“Now we wait for Orso and Gregor to do their bit,” said Sancia. “Right?”
“I suppose so. I just hope we don’t have to wait long.”
* * *
—
Grunting and groaning, Gregor carried Orso down through the levels of the Mountain, always following a dimly lit lantern or light as the Mountain showed them the way. “Please try and keep quiet!” whispered Orso as Gregor staggered down the stairs. “And please don’t jostle me so much! Every time I separate from you, the little light in this rig flickers!”
“Any other orders?” grunted Gregor, hobbling along through the halls.
“We’re almost to the main floor. So—pretty soon you’ll have to keep low too.”
Gregor let out a long, low hiss.
Finally they crept down the last staircase and skirted the walls of the massive atrium. Orso’s skin broke out in gooseflesh as they walked in the shadows of the balconies. It was so eerie to be within this enormous chamber, listening to the patter of distant waters and the echoes of footfalls and the occasional cheeps of a gray monkey who must be nesting in the rafters. Some of the patrolling Dandolo troops bore lanterns, the warm light contrasting sharply with the darks and the blues of the atrium, which was mostly lit by moonlight now. Orso was reminded of crypt keepers walking amidst the catacombs, their lights held high in the gloom.
I fought for years to live here, he thought. Now I’d fight like hell to get out.
“Mountain,” whispered Gregor, “please flash a light within the hallway we need to use.”
They squatted in the shadows studying their surroundings. Then they saw a light flickering in a hallway far, far away, on the other side of the atrium.
Gregor sighed with frustration. “That has to be at least a thousand feet away…”
“It’s not my cup of tea either!” whispered Orso. “I’m chafing like mad in spots I’d much prefer didn’t chafe.”
Gregor looked around, thinking. “Six soldiers down here,” he said quietly. Then he cocked his head. “Orso—you’re going to hop off my back in a bit, all right?”
“What! I am?”
“Yes. Not for long. Hop off when I tell you, and back on when I tell you again, and keep quiet. Understand?”
“I…well. Fine, I suppose.”
Crouching low, Gregor carried Orso across the atrium to where the massive lifting room lay in rubble across the cracked marble floor. Gregor kneeled behind it, poked his head up, and watched the patrols. When they were all roughly aligned with the hallway they needed to use, he whispered, “Off! Now!”
Grunting, Orso delicately stepped off of his back. Instantly, a half dozen little twinkling lights lit up at the guards’ belts.
They stopped patrolling.
“Do…Do you have this?” one guard asked, looking at his people finder.
There was a muttered agreement. The guards looked in Orso and Gregor’s direction and started slowly moving their way, craning their heads curiously.
“Think one of the damned scrivers dropped their sachet again?” asked another voice in the darkness.
“Maybe,” said another. “Thought they’d be a lot more careful about what they put where after that last trap nearly cut that scriver in half…”
“Back on!” whispered Gregor. “Now!”
Orso quickly hopped onto Gregor’s back. Gregor turned and, still staying low, crept away from the ruined lifting room to the shelter of a stairwell at the edge of the atrium.
A voice echoed through the atrium: “It’s gone. What the hell?”
“Maybe it came in and out of range…”
“Or maybe this rig is a piece of shit. Didn’t they have all kinds of hell trying to get these to stop detecting monkeys?”
The guards gathered around the rubble of the lifting room, lanterns held high. A few peered at the edge of the atrium—not at Gregor and Orso, but rather in a straight line with where they’d been hiding.
Gregor edged closer into the shadows that clung about one hallway entrance. He whispered, “Off again.”
“Again?”
“Yes!”
Orso slid off his back. Again, the little twinkling lights sprang on at the soldiers’ hips.
They looked down and fumbled with the little metal balls. “Again? Now it’s over there!” said one, pointing at Gregor and Orso. The guards turned and started moving their way.
“Back on,” whispered Gregor. “Now. Now!”
Grimacing, Orso clung to Gregor’s back again, and he crept off into the shadows, slinking along the walls of the atrium as fast as he could.
“And now it’s gone,” said a guard. “Think there’s an intruder about?”
Orso couldn’t hear the response, but all the guards kept moving toward their last position. He realized what Gregor had accomplished: he’d drawn all the guards away from the entrance they needed to get to the cellars. Though it obviously caused Gregor a great deal of discomfort, he was able to slip along the walls and into the hallway while the guards on the main floor kept fruitlessly searching the far side of the atrium.
Once they were safe, Gregor leaned back and pressed Orso into the wall for support, and then he just sat there, panting.
“Well done!” said Orso.
“Shut up,” gasped Gregor.
Orso looked around. “Hey, I know this hallway.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I used to come down here when it was first built to nick food. And…” His heart sank. “And if I recall, this is where one of the Mountain’s lexicons is located too…”
Gregor stopped panting. “What!”
“Uh…yes.”
“You mean…You mean that another one of the lexicons is going to be located down here?”
“Yes.”
“Near the cellar we need to get to?”
“Yes.”
“The lexicons that the Dandolos are trying to break into as well?”
“Yes.”
“So…that means we’ll have even more guards to deal with as we get closer?”
“Uh, probably, yes.”
Gregor cursed for a moment, then glared at Orso over his shoulder. “I always thought you were skinny,” he said as he fought to his feet with Orso on his back. “But now I’m not so sure.”