The Shewstone Page 31

“Why not?”

  “You don’t need to see it. It’ll look like the one you made.”

  Matt shrugged. “Won’t do any harm.”

  “It will if someone comes into the shrine and catches you.”

  The risk was slight, but Matt decided not to argue. “If it’ll make you happy.”

  “You make me happy, but not when you do daft things.”

  You may be doomed to a fair bit of unhappiness ahead.

  Eawynn returned to her book, and then glanced back. “She’s made a fake Shewstone?”

  “It’s certainly not a real one up there.”

  “She’s a bigger crook than you.”

  Matt was unsure whether to take that as a compliment.

  Previous lovers had tried to stop her running unnecessary risks. Without exception, they had gone down the route of acting scared and tearful. It had always irritated Matt, to the point where she would deliberately provoke them. Eawynn, on the other hand, had acted like a schoolteacher with a harebrained pupil, and the result left Matt feeling absurdly protective. Edmund would have been highly amused.

  Matt sat down again and tried to get comfy on the cold stone. The heavy robe was not as warm as might be supposed. She closed her eyes.

  “Got it.”

  Matt jerked awake, slipping down a step. Why was it always the same way? She had just dozed off. She stood and brush cobwebs from her robe. “You’re ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you need me to do anything?”

  “I will in a moment.”

  Eawynn opened her bag and pulled out a tiny silver incense burner. Soon, the sweet scent of spice and jasmine filled the crypt.

  “Did they use incense in Cyningesburg? I was too far back to tell,” Matt said.

  “No. To be honest, it’s not totally necessary, but I think it might help.”

  “Definitely beats the smell of unwashed slaves.”

  The bag also contained red chalk, five squares of parchment, covered in squiggly lettering, and a small jeweller’s hammer. The smooth wooden handle was also covered in symbols.

  Eawynn passed the hammer to Matt. “Wait until I say to strike the Shewstone.”

  “I didn’t think you’d get a gold sledgehammer in that bag. I take it size doesn’t matter.”

  “Not if I get the words right.”

  With the chalk, Eawynn drew a five-pointed star on the altar around the Shewstone. “I guess you didn’t see this either, but they killed a goat and used its blood for the pentagram in Cyningesburg. It was complete overkill.”

  “Especially from the goat’s point of view.”

  Eawynn arranged the parchment squares, one at each point of the star and picked up the book. “Now we begin.” She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Ic abiede tha heafonas hieren min gebeod.”

  Eawynn’s words continued, flowing in a rhythm. Without understanding anything, Matt could sense a watchful force, seeping through the crypt, gathering around them. The air felt thick as she sucked it into her lungs. Hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end; even her scalp prickled. A haze crept over Matt, her thoughts slowed, her eyes grew heavy. Deep inside the Shewstone, the colours deepened. Wild patterns swirled in the depths. It shifted out of focus, became bigger. Lights from the stone raced across the roof of the crypt.

  Suddenly, Matt was fully awake. Eawynn had stopped her chant. The Shewstone was at peace on the altar, radiating softly. Its outline was firm, although five times the size as before. A humanoid figure was inside the Shewstone, or the Shewstone was inside the figure, or the figure was inside Matt’s head. Her eyes did not seem to be playing any role in identifying what she was seeing.

  You are my friends. You will let me fly away home.

  The words formed directly in Matt’s head, neither a question nor a plea, but a statement of fact.

  “Yes,” Eawynn replied.

  Knew you would. Always knew you were my friends. Always loved you.

  “I’m sorry about what was done to you. If I’d known I wouldn’t have—”

  No. Don’t talk about the sad time. The sad time is over. Now the dancing starts. It was not my friend’s fault.

  “Thank you.”

  No need to thank. I love my friends who will set me free.

  “Yes. We’ll release you right now.” Eawynn gestured to Matt “Strike it with the hammer.”

  Wait, my friends.

  Matt stopped.

  When the stone breaks, I will go home. I would leave my friends with a present, because I love them.

  “A present?”

  What gift would my friends want?

  A dozen ideas shot through Matt’s head. What sort of presents could a sylph give? If only she had been forewarned a reward might be in the offing.

  “We want no gifts.” Eawynn got in first.

  Matt sighed. But it was not really her show.

  No present? Then I wish both my friends the best of luck. Now, let me fly home.

  How hard did she need to strike? Presumably, if a jeweller’s hammer was adequate, a mighty blow was not required. Matt tapped the top of the Shewstone.

  Raw, undiluted joy flooded through Matt, so intense tears burst from her eyes. The ecstasy stopped the heart beating in her chest. Her whole body was filled to bursting, even her skin might rip and whirl away from the frenzy it was trying to contain. Then it was gone. Her heart faltered then picked up again, beating out the rhythm of life. Matt gasped. Mortal bodies were not built to withstand the experience. Beside her, Eawynn had dropped to her knees.

  On the altar, the Shewstone was expanding again, now to the size of a man. Matt stumbled back, pulling Eawynn with her. How big was it going to get? Suddenly, the Shewstone rocketed upward, smashing a hole through the ceiling of the crypt and the ground above. The following crash would be the Shewstone bursting through the shrine. The thud of falling masonry shook dust and cobwebs from the roof of the crypt. A dazzling flash of blue light from the hole temporarily blinded Matt, accompanied by one final explosion, louder than any thunder.

  Then silence.

  In the light of the lantern, dust eddies danced in a breeze caused by the new ceiling breach. Still dazed, Matt tottered to the altar. A round hole tunnelled up through a dozen feet of earth and stone. Sounds floated down from the outside world, alarm bells, screams, shouts, and the distant barking of dogs.

  There went her plans for a quiet getaway. “Oh, shit.”

  “I guess that would have been noticed.” Eawynn joined her, looking up.

  “If you weren’t going to ask for a reward, you could have asked if the sylph would go quietly.”

  “There was nothing about it in the book. What do we do now?”

  “I’m thinking an escape would be a good idea.”

  What were their chances? On the assumption there would be nobody around, Matt had intended to pick the lock on the gateway to the sanctuary and rely on the priestly robe to get Eawynn past the guards on the main gate. Matt would then return to the hostel and make her scheduled departure as Hilda of Gimount the next day. After the sylph’s ear-splitting exit, they would be lucky even to get to their room without being caught.

  Matt climbed the spiral staircase and blew out the lantern, then cautiously lifted the trapdoor an inch. At her shoulder, Eawynn muttered under her breath, “At least no one’s standing on it.”

  Half the roof had gone. The full moon peeked in though a rip in the clouds. Already, several priestesses had arrived in what was left of the Shrine to the Oracle. They stood in a knot in the middle of the floor, pointing at the gaping ruins. The final explosion had ripped off the rear third of the room, leaving only a few unbalanced bits of wall sticking up through the rubble. Unsightly Sister Orifice would not only have to paint herself yet another Shewstone, she would need to find somewhere to keep it.

  Fortunately, the location of the trapdoor meant everyone had their back to it. The chances of sneaking out unnoticed were not good, but would not ge
t any better with waiting. Matt scrambled up the last few steps and lent a hand to Eawynn. Nobody looked around, but Matt could hear more people on the way. She and Eawynn made it to an alcove just in time. Three more priestesses trotted into the shrine. With squeaks of distress, they joined the horrified huddle.

  Matt edged her way to the open doorway, listening intently. No new footsteps echoed around the atrium. She took Eawynn’s hand and slipped out. By the time the next agitated gaggle of priestesses appeared through the western archway, she and Eawynn were well clear of the shrine door and hidden in the darkest corner of the atrium.

  “We go to the hostel?” Eawynn whispered.

  “Yes. Pick up our stuff and make new plans.”

  So far things had gone their way, but how much longer could it last? At night, fewer priestesses would be in the eastern side of the grounds, but this would only make them more conspicuous in their borrowed robe if they were spotted.

  With Matt in the lead, they crept from shadow to shadow. They saw no one until the hostel door came in sight. All the other guests were clustered outside, talking excitedly among themselves. Getting past them unseen would be impossible, but at that moment, Welcoming Sister Hosteller appeared.

  “Please, go to your rooms. I’ll find out what’s happening.” She spoke loudly enough for Matt to overhear.

  The guests obediently trooped inside, and Welcoming Sister Hosteller waddled off in the direction of the shrine. As soon as the way was clear, Matt and Eawynn hurried to their room.

  “You can still leave as Hilda tomorrow, but I don’t know how I’m getting away,” Eawynn said.

  “A broken plan is a plan you drop. We pack up and get out now.”

  “Are you sure that’s best?”

  “At the moment, everybody is confused. It makes them unpredictable, but there’ll be holes. Once things calm down, the guards’ patrols will be tighter than a cat’s bum. If they search the temple, we can’t risk them finding you. I know where they look. They’ll check under the bed and in the wardrobe, and there isn’t space to hide you anywhere else. Our best chance is to go quickly.”

  But how? What were their options? The atrium would be the scene of much coming and going from now until daybreak and beyond. This ruled out any attempt to leave via the sanctuary and main gate. The garden wall would be a possibility if they had a ladder. Dropping from the hay door in the stable was doable, but would risk a broken ankle, and the armed guards would be on high alert. Did they have another way out?

  “We need rope. Do you think we’ll find some in the workshops or the stable?” Matt asked.

  “We could try.”

  Somebody sneezed in the corridor outside. Immediately, Matt yanked the robe over her head, shoved it into Eawynn’s arms, then pushed Eawynn into the wardrobe. A knock came at the door.

  “Yes?”

  The room door opened as the wardrobe door closed. Welcoming Sister Hosteller looked suitably abashed to see Matt standing in her underclothes.

  “Ah…you must have heard the commotion.”

  “Yes, I did. And I’m sorry. I’m getting dressed right now and leaving. I just don’t feel the temple is safe, first thefts and now this.” Matt worked on sounding tearfully unhappy.

  “I’m sure you don’t need to worry.”

  “What was that loud bang?”

  “We don’t quite know, but Most Reverend Insightful Sister Oracle will be leading prayers shortly. Would you like to join us?” Welcoming Sister Hosteller’s face showed she recognised the shortcomings in her answer.

  “No.”

  “If you wait until morning, we’ll be happy to assist you.”

  “I’ll think about it, but if I don’t see you tomorrow, thank you for everything.”

  Welcoming Sister Hosteller gave another regretful smile and left.

  “Do you think a hostel guest could leave without being noticed?” Eawynn asked, once she emerged.

  “Unlikely, but it’ll be chaotic enough she won’t be able to completely rule it out. Hopefully, nobody will be surprised if they never set eyes on Hilda of Gimount again.”

  Packing the few items they had and changing into everyday clothes did not take long. They had just finished when they heard the other guests leave to join in with whatever prayers were thought appropriate for things that go bang in the night.

  Matt kissed Eawynn quickly and opened the door, then turned back and kissed her again, more soundly. If things went wrong, they might never get to kiss again.

  *

  The clouds had blown away. The moonlight might make it easier to see where they were going, but it also made it easier for someone else to see them. Fortunately, it appeared everyone had gone to the sanctuary. Eawynn would have to admit, she was also a little curious about the prayers Insightful Sister Oracle would choose. There were none that completely fitted the form of, Please, Anberith, don’t let Enlightening Sister Astrologer become high priestess.

  “We might be able to get out the loading hatch in the hay loft over the stable,” Matt whispered. “The biggest problem is that guards are posted nearby, and it’s a long drop so we’ll need a rope. If we’re in luck, we’ll find rope in the stable. But it’s too much to hope the guards will have been pulled for hole watching duties. More likely they’ll be patrolling the length of the wall. We’ll have to try to dodge between them.”

  Matt slipped silently from the shadow around the hostel to that of the refectory, and then on to the kitchen. Eawynn followed, trying to match Matt’s stealthy footsteps and failing. She could hear the crunch of gravel under her boots. From the kitchen, they moved to the wall separating the vegetable garden from the rest of the temple site. They passed the small doorway used by the cook and her helpers. Matt placed her hands flat on the wood, clearly thinking about its exit potential.

  “The door is always locked at night,” Eawynn whispered.

  “I could pick it.”

  “We’d still have the outer wall to get over.”

  Matt nodded her agreement but turned the handle anyway.

  To Eawynn’s surprise, the door opened. “Somebody must have forgotten to lock it.”

  Matt poked her head around the edge and then stepped through, beckoning, “Come on.”

  The kitchen garden was an uneven shape, more bent triangle than anything else. From the door where they stood, the outer wall was fifty yards away at the nearest point. It was, if anything, even taller than the inner wall, a good fourteen feet high.

  Matt pointed to a wagon parked in the far corner. “That’ll do us.”

  After the rain, the gaps between the rows of plants were long troughs of water. Eawynn picked up several pounds of mud on her boots as they skirted the edge, but felt relatively safe. Apart from the hostel, no windows overlooked the garden.

  When they reached it, they found the back of the wagon was piled high with bales of straw, wet and slimy after the rain, but easy to climb on. From the top, the outer wall was a small hop up. Even more fortunately, the wagon was parked by one of the spots where the broken glass coping was completely missing.

  Eawynn peered over. Directly opposite, a narrow alleyway broke the row of houses, but as Matt had feared, the temple guards had changed their normal pattern. An armed man was stationed no more than thirty yards down the road, and they would be in plain sight when they jumped. They had little hope of reaching the alleyway without the alarm being raised. They both ducked back behind the wall.

  “We’ll have to risk it,” Matt said.

  “There’s just one. Could we overpower him?”

  Matt gave a tight smile. “I’ll make a criminal of you yet. But more will turn up when he starts shouting, trust me. Speed is our best bet. When I give the word, jump down and run like hell.”

  Without warning, a fury of barking broke out. Eawynn looked back over the wall. A stray dog had taken a dislike to the guard, who was trying to chase it away. For the moment, his attention was fully occupied.

  “Now! Go!” Matt whispe
red urgently. She tossed their bags over the wall then scrambled after.

  Eawynn copied her actions, hanging by her hands for the barest instant before dropping to the ground. She grabbed her pack and scurried across the road, into the cover of the alleyway. The barking continued, and the guard’s shouted obscenities were clearly directed solely at the dog. Eawynn set off at full pelt through the streets. If she had not needed her breath for running she would have laughed aloud. Maybe she could come to enjoy the adventure of breaking the rules, just now and then, when they were bad rules and in serious need of review.

  Matt eventually caught up with her in a small square. The old oak in the middle held the sinking moon in its branches, but dawn was approaching, the sky paling to the east.

  “It’s all right. You didn’t need to run since we weren’t seen.”

  Eawynn leaned against the trunk, gasping. “It seemed like the thing to do.”

  “No. You don’t run if you don’t have to, because it attracts attention.” Matt was laughing in between catching her breath. She rested a shoulder on the tree, took hold of Eawynn’s hand, and raised their interlocked knuckles to her lips.

  “We got away.” Eawynn was not sure if she fully believed it.

  “Yes, we did. And a lot easier than I expected.”

  “We were lucky. What with the door being unlocked, the wagon, and the dog.” Even as she spoke, a silly idea slipped into Eawynn’s head. She frowned, wondering if she should speak.

  “Yes. And Sister Whatsit sneezing before she knocked on the door.”

  Was it silly? “The sylph wished us the best of luck.”

  “That’s just a saying.”

  “It was a celestial spirit that said it.”

  “I don’t believe in good luck.”

  “You didn’t believe in demons either,” Eawynn pointed out.

  “Come on. You’re teasing. You’re just as sceptical as me.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Thieves who rely on luck don’t last long.”

  Eawynn laughed and looked down. She did not believe in luck either, but it was always fun teasing Matt. The last beams of moonlight struck something in the dead leaves by her feet, something that glittered yellow. She scuffed the loose covering aside. Lying on the ground were three gold coins. Neither of them spoke for a long while.