An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (57 page)

“What could it hurt anyhow?” Loma said gruffly, shaking shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. “Let the old man go inside and talk to the prisoner.”

“Interrogate,” Yosef corrected politely. The guards scowled at him.

“You’re interrogating the prisoner for the Mashiah?” El asked.

“Yes. You see he thinks that perhaps this man has information on the …” Yosef tried to remember the term he’d heard in the hall that night. “The Beliels.” Then, more creatively, “Adom has felt the mounting of evil power. He
must
find out what this man knows. But, as I’m sure you’re aware, he’s very busy. As a result, I’m here in his stead.”

El’s ruddy face paled, freckles standing out starkly. “I told the Councilman,” he whispered confidentially to no one in particular. “I told him the prisoner wasn’t making that up.”

“Don’t start in again, El,” the sergeant chastised. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Um?” the captain grunted, lost in some frightening inner world. His face had gone grim. “Oh, yes … I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll have to search you.”

“That’s fine, Captain. I expected as much.” Yosef lifted his arms and spread his legs, waiting patiently. The captain knelt to pat him down thoroughly, then stood again.

“You take as long as you need, Mister Calas. Do you want one of us in there with you,” he asked hopefully.

“I’m sorry, but this is confidential. You understand.”

“Sure. The Beliels are serious business, I know that. Well, we’ll be right out here. Just holler if you need us and we’ll come running.”

Yosef smiled in gratitude, nodding. “Thank you, Captain.”

El gestured for the sergeant to help him. Together, the two guards lifted the heavy bar over the door and set it against the wall.

“Go on, Mister Calas.”

He waddled forward, twisting the knob and opening the door just enough to squeeze through. Once inside, he pushed it closed and fell against the wall, panting. Sweat poured like rain down his chest and sides. Looking to his right, he saw Jeremiel standing stiffly before a crackling fire, a startled look on his face.

Yosef s heart went out to him. Beneath his torn black jumpsuit, his biceps and pectorals bore shocking bruises and abrasions. But his skull had endured the worst injuries. The entire left side of his head had swollen to form a massive knot.

“Yosef?”

“Hurry, son. This isn’t going to be easy.”

Jeremiel strode toward him and Yosef saw the deep gashes left in his wrists by the cutting shackles. A small pain pierced him. For the protector of Gamant civilization to be treated so on a Gamant planet seemed beyond belief. He pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around Jeremiers waist, embracing him tightly. Jeremiel pounded his back warmly, then shoved back to stare.

“Yosef, what the hell are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s sit down for a few minutes.” Taking Baruch’s arm, Yosef led him back to the table beside the warm hearth and helped him sit down in the chair. Though the man didn’t feel frail, it made Yosef feel better to show his concern in this paternal way.

Dropping to the other chair, he asked, “Are you all right, son?”

Jeremiel blinked in disbelief at the question. “Not particularly, but as well as can be expected given the circumstances.
Yosef, what are you doing here?”

“I came to break you out. Ornias and Adom are in consultation and it seemed the perfect time.”

“To break me out?
Don’t be crazy, there’s no way you can do that.” He thrust out an arm to point at the door. “How many guards are in the hall at this very minute?”

“Three. That makes us even, but I’m afraid they might be sticky. Getting in was easy, but walking out with you at my side will probably be tougher.”

“Probably?
Have you lost your mind? I assure you, they won’t just let me traipse out of here.”

“But I’m afraid we’ll have to try, Jeremiel. You see, Ornias has recently shifted the locations in the caves—or so the palace servants’ rumors say—so the regiment that used to be guarding this side of the palace has been temporarily reassigned to the parapet. But I don’t think that will last for long. As soon as a trained regiment is ready to—”

“I get the idea,” Jeremiel breathed, leaning back in his chair and thoughtfully caressing his beard. His gaze wandered over the high ceiling and down the gray stone walls, resting painfully on the shackles attached to the pillar in the center of the bare room. He massaged a wrist reflexively. “Well, small talk aside, I have some questions. How do you plan on getting me out?”

“Ari’s waiting in the hall with a gun. He—”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Jeremiel murmured tightly. “Funk is armed? Pray he doesn’t shoot one of us when we make our break.”

Yosef nodded. “I reminded him I was the one in lavender. Not certain what you’d be wearing I couldn’t cue him on that one.”

“I’ll wave my arms expressively.” Jeremiel nervously drummed his fingers on the tabletop. In the flickers of firelight, the bruises on his face glowed a mottled blue and purple. “If we survive the guards and Funk, is there a way to get out of the palace? To the streets of Seir?”

“I don’t know if it’ll work, but Ari appropriated a large guard’s uniform from the storehouse near the women’s bath downstairs—the same place he got the gun. We thought you might need it.”

“Yes, it might work.” He vigorously rubbed the back of his neck. “Especially if Ornias is shifting personnel around. I might be able to blend in with a flow going outside into the city. But I’ll need a place to hide in the meantime.”

“Oh,” Yosef waved a hand. “There are plenty of places in the palace to hide. Both above and below ground, the area is honeycombed with secret passageways.”

“Yes, I know … But how do
you
know?”

“We’ve been exploring for the past several weeks. There are a large number, as a matter of fact, leading from the women’s quarters to the food storerooms. We figured maybe in the past the women stole food or something.”

“Makes sense. But you haven’t located any tunnels connecting the palace to the underground cave system that leads into the desert?”

Yosef shook his head. “No. We didn’t know there was such a system.”

“Not many do, thank God. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a connection either. I’ll have to go back and thoroughly search the doc room. There must be one.”

“Do you want us to look? We might—”

“No, don’t waste your time. I have to get back to the caves of the Desert Fathers immediately. If I don’t make it in five days, it won’t matter.”

Yosef frowned, his heart thumping suddenly, as though his body knew something his mind didn’t yet grasp. “Who?”

“A secret religious sect located in the desert regions. They’ve been here on Horeb for millennia.”

“Yes, of course. I remember Zadok mentioning them. They’re monks, aren’t they? Following the old ways of chastity and purity?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, years ago, Zadok mentioned he had spies amongst them.” He chuckled. “Men who complained heartily about the privations they were forced to endure.”

Jeremiel leaned across the table.
“Who?
Do you remember any names?”

Yosef searched his memory, feeling awkward. He didn’t recall things too well anymore and it always pained him to be reminded of it. “No, Jeremiel. I remember only that he mentioned one of his latest recruits had been recently widowed, his wife and child killed in a freak accident.”

Water filled Baruch’s eyes, but not in sorrow, Yosef could tell. A flush of adrenaline?

“Dear God,” Jeremiel whispered. “I’ve been wrong all along.” In a violent gesture, he slammed a fist into the table. “How could I have been so blind?”

“About what?”

“Never mind,” he said hurriedly. “What else do you remember, Yosef? Tell me anything that comes to mind, any detail, no matter how frivolous it may seem.” His blue eyes gleamed like cold sapphires.

Yosef s mind drifted back to that conversation with Zadok. They’d been sitting around the dinner table at his home on Tikkun, sharing the last bottle of beer in his cooler, laughing. But what else had he said? “Something about not fully trusting someone, but I don’t recall who. I’m sorry, Jeremiel. Is something happening with the Desert Fathers I should know about?”

Jeremiel hesitated, as though weighing seriously whether or not to answer. “Yosef, how did you manage to get into the guards’ storeroom and in here to see me?”

Yosef blinked, taken aback. Did Jeremiel doubt whose side he was on? “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have shown you this.” He took the crumpled crystal sheet from his pocket and handed it over. Jeremiel took it and smoothed it out on the table, tilting it to the firelight to read it.

When he’d finished, he stared hard at Yosef.
“How did you get this?”

“Ari and I caught the Mashiah when he was alone with his girlfriend and he signed it without even reading it. I think he was anxious to get back to … Well, anyway, we’ve been using it on different guards ever since. But I think maybe its usefulness is nearly at an end. Stories go around quickly in this palace.”

“They do in all small, closely organized units. Battleships are the same way.” Then suddenly Jeremiel jerked around. “What’s his girlfriend’s name?”

“Rachel. She’s a real beauty. Came here just after—”

“So she’s in.”

“In what?”

“Yosef, can you arrange for me to see her? Maybe, if we live through the next hour, bring her to wherever I’m hiding?”

“I suppose so. Do you know her?”

“Yes, but that’s confidential information. She’s part of the clandestine attack force set up to lay siege to this palace in a few days.”

Yosef s mouth dropped open. “How long do we have?”

“I don’t know for sure. That’s why I have to get out of here. That and other reasons. And just in case I miss Rachel, tell her
I specifically ordered
she is to go through with our original plans.

“I’ll see she gets that message. But if you have plans set up, why do you need to go back to the Fathers? Maybe we could get you off Horeb if we could find a way to the spacedock.”

“No, not yet.” Jeremiel ran a hand through his blond hair and exhaled tiredly. “There’s a—a traitor—in the midst of the Fathers. I know his motives for wanting to sell me to the Magistrates, but I don’t know if he intends to undermine the attack forces or not. My guess is, since he thinks me safely in the Councilman’s hands, he does. I have to find out.”

“Is it necessary to attack Seir? The Mashiah is really a fine boy. He’s very immature but not a bad person.”

“Don’t you care that Tartarus wants to stamp out the old religion?”

Yosef shrugged apologetically. “I haven’t had any religious convictions in years, Jeremiel. Now, Ari, he’s as devout as they come, but to me one religion’s as good as another.”

Jeremiel lowered his eyes, nodding slowly. “I understand. However, the attack must go through, for the sake of Horeb in general, believers and nonbelievers. I’m certain Ornias plans on destroying all of his enemies.”

Yosef nodded forlornly. “Well, Ari’s waiting. Perhaps we could continue this later? I’m afraid if we wait too long, he’ll get fidgety.”

“Fidgety? That’s scarier than the thought of facing those guards.”

Yosef placed a hand against his chair arm and pushed up to stand, stretching his aching back. “I thought you’d agree. Shall we go, then?”

Jeremiel stood, heaving an anxious breath. Wind battered the palace, whistling through the corridor outside. “Anything’s better than waiting for Tahn to call.”

Yosef nodded his understanding. Tahn hadn’t seemed at all the type to treat Jeremiel kindly. He waddled toward the door, opening it wide and stepping out, Jeremiel at his heels.

“Hey!” the sergeant shouted, leveling his pistol. “Get back in there before I blow a hole in you so big they’ll be able to drive a damned starship through it!”

“Captain?” Yosef called as El whirled, slapping at his own gun. “I need to take this man to the Mashiah. His information is far too valuable for me to present it secondhand. Could you assign a guard to accompany us?”

“You need to take him? But Mister Calas, my orders from the councilman are that he is to stay here under lock and key. I have no authority to release him to you.”

Yosef frowned mildly, taking the note from his pocket again and handing it to El. “If you’ll please reread that last line, I’m sure you’ll see that the Mashiah asked you to follow my instructions. It will greatly displease him if you don’t.”

The captain shoved Yosef s message back to him. “I recall the wording, sir, but I can’t just disobey the Councilman.”

“Do you work for Ornias, Captain, or the Mashiah?”

El anxiously scratched behind his ear, red hair glistening as he tilted toward the lamp on the wall. “Both. But I’ve never had their orders conflict before. To be honest, the Mashiah’s never given me one.”

“And so on this first, you’ll disobey him?” Yosef asked in disappointment, hoping to make the convert feel guilty. It always worked with Ari. Whenever his friend suggested something absolutely outrageous, Yosef had but to ask what Epagael would think to get him to settle down.