“Follow it,” said Haplo unnecessarily, for Bane and Limbeck and the dog were already clambering down the steps.
Only Jarre lingered behind, face pale and solemn, her hands kneading and twisting a tiny fold of her skirt.
“It’s so sad,” she said.
“I know,” Haplo replied quietly.
CHAPTER 14
WOMBE, DREVLIN LOW REALM
LIMBECK CAME TO A HALT AT THE FOOT OF THE STAIRS. “NOW what?”
A veritable honeycomb of tunnels branched off from the one in which they were standing, lit by the blue runes on the floor. The sigla advanced no farther, almost as if waiting for instructions.
“Which way do we go?”
The dwarf spoke in a whisper, they alt spoke in whispers, though there was no reason why they shouldn’t have talked out loud. The silence loomed over them, strict and stern, prohibiting speech. Even whispering made them feel uneasy, guilty.
“The time we were here, the blue lights led us to the mausoleum,” said Jarre. “I don’t want to go back there again.”
Neither did Haplo. “Do you remember where that was?”
Jarre, holding fast to Haplo’s hand, as she had once held fast to Alfred’s, shut her eyes and thought. “I think it was the third one to the right.” She pointed.
At that instant, the sigla flared and branched off in that direction. Jarre gasped and crowded closer to Haplo, hanging on to him with both hands.
“Wow!” Bane whistled softly.
“Thoughts,” said Haplo, recalling something Alfred had told him when they were running for their lives through the tunnels in Abarrach. “Thoughts can affect the runes. Think of where we want to go and the magic will lead us there.”
“But how can we think of it when we don’t know what it is?” Bane argued.
Haplo rubbed his itching, burning hand against his trouser leg, forced himself to remain patient, calm. “You and my lord must have talked about how the machine’s central control would work, Your Highness. What do you think it’s like?”
Bane paused to consider the matter. “I showed Grandfather the pictures I’d made of the Kicksey-winsey. He noticed how all the machine’s parts look like parts of our own bodies or the bodies of animals. The gold hands and arms of the Liftalofts, the whistles made in the shape of mouths, the claws like bird feet that dig up the coralite. And so the controls must be—”
“A brain!” guessed Limbeck eagerly.
“No.” Bane was smug- “That’s what Grandfather said, but I said that if the machine had a brain it would know what to do, which it obviously doesn’t, since it’s not doing it. Aligning the islands, I mean. If it had a brain, it would do that on its own. It’s working, but without purpose. What I think we’re looking for is the heart.”
“And what did Grandfather say to that?” Haplo was skeptical.
“He agreed with me,” Bane replied, loftily superior.
“We’re supposed to think about hearts?” Limbeck asked.
“It’s worth a shot.” Haplo frowned, scratched his hand. “At least it’s better than standing around here. We can’t afford to waste any more time.”
He set his mind to thinking about a heart, a gigantic heart, a heart pumping life to a body that has no mind to direct it. The more he considered it, the more the notion made sense, though he would never admit as much to Bane. And it fit in with the Patryn’s own theory, too.
“The lights are going out!” Jarre clutched Haplo’s hand, fingers digging into his skin.
“Concentrate!” he snapped.
The sigla that had lit the hallway to the right flickered, dimmed, and died. They all waited, breathlessly, thinking about hearts, all now acutely conscious of the beating of their own hearts, which sounded loud in their ears.
Light glimmered to their left. Haplo held his breath, willing the runes to come to life. The sigla burned stronger, brighter, lighting their way in a direction opposite that of the mausoleum.
Bane shouted in triumph. His shout bounded back to him, but the voice didn’t sound human anymore. It sounded hollow, empty, reminded Haplo unpleasantly of the echoing voice of the dead, the lazar on Abarrach. The glowing sigla on Haplo’s skin flashed suddenly, their light becoming more intense.