Thief By Knight

CHAPTER TWELVE

"I can't go on."
Felix leaned against the tunnel wall, gasping for air. Sweat ran down his face and plastered his thinning hair to his forehead.
Grantaire stopped running. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees and tried to listen over his own heavy breathing. Felix gradually slid down the wall to a sitting position, as if his legs would no longer support him. Even the hand that still gripped what was left of their torch wavered with fatigue. Grantaire leaned against the wall, panting. Eventually, Felix stopped wheezing, and Grantaire felt his breath returning to normal. He listened carefully. He heard nothing. No alarms, no foot steps, no angry voices. Just a deep silence that weighed heavily on them like the vast tons of rock into which they had burrowed.
"I think we've lost them." With a heavy sigh, Grantaire threw himself down beside Felix. If the bandits suddenly ran around the corner, he doubted he'd have the strength to get up.
"We've lost ourselves, too. Soon our torch will be gone. We'll never find our way out of this maze in the dark."
"We'll get out of here. We'll find Enjolras, too. We've come too far to die in this damn hole."
"Grantaire, that fall. It was hundreds of feet, at least. You can't believe..."
"That he's still alive? Oh, I believe it, Felix. I know it. If it had been anyone else, sure, they'd be dead. But not Enjolras. He's supposed to be king, remember? God wouldn't let him fall down a hole and die."
Felix regarded him curiously. His mouth twisted in a wry smile. "I never would have thought it was possible. But I think Enjolras has finally made a believer out of you."
Grantaire stood up, carefully not looking at Felix. He swallowed nervously, his throat suddenly dry. He needed to believe Enjolras was still alive, but shadows of doubt battered him with images of Enjolras lying dead, his blue eyes forever open and sightless. Resolutely, he pushed them away. Somehow, he had to cling to his new-found confidence. He needed it now, to give him the strength to find his friend. He held out a hand and pulled Felix to his feet.
"Of course he's still alive," he said, trying to project a confidence he didn't feel. "Enjolras gets visions, remember. He never said anything about getting killed in a damned cave. He would have known about that. Come on. Let's go find him."
When their torch ran out, Grantaire tore the lining from his cloak and used it to tie himself to Felix. He didn't want them to get separated in the darkness. They kept walking, feeling along the tunnel walls as they stepped cautiously into the blackness. Careful as they were, they constantly tripped over the uneven ground, scraping the skin from their hands and knees. They even fell into each other, pulled down by the cloth that bound them. Nibbling on the heels of their discomfort came a sense of hopelessness. Staggering along blindly with no sense of direction and no sense of time, it was easy to imagine they'd been doing this forever. Grantaire found himself dreaming of the sun as if it were some fantastical thing from another world. Repeatedly he would imagine a light softening the blackness at the end of the tunnel, that they had found a way out at last. But it was only his eyes playing tricks on him.
"It's hopeless," Felix sobbed. Grantaire felt the length of cloth pulling at his belt. Then nothing. He turned around, arms extended, searching for him. He wanted to grab Felix by the shoulders and shake him. His hands found only empty air.
"Felix? Where are you?"
"Here."
The voice came from below him. Grantaire reached down and felt the top of Felix's head. He was sitting down.
"Felix, get up. We have to keep going or we'll never find Enjolras. We'll never find a way out of here."
"We'll never find him in the dark."
"We'll get a torch from somewhere. Come on, Felix. Enjolras wouldn't give up on us. You know he wouldn't. We have to keep moving."
"I need to rest."
"We just rested a few minutes ago." Grantaire was getting frustrated. Felix's despair was wearing away at his own confidence, an unseen presence urging him to give up and die. Grantaire refused to give up. He owed it to Enjolras. He reached for Felix's robes. Finding cloth, he pulled with all his strength.
"Get up, damn it. Or I'll leave you here by yourself." He didn't mean it, not really. Felix allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. They trudged onward, their hands brushing the right wall for guidance.
"Just a little more, Felix. Then we can sleep for a while. I don't think we have to worry about the bandits any more. It's been hours since..."
His right hand met with empty air. Grantaire stopped suddenly, and Felix bumped into him.
"What is it?" Felix's question echoed, bouncing off the stony walls high above them. Grantaire felt air brush against his face.
"There's an opening here."
"Where?"
"Be quiet. I want to listen."
They stood quietly. At first, all Grantaire could hear was Felix breathing softly behind him. Gradually, he began to distinguish other sounds. Water dripped with a steady plop, plop, plop somewhere beyond them. The echoes stretched out far above them. They must be standing in an immense cavern, the first they had found since getting lost. Grantaire thought he heard a rustling noise. Could it be the wind moving through here? Were they close to an exit? He sniffed the air. No, the air was stale. He smelled something else, too. Something unpleasant, like rotting meat. Was there an animal living in here? A fox maybe, or a bear? Grantaire felt for the dagger at his belt, pitiful protection if they'd disturbed a sleeping bear.
Felix poked at his back. "What's going on? Why are we stopping?"
"I think we're in a cavern. A big one." Though Grantaire whispered his answer, the sound carried like a shout in the darkness. He felt uneasy, as if something watched from the shadows.
"A cavern? How can you tell? I can't see a thing."
"It's just a feeling. I want to walk around, see how big it is. Stay behind me and try not to trip over anything."
Grantaire started walking forward. He took small, careful steps and felt the air before him with his hands. He didn't want to walk into a wall. Or worse, fall into a pit like the one that had swallowed Enjolras.
He was still walking long after he expected to run into something. This cavern was enormous. Just when his reaching fingers finally brushed against solid rock, he felt something crunch under his feet. He stopped moving.
"What's wrong?" Felix asked. He sounded nervous.
"I've found something." Grantaire knelt down on the cavern floor and carefully felt the ground with his hands. His reaching fingers came across something smooth and brittle that snapped like a twig when he tried to grab it. He felt around some more and found something hard and round, like rock that had been polished by a river. He picked it up. It was large enough to fill his fist. He rubbed his fingers across the surface. There were two even indentations on one side, and a wide opening beneath them. It was the skull of some sort of animal, probably a rodent. Grantaire dropped it in disgust. Standing, he kicked the ground with his foot. More bones crunched beneath his boot.
"What did you find?" Now Felix sounded worried. Grantaire didn't want to scare him.
"It's just some rocks. Nothing interesting." He doubted there was anything for them to be afraid of here. An animal that preyed on rodents was no threat to them.
"Come on. Let's keep looking. There's water around here somewhere -- I can hear it dripping."
Grantaire kept one hand against the cavern wall and started walking its length. It was even longer than it was wide. For a long time, the bones crunched beneath his feet, and he kept waiting for Felix to wonder why rocks would crunch and snap. The priest never said anything. He was probably too scared to think about it. When Grantaire's foot stepped onto something soft and yielding, he carefully stared Felix around the spot, claiming he was avoiding a hole.
After a while, Grantaire began to get discouraged. Progress was slow when measured in careful, mincing steps. If they found nothing more than animal bones, it would all be a waste of time. Time. It was their worst enemy right now, more dangerous even than the bandits. Cut off from the world of light and shadow, they had no way of measuring how much of it was passing. Grantaire kept thinking of Enjolras, who needed them, and of his own growing thirst. Even if the bandits never found them, they could all die in here, leaving nothing but another set of crumbling bones on the cavern floor.
Just when Grantaire was tempted to give in to his growing despair and lie down on the bone-littered floor, his reaching hand found something interesting. It felt like damp, rotting wood. It reached as high as his shoulders.
"Felix, I've found something."
"More rocks?"
"No, something else." He felt along the wood. There was certainly a lot of it. Then his hand encountered something soft, like leather. "I think there's a whole pile of stuff here."
"Is there anything we can use? We need water. And a light. This darkness, I know it's just my imagination, but I feel it watching me."
"We've been in these caves too long." Grantaire didn't want to admit it, but he felt the same way as Felix. They were both going crazy in here. "Felix, stay here for a minute. I'm going to untie us so I can dig around in this pile."
He undid the knot and handed the length of cloth to Felix. Without that connection, he felt suddenly vulnerable. But it would be easier for him to poke around this way.
Felix shuffled closer. "Can I help you?"
"Thanks, but we'll just get in each other's way. Let me handle this." Grantaire felt along the leather he'd found. It was big, like a saddle bag. He pulled at it. The wood shifted with an ominous groan.
"Grantaire, be careful."
"I am being careful." The bag must be stuck on something. Grantaire stepped closer to it. His leg bumped against something sticking out from the bottom of the pile. The pile shifted, and something snapped. A heavy piece of metal hit Grantaire's shoulder as the pile of junk tumbled onto him, knocking him over.
"Grantaire! Grantaire, are you hurt?"
The avalanche of refuse had unsettled a cloud of dust. Grantaire coughed and choked, unable to answer Felix. He heard the priest shuffle closer and felt a hand touch his head.
"There you are. Are you hurt?"
Grantaire spat dust from his mouth. His shoulder hurt, but he could still move his arm. "No, I think I'm all right. Give me a hand, will you?"
Felix grabbed him and helped pull him free of the debris. Fortunately, nothing heavy had trapped his legs. Grantaire was amazed to find the saddle bag still in his hand. He'd been gripping it tightly since he pulled it free of that mess.
"I told you to be careful," Felix muttered.
"Be quiet and hold this." Grantaire shoved the saddle bag at him. It was full and bulging. There had to be something useful in it.
"What is it?"
"A saddle bag. Hold it still so I can get the clasp." He fumbled with the metal clasp for a moment, then finally got it open. He opened up the bag and reached inside, as excited as a child with an unexpected present. He wasn't disappointed.
"Felix, there are candles in here. And flint and steel. We can make a light. What's this?" He unwrapped a bundle carefully folded in a bit of leather and sniffed it. It smelled like dried meat. He tasted it. "It's dried venison. We have food. Who would leave this here? I wonder what else is in this pile of junk."
"Well, for pity's sake light a candle so we can look with our eyes, instead of groping around like a couple of blind beggars."
"Oh, right. Here, hold this candle, Felix. This won't be easy."
Felix took it from him. Warning the priest to hold it still, Grantaire carefully picked up the piece of flint and steel. Feeling for the wick, he held his hands as close to it as he could and struck the two together. It took a long time, and he dropped the flint twice before a spark finally leaped onto the candle, setting it ablaze.
Grantaire turned around. For a moment he was still blind, his eyes dazzled by the sudden light. The cavern still seemed oddly dark, dotted by pin pricks of greenish gold light. As his vision slowly returned, he began to perceive the rocky walls around them. It was enormous, at least ten times as tall as a man. Water dripped down one wall, spilling into a pool of dirty water. Grantaire licked his parched lips.
Felix gasped and grabbed his arm. Grantaire felt his heart twist in sudden fear as his vision cleared and he realized what those gold pin points of light really were. Eyes. Hundreds of them. Luminous, almond shaped eyes belonging to the screechers that filled this cavern. They clung to the sides of the walls and hung upside down on the ceiling, rustling their leathery wings and glaring at the two humans that had stumbled into their lair. Grantaire stood still, paralyzed by fear even though he wanted to run.
"What do we do?" Felix whispered. The candle flame shook in his trembling hands.
The screechers didn't move. Every pair of eyes watched them. "It's okay," he said to Felix, not believing it for a minute. "They don't eat people. Just birds and rats and things."
"They've been known to eat horses."
It was true. Grantaire had seen a flight of them descend on a tethered horse. By the time the owners came out to chase them away from the screaming animal, its flesh had been torn to bloody ribbons. There was nothing to do but put it out of its misery.
Grantaire studied the horde of bat-like animals. There were hundreds of them. He looked at their wickedly curved talons gleaming like oil in the dim light of the candle. If they wanted to, these creatures could rip him and Felix apart in minutes.
"All right, Felix." For some reason, he felt compelled to whisper. He stayed close to his friend and spoke as softly as he could. "We go back out the way we came." It was the only option. There weren't any other openings in the cavern.
"Do you think they'll let us?"
"There's only one way to find out. Just move very slowly."
They crept slowly toward the mouth of the cavern. The screechers continued to watch them. Some of them shifted their positions, scrabbling for a new hold in the cavern ceiling so they could keep them in sight.
"We're almost there." The exit was only a few steps away. Grantaire resisted the urge to run for it and took another step.
Suddenly, the screechers opened their mouths, revealing their sharp fangs. As one they began hissing. Grantaire took a step back, and the hissing stopped.
"Felix, I don't think they want us to leave."

***

They'd been sitting in the middle of the cavern for hours. A few of the screechers appeared to have fallen asleep, but the rest continued to stare at them, silent and unmoving.
Grantaire didn't know how much more of this he could take. His shoulder throbbed painfully. Close inspection by candle light had revealed a nasty cut that was already coloring purple around the edges. Felix had bound it up with a piece of cloth, but they had nothing to clean it with. His back was sore, and he was thirsty. Felix sat beside him, miserable and frightened, with his arms wrapped around his knees and his head down. His eyes were closed, but Grantaire didn't think he was sleeping.
Across the cavern, water continued to drip steadily into the pool of water. It was maddening. The water looked dirty, but it was moving, draining into an underground stream, perhaps. That meant it was probably safe to drink. Assuming they could get to it without getting ripped to shreds by the screechers.
Grantaire looked at them, daring to stare one in the eye. It looked back at him, its golden eyes unblinking.
"Felix," he whispered, "I'm going to try for the water."
The priest sat up, his eyes wide with alarm. He looked from Grantaire to the pool and shook his head. "But, what if..."
"They warned us away from the opening instead of attacking us. I don't think they'll stop me. Besides, we don't have much choice. I'm not going to sit here and die of thirst."
"All right." Felix swallowed nervously. "I'm coming with you."
Slowly, Grantaire got to his feet. His back creaked in protest. He stretched carefully, easing the pain of stiff muscles. The screechers watched, but not one of them flicked an ear at his movement. He turned and helped Felix to his feet.
They tip-toed to the murky puddle like a deer to a lake surrounded by wolves. Grantaire watched the screechers, looking for some sign that they were about to attack. None came. They were allowed to reach the pool and drink from it. The water had a strange, metallic flavor, but it was refreshing. They sat down beside the pool and drank their fill.
They stayed beside the pool when they were done drinking. The screechers didn't seem to care, and Grantaire didn't see the need to scurry back to the middle of the cavern like frightened rabbits. He watched the screechers, seeking some clue to what they wanted. Were they just keeping them here until they got hungry? He thought he read curiosity in some of those strange, golden eyes, but how could he tell? He'd never paid much attention to the creatures before, and he'd never heard anyone talk about running into a lair of them. He didn't want to think about what that meant.
Time passed, and eventually Felix drifted off to sleep. Grantaire's eyes were heavy, but he forced himself to stay awake. Not that he would be able to do much if the screechers attacked, but at least he could try. He didn't want to be killed in his sleep.
Suddenly, the dozing screechers jerked and opened their eyes. All across the cavern, the creatures began stretching, flapping their wings and hissing. One of them opened its mouth wide and screeched. It flew out of the cave, followed by dozens of its fellows.
Felix sat up, awakened by the sudden noise. He looked around, terrified at the screechers hissing and flapping about the cavern.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know."
A group of the screechers landed near them, clinging from wall and ceiling. Others dropped down to perch in the dirt at their feet. They were hemmed in by glaring, yellow eyes. They backed up as far as they could without ending up in the pool of water.
"I don't like this," said Felix.
Grantaire didn't like it either. These creatures were up to something. The way they moved with such precision, signaling each other and surrounding the prisoners -- they behaved like a group of human soldiers. Grantaire had never imagined animals could be so organized.
A horde of screechers flew into the cavern. There were far more of them than had left. Just how many of these creatures lived in these caves? There had to be nearly a thousand in this cavern alone. Were there other dens like this in this maze of twisting passages?
The screechers that squatted on the ground before them shifted like the falling of a gentle wave. The movement revealed an enormous creature, twice the size of the others. It tapped its wicked talons in the dirt and studied them, a look of almost human malevolence in its golden eyes. An emerald winked brightly at its neck, fastened by some sort of leather collar.
It opened its mouth, revealing sharp fangs. "Ghat are tis?"
Grantaire stared at the creature in awe. It had spoken. This enormous screecher had spoken. Its words were harsh and guttural, and Grantaire wasn't sure what the creature was saying. But they were definitely words. Grantaire opened his mouth to answer, but he could not make a sound. Shock had frozen his body, making it impossible for him to do more than breathe. He stared at the screechers, and they stared back at him. Some of the ones that had flown in were holding things -- sharpened sticks, even a knife or two. He closed his eyes, willing the vision to go away. This was impossible. They had spent too long in these dark tunnels and were starting to hallucinate. Screechers were animals, damn it. Like bats. They didn't carry weapons. They didn't speak.
The big screecher hissed at them. "Not ligk aters," it said, shattering Grantaire's belief that this was all a dream. He glanced at Felix, who sat behind him with eyes wide, staring in horror at the screechers.
Reluctantly, Grantaire brought his gaze up to meet the big one's golden eyes. They studied him with barely suppressed malevolence and, there was no use denying it, intelligence. These so-called animals were smart, maybe as smart as people. And they outnumbered him and Felix by about five hundred to one. If there was any hope for them to get out of this alive, it would come from groveling.
He flashed a smile at the big one, hoping it meant the same thing to these creatures as it did to humans. He didn't want it (him, he mentally corrected himself) to think he was baring his teeth.
"I'm sorry." He looked around nervously at the gathered screechers, wondering if any of them could understand him. Some of them didn't seem to be paying any attention. "We're lost. We didn't mean to intrude."
The big screecher's lips curled upward, revealing more of his long, white fangs. It didn't seem pleased with Grantaire's response. "Anser! Ghat are tis?"
Felix leaned into Grantaire's shoulder. "I think," he whispered, "it wants to know who we are."
"How..."
"Yes," the screecher interrupted. Grantaire stared at it, amazed at the first word he could clearly understand. The yes was unmistakable.
The screecher bobbed its head up and down, snakelike. It looked at Felix. "Yes. Ghoo are tis?"
"Who," Grantaire repeated. Apparently, the creature couldn't manage w sounds. Maybe its fangs got in the way. Grantaire pointed at himself. "I'm Grantaire. This is Felix. A priest."
"We're lost," Felix repeated. "We didn't mean to come here. We were running from the bandits. From the other humans in these caves."
Giving Grantaire a contemptuous look, the beast moved closer to Felix. "Run from aters. Not ligk aters."
"No," said Felix, shaking his head. "We're not like the others."
The screecher leaned back on its haunches. It turned its gaze on them and sniffed the air, as if judging their worth by their scent. Considering they hadn't bathed in days, Grantaire doubted they were making a very good impression.
"Ater peoples take caves. Kill screechers. Gajdinok hide us. Deep in ground. Peoples do not find us here. Not for many nights. Now Grantaire and Felix come. Find Gajdinok. Gajdinok not happy."
Grantaire looked at the enormous screecher, guessing it referred to itself as Gajdinok. If he wasn't happy, they could be in big trouble.
"Yes, Gajdinok, you have a right to be angry. The bandits, the other peoples, they are very bad. But we're just lost travelers. If you let us go, we won't come back."
Gajdinok leaned closer, studying Grantaire with narrowed eyes. Then it began to laugh, a grating sound that sounded like a saw on wood. The other screechers joined in his laughter, their voices combining into one noise that echoed from the high walls of the cavern as if it belonged to one enormous beast.
Grantaire exchanged a worried look with Felix. The screechers' laughter was cruel and mocking. They were like two mice, live toys in a den of bored felines.
"Grantaire and Felix not go. Stay."
The other screechers hissed and bobbed their heads in agreement. Gajdinok cried out, a series of high-pitched squeals and grunts. The mass of bat-like creatures shifted, leaving a bare space along one wall. A group of them appeared behind him and Felix, flapping their wings to keep aloft, and herded them over to that spot.
"Sit," said Gajdinok. It was an order, not an offer of hospitality. Reluctantly, they sat down. Grantaire placed the candle carefully beside him. It was nearly spent, and soon they would have to light another. Gajdinok had not asked for his weapons; the screechers had little fear of a mere dagger, considering their superior numbers. But Grantaire noticed they avoided looking at the candle. If things got desperate, he might be able to use to use it as a weapon.
Two more screechers flew up to them, each one clutching a broken piece of pottery in its long talons. They set the make-shift bowls down gently in front of them, and Grantaire could see they contained water. Grantaire picked up the bowl and drank. The water was surprisingly cold and clean, much better than the murky liquid from the pond. He elbowed Felix in the side, urging him to drink. They couldn't afford to offend their hosts.
Gajdinok flew closer. He landed on the floor in front of them, folding his black wings behind him with all the grandeur of any king's mantle. As he peered up at them, Grantaire noticed flecks of green in his eyes, tarnishing the gold.
"Grantaire and Felix happy?"
Happy? Sitting in a rocky cavern in the bowels of the earth, surrounded by hundreds of apparently intelligent beasts that might decide to eat you for dinner any minute? "Oh yes," he lied. "Thank you."
Gajdinok smiled, as if recognizing the lie for what it was. "Good. Grantaire did not know screechers so smart? Gadjinok is not animal. Not bats. Gajdinok see peoples. See and learn. Learn to use things. Learn for many to be as one. Long time screechers live. Very long. Gadjinok knows peoples. Grantaire and Felix need things. Peoples always need things. Ghat Grantaire and Felix need here?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Grantaire saw Felix gripping his empty cup, his hands shaking. Did Felix guess what he had? That Gajdinok was just making sure they weren't part of a larger threat before he disposed of them? The screechers were intelligent, but no one realized that. When humans first came here, the men who became the first barons were charged with eliminating the creatures, which they did with the cold efficiency of a cat killing mice in the barn. At the time, the screechers could not talk to them and, based on what Gajdinok had said, they weren't so organized. But they could speak now, or at least some of them could. If they had wanted to reveal themselves to humans, they could have done so a long time ago. Apparently, Gajdinok had chosen to keep the screechers' intelligence a secret. Grantaire wasn't sure why. He was sure if screechers wanted to continue guarding that secret, they wouldn't hesitate to kill him and Felix. Somehow, he had to convince Gajdinok that the secret was safe with them. He had to come up with a reason that made them more useful to Gajdinok alive than dead. Surprisingly enough, the only answer that could accomplish that was the truth.
"Gajdinok is right. We do need something. Felix and Grantaire are servants of Enjolras, a man who will be king, the leader of all the peoples."
Gajdinok's eyes narrowed to luminous slits. "Grantaire lies."
"No. Enjolras will become our king when we reach San Sebastien." This was something of an assumption. Enjolras would be king if they somehow made it to San Sebastien in time, and if the Archbishop chose him. But Gajdinok couldn't know that.
"Grantaire and Felix go to big lake."
"Yes. San Sebastien is the city by the big lake." Grantaire was a little disconcerted that the screecher king knew so much. He would have to be very careful here. He could not assume the creature's ignorance on anything.
"Big lake is far. Far from caves." He narrowed his eyes. "Tis peoples crawl in caves, hunt screechers. Enjolras lead tis?"
"No." Sensing Gajdinok's dislike for the bandits, Grantaire put as much distaste into his denial as he could. "They are evil peoples who captured Enjolras, our king. We escaped from them, but we lost ourselves in your tunnels."
"Grantaire lose tis king?"
"He fell down a deep hole, into the water."
"King dead."
"No. No, I am certain he is still alive." He nudged Felix, who nodded in agreement. "Perhaps you could help us find him?"
Gajdinok laughed. "Find king? For ghat does Gajdinok need king?"
Grantaire hesitated. Everything depended on his answer. Their lives and Enjolras's were at stake here. The air in the chamber seemed heavy. His throat was dry. He lifted his cup and gulped down the rest of the water.
"King Gajdinok," he said, hoping the human his stumbling pronunciation of his name did not offend the big screecher, "you are right when you say my people think of yours as animals."
The screechers responded with an angry hissing that swirled around the cavern like a fierce wind. Gajdinok shrieked once and the noise stopped.
"But Felix and I know the truth now," Grantaire continued, trying to keep his voice calm and steady despite his fear. "And we will tell Enjolras. He is a good man, and an honest one. He will see it is wrong for us to hunt your people. Once he becomes king, he will never allow it to continue. Your people and ours will be able to live together in peace."
Gajdinok regarded him for a long time, trying to judge the truth of his words. It was the truth as Grantaire saw it. No matter what else the screechers were, they weren't animals and they shouldn't be treated as such. It would not be easy to change people's minds. Little boys grew up learning to shoot them down with sling-shots. They were seen as pests, nothing more. It would take a lot to change people's minds. But if anyone could do it, it was Enjolras.
Grantaire waited for Gajdinok to answer. Only the steady drip of water and the humans' frightened breathing broke the silence. Finally, Gajdinok asked a question.
"Tell Gajdinok, did Grantaire kill screechers?"
He thought about lying. But Gajdinok would surely see through it. Until now, he'd had no reason to think any differently than anyone else. "Yes," he admitted, wondering if it would be the death of them all. "I have killed some of your people."
The screechers hissed angrily, and this time Gajdinok did not silence them. He nodded slowly and stared at Grantaire, who remained silent. Though he felt a measure of guilt for what he now saw as little better than murder, he did not apologize or beg for forgiveness. He sensed, somehow, that it would be the wrong thing to do. An apology would seem false to Gajdinok, and that falseness would doom them more surely than anything else they could do. Instead, Grantaire met Gajdinok's gaze steadily and hoped for understanding. Gradually, the angry hissing of the screechers died down.
"Good king for peoples," said Gajdinok. "Gajdinok not believe this. But has curious. Gajdinok has need to see Enjolras. His people find your king."
Gajdinok gave a series of brief, piercing cries. As one, dozens of the screechers took wing and flew out of the cavern with a hurried flapping of wings. They were gone in seconds. Grantaire looked around to find that he and Felix were surrounded by a group of screechers hanging from the ceiling, eying them watchfully. Gajdinok was nowhere in sight.
"What do we do now?" Felix whispered.
"The only thing we can do," said Grantaire. "We wait."
A soft growling noise jolted him awake. Grantaire sat up, his stiff muscles protesting. Felix snored again, a loud rumbling. That was the growling noise he'd heard. He had fallen asleep, using the priest's shoulder as a pillow. Disturbed that he had let his guard down so completely, Grantaire looked around warily. Little had changed. The screechers still watched him, though it seemed with less diligence than before. Some of them were grooming themselves in the manner of cats, pink tongues lapping at their black fur while they hung upside down from the cavern ceiling. Others appeared to be asleep. Grantaire was amazed they could sleep upside down like that without losing their grip and falling. But then, bats did it all the time, so why shouldn't these creatures? They were much like bats physically, and they were far more intelligent. At least, Grantaire assumed so. He wondered suddenly if any animals were as stupid as he had always thought. Perhaps they were all intelligent, lacking only the ability to speak?
He sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. He was going insane. Soon he was going to start imagining that even trees were intelligent. At night, when the world was sleeping, they uprooted themselves and walked about, singing to the stars.
Felix continued to snore. His face was peaceful, bathed by the soft light. Grantaire realized the screechers had replaced the spent candle with a new one. He wondered where they had taken it from, and how they had managed to light it. He looked up at them. Except for the long talons, their hands and feet seemed almost human. Each had only three separate digits, but they were long and supple like the fingers of a human. They looked easily capable of holding tools and much more. Grantaire wondered if the screechers could learn to write.
One of them was watching him intently. It was smaller than most, but its fox-like ears were enormous. In an odd way, it was kind of cute. The way it studied Grantaire with its wide, yellow eyes reminded him of a curious child. He smiled at it.
"Hello."
The little one's ears perked up a bit. Some of the other screechers turned to look at him, but none of them moved. He wondered how many of them could speak.
"How long was I asleep?" he asked. "Have you heard from the others? Have they found Enjolras?"
Most of the screechers kept staring at him. Others went back to grooming themselves. Grantaire had no idea if they could understand him. Surely one of them could speak.
"Enjolras," he said. "Have you found him?"
They did not answer. Either they didn't understand him, or they didn't want to talk. Gajdinok might have ordered them not to. He wondered where the big screecher had gone. Grantaire was getting impatient. Enjolras might have been hurt when he fell. While they were sitting here waiting, he could be bleeding to death.
Grantaire looked down at Felix, snoring peacefully. If he was going to sit here and worry about Enjolras, he wasn't going to do it alone. He grabbed his shoulder and shook him roughly.
"Felix, wake up."
Felix jerked twice, as if in a tremor, and stopped snoring. He opened his eyes and looked at Grantaire in alarm.
"What? What's wrong?" Felix sat up slowly and looked around him, taking in the watching screechers. "Have they found Enjolras?"
"No. At least, I don't think so."
"Then why did you wake me?"
"Your snoring was getting on my nerves."
Felix frowned at him. "I was having a very pleasant dream, I'll have you know. I was sleeping in my bed at the monastery. It's a soft bed, with a goose feather pillow. I was warm and safe. I'd never embarked on this horrible journey. And I'd never met you."
"Your life must have been awfully dull before you met me."
"I like things dull."
A sudden screech followed his words. A flight of screechers poured into the cavern, shrieking and gibbering. They mingled briefly with the screechers waiting in the cavern, then soared out again just as quickly.
"What was that all about?" asked Felix.
One of the screechers flapped up and landed before them. The creature was the size of a large cat, with one ear torn, leaving only a jagged bit of flesh. "Come," it said.
Grantaire stood. Were they finally going to take them to Enjolras? He pulled Felix to his feet. "I hate to disappoint you," he said, "but it looks like things are getting exciting again."
Felix looked dubiously at the scarred creature. "Where are you taking us? Have you found Enjolras?"
It didn't answer. Instead it flapped to the entrance of the cavern and perched sideways on the rocky wall. The other screechers had gone; they were the only ones left in the huge cavern. Grantaire picked up the candle.
"Come on, Felix. Let's follow him."
The screecher led them through a series of narrow tunnels they had not yet explored. At least, Grantaire didn't think so. Many of the tunnels looked pretty much the same. Though he considered himself pretty good at finding his way around on the surface, once beneath the ground he lost all sense of direction. If the screecher hadn't kept stopping to hang from the wall until they caught up, they would have been hopelessly lost.
Following the screecher wasn't easy. Grantaire and Felix were constantly ducking to avoid low-hanging stalactites and wriggling through the narrowing passages. The screecher would hang from the wall to watch their progress with an air of impatience, but it never spoke a word. When they came to a section of tunnel that he and Felix had to get down on their knees and crawl through, Grantaire reminded the creature that there were some places humans couldn't fit. It didn't answer him, and Grantaire could only hope it was smart enough to understand. He didn't want to have to turn around and back-track. Enjolras needed them.
After what seemed like hours, the tunnels began to widen, allowing them to walk upright. Grantaire was relieved. He and Felix quickened their pace, thinking they could make better time now. But their guide began acting strangely. It stopped in the middle of a long tunnel, perching on the side of the wall. It cocked its ears, as if listening. Grantaire listened, too, wondering what the creature had heard. There were no sounds in the tunnel other than him and Felix breathing. They waited. Still, the screecher didn't move. It just hung there, listening. Grantaire stepped forward, hoping to hurry the creature along. It turned and hissed at him, baring its long teeth. Then, satisfied that Grantaire wasn't going to move any more, it cocked its head and continued its vigil.
Grantaire looked nervously at Felix, who shook his head in silent warning. The creature's odd behavior was frustrating. It was keeping them from Enjolras. But this was its home. They had to trust its instincts and assume there was a very good reason for the way it was acting. They certainly couldn't hope to find Enjolras on their own.
Finally, they started moving again. They made steady progress for a long time. The tunnels they went through sloped downward, taking them ever deeper into the earth. Despite his concern for Enjolras, Grantaire couldn't help being curious about the passages through which they traveled. Were they natural? Had the screechers managed to carve them into the mountain? They were certainly capable of wielding tools. The thought of hundreds, maybe even thousands of the creatures chipping diligently away at the rock amazed him. If they were capable of that kind of achievement, there was no telling what they might do. He made a mental note to tell Enjolras about this. After he became king, they had to turn Gajdinok and his people into their allies. They couldn't afford to have them as enemies.
Their guide stopped again. This time, they didn't have to wonder what it was listening for. They heard distant shrieks, followed by human cries of pain. Their guide began hissing. They heard the sound of running feet coming their way. Grantaire drew his dagger just as two bandits came running around the corner, wide-eyed with fear and breathing heavily. They held no weapons. One of them bled from deep scratches on his arms and face. They stopped in surprise upon seeing their way blocked.
The injured man opened his mouth to say something. He never got a chance. Like a living storm cloud, a swarm of screechers rounded the corner and descended on the bandits from behind. The creatures covered every inch of them, biting and ripping with fangs and teeth. The bandits screamed and thrashed, their horrible cries going on and on as the screechers ate them alive. Grantaire couldn't even see the bandits any more. They were nothing more than a writhing mass of black wings. He wished he couldn't hear them screaming. He had never heard a man make a sound like that. It was bestial. The mad howling of wolves. The sound of death.
The screaming stopped suddenly. The feeding screechers shifted as their prey fell to the cavern floor. Beneath them a steady river of blood flowed down the sloping tunnel, where it lapped hungrily at the edge of Grantaire's boot. He didn't move. He heard Felix retching behind him, but he didn't turn around. God help him, he couldn't turn away from the awful scene before him. He knew it would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.
Without warning, the screechers took off and flew back the way they had come. Nothing remained of the bandits but bloody skeletons and the coppery smell of blood. Here and there, a bit of cloth stuck to the bones. One ragged boot lay on its side, forgotten. The screechers had devoured everything else. Within minutes, they had eaten two men alive. Grantaire hugged himself, pulling the candle closer to his body. Suddenly, he was very cold.
Their guide shrieked, drawing their attention, and moved on down the tunnel. Shaking, Grantaire and Felix followed him.

***

When they made it to the underground river, Grantaire smiled at Felix and patted him on the shoulder. Enjolras couldn't be far. They'd been following the screecher for hours. Their supply of candles was almost gone, and they were both exhausted. Felix had been tripping over his feet for a while. Even Grantaire found it hard to keep moving.
As they got closer to the river, Grantaire held up the flickering candle to get a better look. The river that flowed here was smaller than the Ducheyen or even the Assebroek; a small boy could easily toss a rock to the other side. Though it flowed calmly before them, the enormous cavern surrounding it gave it an air of dark mystery, making Grantaire wonder what secrets lay beneath the water, slowly being carried out to sea.
Their guide chirped and flew off along the river bank. Grantaire tried to follow it, but it soon eluded the pitiful range of his candle and lost itself in the darkness of the cavern. He looked around. There was no natural light here, yet a strange, fern-like plant thrived along the banks of the river. Somewhere a frog croaked, and he could hear the ripple of fish dodging about in the water. Far above them, bats hung from the rocky ceiling and clung to enormous stalactites. Their guide was nowhere to be seen.
"Where did he go?" asked Felix. He squinted at the dark river, looking worried. Was this all some kind of trick? Had their guide brought them here only to abandon them to starvation? Grantaire didn't think so. He had seen what the screechers had done to those bandits. He and Felix could have been dealt with just as easily.
He was about to call out when they heard a loud shriek from further down the river bank. They followed the noise. Despite their anxiety for Enjolras, they shuffled along slowly. Maybe they were too tired to hurry. Maybe they were afraid of what they would find. Grantaire kept the candle before them to light their way and held on to Felix so he wouldn't trip over the rocky ground. The screecher called out again, perhaps impatient with their progress.
At last they made it to the spot where their guide waited, along with Gajdinok and several others. Enjolras lay beside them, surrounded by bulging sacks the screechers must have taken from unfortunate bandits. He wasn't moving. Grantaire held up the candle, letting the light bathe his friend's face in an angelic glow. His eyes were closed.
Grantaire looked at Gajdinok. "Is he alive?"
Gajdinok nodded, the emerald at his neck shining brightly in the glow of the candle. "Enjolras lives. It is broken."
"Broken?"
Felix pushed past Grantaire and knelt beside Enjolras. Seemingly unconcerned by the screechers that moved aside to give him room, he pulled apart his wet clothing and began feeling for injuries. Enjolras moaned softly but did not open his eyes. As he watched Felix work, frowning and muttering to himself, Grantaire felt a heavy weight settle into his chest. Had they found Enjolras only in time to watch him die?
"His arm is broken," Felix declared at last. "And some ribs, I think. But he'll be all right."
"Thank you, Gajdinok." The screecher stared at Grantaire with unnerving intensity. "You have saved our king's life. We will not forget that."
"Do not forget."
"How can we repay you?" Grantaire didn't like the gleam that appeared in Gajdinok's yellow eyes when he asked this question. Would the screecher king demand more than they had bargained for? They had no choice but to agree.
"Tell your king make promise. You not tell aters of cave, of Gajdinok. Not tell aters of screechers. Tell your king make his peoples stop killing screechers."
Grantaire didn't like the sound of that. Why did Gajdinok want to keep his people's intelligence a secret? He had a feeling there was more going on inside these tunnels than just hunting fish. The screechers might prove to be very dangerous allies.
"All right," he said. They really had no choice. "He'll do it. Enjolras will make people stop killing screechers."
Gajdinok nodded. "Your king keep promise or king die. Follow river. Leave caves."
Gajdinok and his people flew off, leaving them alone with their sleeping comrade. Grantaire sat down beside Felix. The priest was deftly wrapping Enjolras's arm in strips of clean linen he'd found in one of the sacks. Grantaire poked through the others, trying not to notice the blood stains. He found food, lanterns, empty wine skins, blankets -- everything they needed, and plenty of it. While Felix finished tending to Enjolras, he built a fire and filled the skins with water from the river.
They rested beside the fire and ate a meal of dried bread and cheese. After so many long hours of running and crawling through these dark tunnels, sitting down beside an open fire seemed like a great luxury. Grantaire lay back, resting his head on his arms, and tried to figure out what day it was. It was the eighth of October when they left Aureville. It took them three days to reach the bandit lair. That brought them to the twelfth. How many days had they spent inside the tunnels? Not able to see the sun rise, it was impossible to be sure.
"Felix, how long do you think we've been in here?"
"A month, at least."
Grantaire frowned at him. Felix was hunched up in a ball beside Enjolras, hugging his knees. His head rested wearily on his arms.
"Felix, you're not being helpful. I'm trying to figure out what day it is. Do you think we've spent one day in here or two?"
"Or three. I don't know. What difference does it make? I just want to get out of these horrible tunnels and finish this journey. I don't ever want to see those monsters again."
"I wouldn't call them monsters, Felix. They might be listening."
Wide-eyed, Felix looked around, studying the bats that flitted among the caverns to make sure they were really bats and not something more sinister. Grantaire laughed.
"Well, you're right anyway. It doesn't matter. It's either the twenty-first or the twenty-second. That leaves us, at best, seven days to make it to San Sebastien. We might be able to do that with horses. Without them, it's hopeless."
Felix looked sadly at Enjolras. "It's a pity. Enjolras is a good man. He would have made a wonderful king."
Grantaire shrugged. "And I would have made a wonderful innkeeper. But look at it this way, Felix. At least we didn't end up as good corpses."

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