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popping a fist into a palm meaningfully.
The gnarly man wasquick! Preacher just had time for a startled squeak. Then he
was in the air, flailing toward Spud. Emerald put on speed. More than a touch
of panic drove him. He did not know what to do. There was no provision in the
plan for his not being able to shake his pursuers. The wall of illusion should
have worked.
It was a failed plan anyway. Not all Rider's men had left the Citadel.
The Master would know what to do. But he could not run to the Master. That
would lead these men to him.
He grimaced. Then grinned. He would lead them away from the Master. Wear them
down, till the Master became disturbed by his failure to report and
investigated.
Soup gasped, "Are we going to keep this up all day? Or are we going to catch
him?" He stopped at a chandler's shop. The others paused. As long as Su-Cha
could sniff Emerald's trail they would not lose him. "Let's get organized. He
isn't going to lead us anywhere. If he gets too tired and scared he might try
picking us off. We've got to capture him."
"How you figure on doing that?" Su-Cha demanded. "Preacher and Spud already
blew it."
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"Buy some rope. Rope him like a steer, bind him up, and carry him back to the
Citadel."
Su-Cha cackled. "Great. Get it! Reams or bales or bundles or whatever rope
comes in. A mile of it! We'll turn him into a human cocoon."
Three minutes later they were on the trail again, armed with coils of light
line. Fifteen minutes later they had Emerald surrounded.
The gnarly man saw their intent. He darted this way and that. A wicked knife
sprang into his hand. He feinted toward Preacher, rushed Spud.
Hands and feet flashed. The knife flickered away. Spud and Emerald rolled over
and over, grunting and yelling. Su-Cha pranced around them, trying to slip a
noose over Emerald's head. Soup got one on an ankle and pulled.
Preacher looped an arm, took off. Emerald stretched out, cursing and flailing.
Spud thumped his head a few times. Soup got another rope on. The four of them
began baling the gnarly man.
All this took place on a busy street. Passersby pretended blindness.
Shasesserre was that kind of city still, centuries after Jehrke began trying
to turn it around.
"Hi ho, hi ho," Soup laughed as he and Spud hoisted their prisoner. "Off to
gaol for you, friend. Let's somebody find a wagon. This sucker's pants are
full of lead."
Preacher hired a rickshaw. Emerald rode. The others ran alongside, laughing
and clowning.
Chaz answered the laboratory door. He grinned when he saw Emerald, but held a
finger to his lips. "Keep it down. Rider is mending the web."
Soup and Preacher plopped Emerald down under the open window, where he could
look at the Protector and contemplate his fate. They joined the crowd in the
library, where Rider had spread his father's extra web charts atop a table
fifteen feet long and five wide. Rider neither welcomed them nor upbraided
them for leaving the Citadel. He gave them jobs to do.
Hours passed. The sun dropped to within two diameters of the horizon. The rope
divers were just a few stages short of the tower's top. Rider finally rose,
sighing wearily. "That's enough for now. We'll put the final touches on after
we finish this business."
"Got you a present, Rider," Su-Cha crowed. He pranced around, made smoke come
out his ears. "In the laboratory."
Rider followed the imp to the other room.
Emerald sat where he had been dumped.
"He's the one who did the deed," Su-Cha said. "It was him on the tower last
night."
"Cool one," Chaz remarked. "If he can sleep now."
Rider darted forward, afraid he had lost another prisoner. But Emeraldwas
asleep. "There would have been a tug on the web," he told himself. He closed
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his eyes, allowed his being to flow out the web's strands, and the web to fill
him. He sensed every magic within five miles of the Rock. Each was legitimate.
He could detect nothing of Kralj Odehnal.
"Get the gag off him," Rider said. "Untie him. Let him get some circulation
back. There's nowhere he can go."
Emerald cursed them roundly. He crawled to his feet, stood unsteadily. Then he
spotted Caracene.
Unintelligible words whipped back and forth. They got hot. Emerald was angry,
accusing; Caracene bitter and defensive. Emerald became increasingly pale. He
began to shake.
"Are you ready to talk to us?" Rider asked.
Emerald spat on the floor.
"I guess that means a truth-drawing. Greystone, Spud, set it up." Rider
followed Emerald's gaze to his father's body. Something would have to be done.
"Hey!"
"Grab him!"
"Su-Cha!... " [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]