The Dark City Read Online Free PDF Page B

Until now.
    Because the power was gone. Although he’d only gained a little of it, Raffi guessed the horror of that. The Order had the skills to contact all sorts of life. And in the relics, they touched traces of the Makers themselves, who had come down and lived in the world, built and formed it, and then gone, no one knew where.
    It would kill Galen, that loss. Or drive him insane.
    “You think there’ll be some sort of cure in Tasceron?”
    “There must be!” Galen limped around the cell with a pent-up, feverish energy. “There must be some of our people left, someone who could help me! I’ve got to try anything!”
    Crouching, he put his hand on the rocking cup. Raffi looked up; the keeper was watching him, eyes dark. In the candlelight his face was edged with pain, gaunt. “I’m sorry to have to take you into more danger. But I’ll need you.”
    Raffi shrugged. “I made a promise. To go where you go. Into darkness, into light, remember?” Uneasy, he looked away.
     
     
     
    THEY SLEPT ON the floor, cold and unbearably hard after the bracken of the forest. For a while Raffi lay awake, listening to the keeper’s steady breathing. He knew Galen was desperate. But Tasceron! He’d have to go with him, if only to try and keep them both alive, but he didn’t know enough, he was only at the fourth Branch. It wasn’t fair, he thought bitterly. And the fires burned under Tasceron, had burned for years. How could any of the Order have survived?
    He must have slept, because a long time later someone was shaking him out of unreachable dreams; he groaned and rolled over stiffly. He was soaked with drizzle, the room cold with an early-morning light.
    Alberic stood in the doorway, burly men behind him. He wore a silk tunic trimmed with dark fur and small boots that must have cost the shoemaker an immense amount of trouble.
    “Mmm.” He glanced around the cell. “The guest room could do with a little more work. But then, most of our guests don’t leave. What about you?”
    Galen stood up, tall and grim. “We’ve decided. We’ll find your Sekoi.”
    Alberic grinned slyly. “Oh, excellent,” he murmured. “I knew you would.”

The Bee’s Warning

6
    The agent must carry out a proper surveillance.
    Rule of the Watch
    Journal of Carys Arrin Cyraxday 4.16.546
    It was a light of some sort. Nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Something utterly, brilliantly white, and it flashed out from the top window of the fortress, facing east, two hours after dusk.
    If I hadn’t been watching the place closely I might have missed it, though both the pack-beast and the horse skittered and stamped in fright. For a moment I was afraid they’d be heard, but I needn’t have worried; all the animals in Alberic’s pens were just as terrified; the clamor of geese and the barking of all the dogs came up clear through the drizzle.
    I got to the fortress this afternoon, and camped on a rocky knoll above it. It’s sheltered here. Two great pines sprout out over the cliff; by climbing one I’m well hidden and have a good view of Alberic’s defenses. (A separate report on these will go to the Watch as soon as I find someone to take it.)
    At first there were a lot of people about; as it got dark and the weather closed in, they went indoors. A fine, gray drizzle fell, but I was well sheltered. After the light flashed out, I lay along the branch and thought about it. First, it had to mean that Galen Harn was inside the fortress. Only he could have done that, or his scholar—though according to our information Raffael Morel has only been with him for four years, since Harn took him from his father’s farm.
    And they must have used a relic. This was no wood and water mumbo jumbo, no sacred trees or spirit journeys. This was something brimming with power, blinding. Something of the Makers.
    For a long time I waited, fidgeting with curiosity. What was going on in there? Harn and Alberic must be in some plot together, brewing something