Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [64]
Kale could not shake the unsettling feeling of intense misery. She strained to see into the shadows, expecting faces, expecting some sign of life. “This is a dungeon with no prisoners?”
Shimeran’s glow dimmed and changed to a somber blue. “It has been a long time since Risto bothered to keep prisoners alive.”
Kale followed in silence after that. Often a cavern had more than two ways leading out. She pointed whenever Shimeran cast her a questioning look, but he led the way in each case. Dar moved quietly, sometimes in front of Kale and sometimes behind.
Kale concentrated on finding Leetu. The thoughts conjured up by the grim sights around them intruded on her ability. She almost heard whispers, soft cries of despair, and rustling like wind in dry leaves. But there was no wind, there were no leaves. Still the eerie atmosphere bothered her.
“Something is wrong,” she said as they entered yet another empty cavern. “Are we going around in circles?”
“You are directing us,” Shimeran reminded her, walking to the center of the room.
“I know.” Kale sighed. Explaining would be difficult. “I feel Leetu is always ahead of us. But sometimes it feels as if we are just a yard or two away. Then it’s like we passed her and have a long way again.”
Shimeran stopped but didn’t speak. Dar’s ears twitched, showing his nerves were on edge as well.
Kale continued, “At first I thought they might be moving her, and sometimes we were right on their heels, about to catch up, and sometimes they leapt ahead much farther than could be possible if they are truly going around and around in these same tunnels. Something is very wrong.”
“I sense it too,” Dar said. “But my worries stem from the lack of life. There have been no prisoners, no guards, and none of the rats, cats, and druddums you warned us of, Shimeran.”
The kimen’s light dimmed, leaving the walls in shadows. “Let us be quiet.”
Kale wanted to object. She wanted to beg the kimen to brighten the room, but she said nothing. She hated the darkness, the quiet. She thought about Dar pulling out one of his instruments and dispelling the gloom with a lively song. It would be nice to break this somber place with a melody.
As the silence gathered around them, Kale strained her ears to hear something beyond her own breathing. Again, she thought she almost heard sounds of sorrow, a sniff, a sob, a pleading voice.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Dar,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The room is not empty. The cages are not empty.”
Dar’s eyes widened as he looked around. “More light, Shimeran,” he called. “As much as you can muster.”
Once more the image of Dar playing a tune sprang into Kale’s mind.
“Music, Dar,” she said. “Music. Play something. It’s an enchantment.”
Dar reached inside his coat to a pocket and pulled out his harmonica.
“We’ve been blinded by magic.” Kale heard the urgency in her voice and couldn’t explain it, even to herself. “We have walked past the suffering without seeing. Play, Dar.”
The doneel raised his mouth organ to his lips and blew. A melody flowed out with a trill and a lively beat. The air around them wavered, and the image of the empty cavern seemed to melt and flow to the floor. In the room around them, nine cages held thin, worn prisoners.
“They see us,” called one in a weak voice. The sobs Kale had heard changed from mournful to joyous. “They see us.”
25
ESCAPE!
Many different races sat in squalor or hung from the walls with chains about their wrists and ankles. Some watched Leetu’s rescuers with dull eyes. Others croaked out mournful pleas, begging for release, for water, for a crust of bread. A few babbled words that made no sense.
“We have to free them,” said Kale.
Both Shimeran and Dar nodded. Dar moved toward a cage and then paused. He turned to Shimeran.
“We can’t do this alone. Will your people help?”
“Not many have ever come into the fortress.” He looked around.
“There are nearly thirty prisoners here. Few of them are in