Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [170]
At last I gave up. If I delayed any longer, I wouldn’t reach the harbor in time. The palace would awaken and the alarm would be raised. I shifted Sidonie to the edge of the carpet.
“Sun Princess.” I knelt beside her and kissed her sleeping lips. “We have to try this now. Don’t you dare die on me, or I swear to Blessed Elua, I’ll haunt you through a thousand lifetimes.”
There was no answer. I raised her arms and crossed them in front of her face, hoping and praying that it would create a pocket of air that would keep her from smothering. Carefully, carefully, I rolled the most precious thing in the world to me into a carpet.
That done, I rewound the Amazigh scarf around my head and face. I moved the chair blocking Bodeshmun’s door and checked the corridor.
Empty.
Good.
I stooped and hoisted the rolled carpet with an effort, slinging it over my shoulder. It was heavy, heavier than I’d reckoned. Sidonie sleeping was dead weight, and the carpet itself was dense and tightly woven.
It didn’t matter. I could do it.
I carried her into the corridor, closing the door behind me, and made swiftly for the servants’ stair. It was narrow and winding, and the ends of the rolled carpet scraped harshly against the stone walls. I had to use both hands to keep my burden balanced, navigating the narrow steps awkwardly. By the time I reached the bottom, the guard posted on the lower floor was already looking curiously toward the stairwell. Keeping my head averted, I laid down the carpet and beckoned to him, moving as though to unroll the carpet and reveal somewhat of interest.
“What in the name of Ba’al—” he began, bending over to see.
In one swift motion, I unsheathed my dagger and drove it under his chin, angling for the brain. He made a choked sound, and I covered his mouth. His wide, terrified eyes met mine.
It was one of the Carthaginians, one I knew by sight. The guard who’d told me that Astegal was likely to move against Serafin, one of the more decent fellows. I wished it hadn’t been him. I remembered him grumbling about fighting a winter war. He must have thought himself lucky when he’d gotten this posting.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
His body went limp with death. Blood dripped onto the rolled carpet between us. I stepped over the carpet and wrestled him over to the wine cellar door. This one was unlocked; Astegal had preferred to set a guard on the wine-cellar rather than suffer any delays in his revels, and Bodeshmun hadn’t bothered to alter his order. I dragged the guard’s body into the dark cellar, then sprinted upstairs to retrieve Sidonie.
Still dead weight.
Once I closed the cellar door behind us, it was pitch black. I paused for a moment, willing my eyes to adjust, but there was simply no light. Step by step, I descended, balancing Sidonie and the carpet on my shoulder.
At the bottom, I stumbled over the guard’s legs. The carpet lurched. I caught myself and steadied my burden. Kratos hadn’t said where the outer delivery door was located, and I hadn’t thought to ask. I wished there had been more time to go over the details of our plan with Sidonie. With her practical mind, it would have occurred to her that I’d be mired in darkness here.
Gods, I hoped she wasn’t suffocating.
I began making my way blindly through the cellar, one hand steadying my burden, the other outstretched. I blundered into kegs, barked my shins. I had to turn this way and that, losing all sense of direction.
No good.
I closed my eyes and breathed slowly. Darkness within darkness. I could do this. Leander Maignard could do it in his sleep. A child’s training game, nothing more. I lowered the heavy carpet to the cool stones of the floor, turning it in such a manner that Sidonie’s face was sideways—or at least so I hoped.
“Love,” I whispered. “I have to leave you for a moment. But I’ll be back.”
Without the burden, I was able to move