“He’s right,” agreed Bane. “We must—”
The dog began to growl, then gave its warning bark. Haplo glanced down at his hand and arm, saw the sigla glowing brighter.
“Someone’s coming. Probably discovered the hole in the statue.”
“But how? There weren’t any elves up there!”
“I don’t know,” Haplo said grimly. “Either your diversion didn’t work or they were tipped off. It doesn’t matter now. We’ve got to clear out of here, fast!”
Bane glared at him, defiant. “That’s stupid. You’re being stupid. How can the elves find us? The runes went dark. We’ll just hide in this room—”
The kid’s right, Haplo thought. I am being stupid. What am I afraid of? We could shut the door, hide in here. The elves could search these tunnels for years, never find us.
He opened his mouth to give the order, but the words wouldn’t come. He’d lived this long relying on his instincts. His instincts told him to get away.
“Do as you’re told, Your Highness.” Haplo took hold of Bane, started dragging the squirming boy toward the door.
“Look at that.” The Patryn thrust his brightly glowing hand underneath the child’s nose. “I don’t know how they know we’re down here but, believe me, they know. They’re looking for us. And if we stay in this room, this is where they’ll find us. Here… with the automaton. You want that? Would Grandfather want that?”
Bane glared at Haplo; the hatred in the child’s eyes gleamed bare and cold, like a drawn blade. The intensity of his hate and the malevolence accompanying it appalled Haplo, momentarily disrupted his thinking. His hand loosened its grasp.
Bane jerked himself free of Haplo’s grip. “You’re so stupid,” he said softly, lethally. “I’ll show you just how stupid you are!” Turning, he shoved Jarre aside, ran out the door and into the hallway.
“After him!” Haplo ordered the dog, who dashed off obediently.
Limbeck took off his spectacles, was gazing wistfully at the automaton. Unmoved, it remained standing in the center of the room.
“I still don’t understand …” Limbeck began.
“I’ll explain later!” Haplo said in exasperation.
Jarre took over. Grabbing hold of the august leader of WUPP, much as she used to do, she hustled Limbeck out of the room and into the hall.
“What are my instructions?” the automaton asked.
“Shut the door,” Haplo growled, relieved to be away from the metal corpse.
Out in the hallway, he paused to get his bearings. He could hear Bane’s pounding footsteps running up the tunnel, back the way they’d come. The Patryn sigil Haplo had scratched above the arch shone with a flickering bluish green light. At least Bane had had sense enough to run off in the right direction, although that was likely going to take him right into the arms of their pursuers.
He wondered what the fool kid had in mind. Anything to make trouble, Haplo supposed. Not that it mattered. He’s a mensch, so are the elves. I can handle them easily. They’ll never know what hit them.
Then why are you afraid, so afraid you can barely think for the fear?
“Beats the hell out of me,” Haplo answered himself. He turned to Limbeck and Jarre. “I’ve got to stop His Highness. You two keep up with me as best you can, get as far away from this room as possible. That”—he pointed at the burning Patryn symbol—”won’t last long. If the elves catch Bane, keep out of sight. Let me do the fighting. Don’t try to be heroes.”
With that, he ran down the hallway.
“We’ll be right behind you!” Jarre promised, and turned to find Limbeck.
He had removed his spectacles, was staring myopically at the door that had shut behind him.
“Limbeck, come on!” she ordered.
“What if we never find it again?” he said plaintively.
“I hope we don’t!” was on the tip of Jarre’s tongue, but she swallowed her words. Taking hold of his hand—something she realized she had not done in a long while—she tugged at
him urgently. “We have to leave, my dear. Haplo’s right. We can’t let them find it.”
Limbeck heaved a great sigh. Putting on his spectacles, he planted himself in front of the door, folded his arms across his broad chest.