Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [278]
We proceeded.
I do not know how far it was, that stone-sealed journey beneath a city built on water. Not far, I suppose; a mere city block, as the architects would reckon it. Outside, I had seen the domes of the Temple and shuddered at their nearness. Below ground, it seemed a world away. The dense, sodden stone absorbed the sound of our footfalls until we seemed a line of shuffling wraiths. I felt a weariness born of dampness and chill and stone, the never-ending dark eye of thetunnel opening on and on before us. It came almost as a shock when Joscelin stopped in front of me and gazed upward, lifting the lamp.
Another set of stairs, equally steep and narrow, leading upward to vanish in darkness.
"This is it," Joscelin whispered. "Phèdre, the plan is yours. What do you will?"
I gazed up the stairs, straining eyes and ears, but I could not penetrate the darkness and no sound filtered down to us in the tunnel. "Let me go first and see," I whispered back. "If the priestesses of Asherat are the only danger, I'm best equipped to avoid it."
His face tightened. "And if they're not, you're the worst. I'm coming with you."
"Will you stay three paces behind and wait on the stair for my signal?"
Joscelin paused, then gave a curt nod.
"Good." I turned to the others. "Wait here. We'll investigate, and send word."
Ti-Philippe let out a sigh of resignation; he knew better than to try talking me out of anything. Kazan frowned. "I do not like it any better than he does, I," he said in a low voice, jerking his chin at Joscelin. "That you should walk first into danger, no. Better one of us."
I smiled in the dim, lamplit tunnel. "You named me rightly when you named me a spy, my lord, long ago on Dobrek. This is what I am trained to do. I would no more allow you to go in my place than you would allow me to lead your men in battle."
Someone at the rear—Volos, I thought—offered an Illyrian jest under his breath regarding the nature and extent of my training. I was glad of the dim light hiding my blush, and doubly glad that Joscelin spoke not a word of Illyrian.
Kazan's mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. "Then be careful, you," he said aloud.
I nodded, took a deep breath, and began to ascend the stair.
It is harder to move silently in utter blackness, which iswhat I found myself in once the sharply rising walls cut off sight of the tunnel below. All sounds seem magnified, and one is prone to a vertiginous unsteadiness without vision's markers. As well that Delaunay made Alcuin and me train at such things blindfolded. I let my fingertips trail along the slimy walls and climbed steadily, step by noiseless step. True to his word, Joscelin followed several paces behind me. He did a fair job of stealth—Cassilines are trained to move with grace and balance and discretion, all of which stood him in good stead—but I could hear him clearly enough; an occasional scrape or creak of leather, the faint sound of his breathing.
Then again, I am trained to hear such things, too.
As it happens, our stealth on the stair was unnecessary; 'twas sealed at the top with another door. I felt at the slick, mossy wood with both hands and pressed my ear to it, grimacing with distaste. Faintly, very faintly, I could make out the sound of voices beyond, a low, rhythmic chanting.
In the Temple, I thought; not near enough to be immediately on the other side of the door. I tried the handle cautiously. It was locked, of course.
"The eunuch may have a key." Joscelin spoke at my ear, so quietly his breath scarce stirred my hair.
"And he may not," I murmured in reply, reaching for my brooch. " 'Twill be quicker, this way." I found the lock by touch, working the pin in blindly; it does not matter, for such a task. The faint scratching sound rattled loud in my ears.
"I am sorry," Joscelin said almost inaudibly, "we never found a way to free him."
So