, regarded the sausage hungrily.
“Still, I guess it was for the best.” Bane frowned. “Haplo’s right. I’d forgotten about those damn bastard elves. I’d like to meet the one who threw me off the ship that time. I’d tell Haplo to throw that elf into the Maelstrom. And I’d watch him fall, all the way down. I’ll bet you could hear him scream a long, long time. Yes, Grandfather was right. I see that now. Haplo will be useful to me, until I can find someone else.
“Here you go.” Bane handed over the sausage. The dog snapped it up, swallowed it in a gulp. Bane petted the silky head fondly. “And then you’ll be mine. You and me and Grandfather. We’ll all live together and we won’t let anyone hurt Grandfather anymore ever. Will we, boy?”
Bane laid his cheek on the dog’s head, cuddled the warm body.
“Will we?”
CHAPTER 9
WOMBE
LOW REALM, ARIANUS
THE GREAT KICKSEY-WINSEY HAD STOPPED.
Nobody on Drevlin knew what to do. Nothing like this had ever happened before in all the history of the Gegs.
As long as the Gegs could remember—and because they were dwarves, that was a long time indeed—the wondrous machine had been at work. It worked and it worked. Feverishly, serenely, frantically, obtusely—it worked. Even when parts of the Kicksey-winsey broke down, it worked; other parts worked to repair those that didn’t. No one was ever quite certain what work the Kicksey-winsey did, but all knew, or at least suspected, that it worked well-But now it had stopped.
The ‘lectriczingers no longer zinged, they hummed—ominously, some thought. The whirly-wheels neither whirled nor wheeled. They held perfectly still, except for a slight quivering. The flashrafts halted, disrupting transportation throughout the Low Realm. The metal hands of the fiashraft that grabbed the overhead cable and—with the help of the ‘lectriczingers— pulled the flashraft along were stilled. Palms open, the metal hands reached futilely out to heaven.
The whistle-toots were silent, except for a sigh that escaped them now and then. The black arrows inside the glass boxes—arrows that must never be allowed to point to red—had
sagged clear down to the bottom half of the boxes and now pointed at nothing.
When it first quit, there had been immediate consternation. Every Geg man, woman, and child—even those off duty, even those involved in the guerrilla action against the Welves—had left his or her post and run to stare at the great—now inactive —machine. There were some who thought that it would start again. The assembled Gegs had waited hopefully… and waited and waited. Scrift-change had come and gone. The marvelous machine had continued to do nothing.