The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [17]
Jack looked at him more closely. “I don’t think we’ve ever met, but you sound like some other children I know.”
Flannery nodded and flashed a brilliant smile, which was missing a tooth on the bottom. “It’s nowhere near as big as Asterius’s labyrinth back on Centrum Terrae, but it suits me fine,” he said as he moved quickly to an opening near the left side of the cavern. “Follow me, but remember—keep turning left.”
The passages were dimly lit by glowing moss embedded in the walls and a smattering of luminescent mushrooms, but Flannery was not moving so quickly that any of them ever lost sight of the flame.
Abruptly the tunnel ended, with a sharp upturn and a ladder. Flannery climbed it and threw back the trapdoor at the top.
“It’s about time you came back, MacDuff,” Archimedes squawked, hopping up and down on a crude wooden table. “These aren’t Einstein’s papers at all, just a bunch of Newtonian scribbles. And as to those mechanical mice you promised . . .”
“No time, Archie,” Charles said as he and the others climbed out of the tunnel and up into the small storeroom. “There’s a chase afoot.”
The storeroom, which was lit warmly by several candles, was cramped and low-ceilinged. It was carved out of the space underneath a massive oak tree, as evidenced by the roots framing the walls. There were boxes and other parcels scattered around the space, obviously items left in Flannery’s care. Higher up, in the trunk itself, were several windows disguised as knotholes. He scrambled up to one and peered outside.
“No one’s about,” he called down. “They must all be inside tearing the inn apart.”
Flannery looked again. “No, wait. I see something.” He motioned for the others to move to knotholes lower down. “Have a look, if you wish to see who your enemies are.”
The companions clustered around the small openings and peered out into the dusky night air. The moon had come up, and it cast a wan glow over the woods. If they had not known otherwise, they would have been hard-pressed to believe that this place was not just another wood near Oxford.
A clamor from the direction of the inn drew their attention, and off to the right, they saw the glow of firelight, followed by the shadowed forms of their pursuers.
As Ransom had described, the Yoricks were both bird and man. They were seven feet tall, and their heads were the oversized skulls of birds. They had no eyes, only sockets that glowed red, and no feathers. They were garbed in Elizabethan-era clothing, including capes, and had long, skeletal arms that ended in poorly fitting gloves.
Their legs were those of birds, and ended in four-toed avian feet with wicked-looking talons. When they were not shrieking, they communicated with one another in a series of clucks and whistles.
There were nearly two dozen of them—which meant that they were prepared to overwhelm the companions by sheer numbers alone.
Curiously, they seemed to be under the command of a man, who was shorter than they, but obviously in charge. He spoke to them in a brusque tone that was too low to hear, but he was not pleased. Lampwick was also among them, although he seemed more apologetic than anything else. He said something to the man, who responded by striking him brutally across the face. The innkeeper turned and went back the way he’d come.
At the man’s direction, half of the Yoricks returned to the inn, and the rest followed him into the wood, on a path that took them startlingly close to Flannery’s tree.
All the companions save for Jack dropped away from the knotholes and covered the candles. Jack watched until their pursuers had passed, then joined the others, his face gone gray with fear and, oddly, shock.
“It’s all right,” Flannery reassured him. “The outside of my den is well concealed. They won’t find us easily, and certainly not quickly.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s startled him,” John said, guiding Jack to a chair. “He’s seen and experienced quite a lot, so this has to be something else.”
“I’m all right,” said Jack. “I’m just trying to rationalize what I saw.”
Charles nodded.