Read The Last Protector Online
Authors: Daniel C. Starr
"Go in peace!” The voice of Rosaiah, speaking with an authority that surprised even Scrornuck, boomed across the Square. A Guard started to protest, but the Priest overruled him. “This is a Temple matter!"
Rosaiah then pointed a finger at Scrornuck. “You may go, but hear my words: from this moment you are cut off from the people of Spafu, until you come of your own free will and make your sacrifice. Now depart!"
Before Scrornuck could respond Jape jabbed him hard in the ribs. “You will keep quiet, Mister Saughblade!” The voice left no room for debate. Scrornuck followed meekly, saying nothing until they were safely in the Guest Quarter.
"Cut off from the people of Spafu,” Jape mused as they walked down the quiet street to their inn, “I wonder what that means."
"Maybe,” Scrornuck said hopefully, “it means the pompous ass will leave me alone."
"What a miserable hour to get up,” Scrornuck grumbled. He balanced carefully on the balcony railing, a coil of thin, strong rope over his shoulder.
"We need to do this while it's still dark,” Jape replied.
"Well, here goes.” Scrornuck curled his toes just so, letting the boots lift him to the inn's roof. After taking a moment to appreciate the view of moonlit rooftops and the hint of light on the eastern horizon, he lowered the rope and hauled Jape up.
"Let's go,” Jape said, “we've only got a few minutes."
Scrornuck lay down on the roof and carefully squeezed Ol’ Red's grip. The sword's fibers formed a translucent, faintly glowing dish fifteen feet across. He shifted his fingers, and a few fibers slithered across the roof to connect with Jape's softscroll. “You really think this will work?"
"We have the codes; might as well try,” Jape said, staring intently at the softscroll. “Aim for the second star on the right, down a bit, hair to the left,
there!"
"Got it!” Scrornuck felt a subtle change in the texture of Ol’ Red's grip which lasted only a second. “Just lost it."
Jape nodded. “It's tumbling. This may take a while. Let me know if you get tired."
"You'll hear me snoring."
After several minutes, Jape announced, “I have a lock. Three percent power, no fuel—it'll be tricky.” His brow furrowed with concentration, he tapped the scroll furiously. “Command sent, shooting picture—
now!
One, two, three, dump data. You can relax now, Mister Saughblade.” Scrornuck released his grip, and the ghostly dish vanished as he got to his feet.
"Hi, guys!” Nalia's head appeared above the top of the wall. “I saw this rope by the window and thought I'd see where it went. Whatcha doing?"
"Getting proof that we're on the right track,” Jape said. “It was tricky, but we got a picture from the weathersat.” As Scrornuck and Nalia gathered round, he pointed to a series of gray blotches on the softscroll. “The forest, the desert, the grasslands. This bright spot is Taupeaquaah. And down here—” He pointed to a faint-but-clear point of blue-violet light in the lower left of the picture. “This is the Orb, right where I expected."
"Alpine Lake?” Nalia asked.
Jape nodded and tapped more buttons, causing his makeshift map to overlay the satellite photo. The purple spot was dead centered in the fuzzy blob marking the winter sports complex. “The chase is on,” he said. “I had a hunch Draggott would march his soldiers through the night—which means they should just be arriving.” He slid the scroll into a pocket of his cape. “I love it when things fall together."
They shinnied down the rope and spent a few minutes in the suite getting cleaned up before heading to the restaurant. It being Sunday, Scrornuck put on a real shirt with sleeves instead of the “REQUIRED” rag. “Best seats in the house, Jeeves!” he called to the headwaiter as they entered.
To their surprise, the waiter turned his back and walked away. “I guess we have to find our own table.” Scrornuck selected one with a nice view of the dark city and seated Jape and Nalia. They waited for the server to come. And waited. And waited some more. And still more after that, but nobody approached.
"I'm getting a bad feeling about this,” Jape said softly, getting up to approach the headwaiter. After a few moments of animated conversation, he returned and announced, “Well, we now know what it means to be ‘cut off from the people of Spafu.’ You have been shunned, Mister Saughblade—the Spafuists have been forbidden to acknowledge your existence or speak with you."
"Good! I'm sick of listening to them."
"Speaking includes commerce. They won't serve you, and they won't serve us since we're with you. We might as well be going."
Scrornuck kicked the chair away as he got up. “I am just about ready to..."
"Leave quietly,” Jape finished, pointing to a Guard who was looking with interest at Scrornuck. “We're in enough trouble already."
"It's
still
a miserable hour to be up,” Scrornuck grumbled as they walked toward Temple Square. “Especially with a ten-mile hike to breakfast!"
"At least we'll get past the Temple without you and Rosaiah having another squabble,” Jape said.
"Uh-oh,” Nalia mumbled.
They stepped through the Guest Gate. “Huh—oh, shee
-yit!"
Scrornuck said. The Square was packed with people, even more than the previous Sunday. Heaps of furniture and clothing stood by the altars, and all the priests stood at attention beneath the Dragon statue's outstretched wings.
"Sunrise service,” she said. “Everybody presents their special offerings when the sun touches the tip of Spafu's nose. Then they spend the rest of the day partying."
Seconds later, the first sunbeam struck the Dragon's nose, and with a great cheer the faithful rushed to begin their sacrifices.
Jape sighed. “Well, since they're shunning us, we should be able to sneak across without being noticed."
Scrornuck felt a faint vibration at his back—the Setron, which he'd tied to the small pack that contained their clothing for the trip. Curious, he placed his hand on the grip and let the instrument speak to him. Slowly, an ear-to-ear grin spread across his face. “Can you carry this until we're on the Cast side?” he asked, handing Nalia the pack.
She shrugged. “Sure."
"Do I want to know what you've got in mind?” Jape asked.
"I doubt it.” Scrornuck opened a small compartment at the base of the fretboard and took out the tiny wireless microphone that he somehow knew would be there. Then he slung the instrument over his shoulder like a big, two-handed broadsword. “If it's a war Rosey wants, it's a war he'll get!"
"I could order you to come quietly."
"You could, but are you sure I'd obey?” Scrornuck clipped the mike to his collar.
Jape sighed. “Just don't get yourself sacrificed."
"This is Taupeaquaah—they'd never burn up a guest."
"I hope you're right."
Scrornuck waited in the shadows near the Gate until Jape and Nalia crossed the Square. Then he strode boldly through the crowd until he stood before the High Priest, almost directly beneath the Dragon statue's head. Sticking two fingers in his mouth, he gave a loud whistle. “Hey, Rosey!"
The High Priest gazed down benevolently. “Ah, my stiff-necked pupil! Has the mighty Spafu opened your heart at last?"
"What's my heart got to do with it? I thought the lizard wanted my feet."
"Your heart must be willing. And the Scroll of Wisdom tells us the fastest way is through your stomach.” As if to signal its agreement, Scrornuck's belly released an ominous rumble.
"I think,” Scrornuck said, glancing about to make sure every eye was on him, “if your lizard wants my boots, he's just gonna have to tell me himself!” He curled his toes and jumped, soaring to the height of the Temple roof. At the peak of his leap he threw a leg over the Dragon's neck and straddled the statue. It swayed gently under him, and he realized it must be made of a material far flimsier than stone, probably plastic over a metal framework. All the better, he thought as he pulled out Ol’ Red and stuck the blade deep into the Dragon's left ear. He gave the Setron's grip a gentle squeeze with his other hand, and his voice, lowered to a deep growl and amplified by the instrument, boomed across the Square. Worshipers fell to their knees as the Friendly Dragon appeared to speak. “Ooh, ah, that feels so good! How come I had to wait a century for somebody to clean out my ears?"
Flames and smoke from the Dragon's mouth swirled around Scrornuck as he withdrew the sword. A big chunk of whitish-yellow plastic foam was skewered on its end. “You know, Rosey,” he shouted down in his own voice, “you ought to take better care of your god—look at this waxy yellow buildup!” A flick of the blade launched the plastic lump onto the High Altar, where it burst into flames, filling the Temple porch with thick, foul-smelling smoke.
Scrornuck's boots sang their song as he dropped from the Dragon's neck and landed halfway up the Temple steps, his back to Rosaiah and the priests. “Hey, lizard-breath!” he called over his shoulder, “I've got a message for you!” He bent over, lifted the back of his kilt, and mooned the assembled clergy on the Temple porch. Hearing a few laughs from the spectators and many screams of “blasphemy!” from the priests, he sprinted down the steps, across the Square and into the Cast Quarter.
He rejoined Jape and Nalia outside the
If We Don't Have It, You Don't Need It Convenience Emporium,
which was no more willing to serve them than the restaurant had been. Worse, the little nook outside the store refused to give Nalia her weekly allowance when she inserted her Residence Pass. She held a hand out to Jape, palm up. “Our deal says you cover my expenses.” He sighed and reached into his purse as they headed for the West Gate.
They passed through the Gate and entered the grand plaza outside. To Scrornuck's surprise, several shanties made of scrap lumber stood against the white city wall, homes to a few dozen shabbily dressed beggars. “Now there's a sorry sight,” he said.
"Careful, Mister Saughblade,” Jape said. “Don't forget where we are. The beggars might be just another part of the show."
"Squatters and vagrants,” Nalia said disdainfully. “The Guards crack down on them during the Sacrifice, because they've been known to steal offerings."
"Aw, shit,” Scrornuck said. “This town can afford to throw brand-new clothes on the fire, but these guys walk around in rags? How long since they've eaten, anyway?"
"A few days, I imagine,” she said. “What's it matter?"
"It matters.” The famines of his homeland had left Scrornuck with a soft spot for the hungry and displaced. “Jape,” he said, holding out a hand. Saying nothing, Jape gave him a handful of silver coins. Scrornuck gave each beggar a coin, receiving a gracious bow in return. By the time he handed out the last coin, he wore a broad smile.
His smile didn't last long. As the Squatters tried to enter the city, the two Guards promptly confiscated their money and turned them away. “Shit,” Scrornuck muttered. He strode angrily to the gate and stood nose-to-nose with the Guards. “You have something that isn't yours,” he said firmly.
"It's ours now—urgh!” one said, stopping abruptly as Scrornuck grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed, hard. Against his will, the Guard's hand turned palm-up and opened, exposing the silver coins. Jape swept the coins back into his purse. The second Guard required no persuasion; as soon as Scrornuck looked him in the eye, he quickly poured his portion of the money into Jape's purse as well.
As Scrornuck detained the Guards, Jape distributed the money to the Squatters. They thanked their two benefactors, made insulting gestures to the Guards, and hurried into the city for a meal.
"Don't,” one of the Guards said as the first Squatter passed by, “he's the one who's been sh—"
Scrornuck's hand moved in an instant to the Guard's throat. “Loose lips sink ships,” he whispered. The Guard took the hint and was silent as the last of the Squatters hurried through the Gate.
Shaking a little dust from his feet, Scrornuck released the Guards and the three continued, unmolested, across the plaza. Rumbling belly or no, he was happy to be leaving.
"Squatters and vagrants,” Jape muttered under his breath. “Maybe UniFlag didn't think of everything after all."
They made a quick stop at the Sunset Stone, Scrornuck and Jape slipping into the hidden storeroom while Nalia waited in the plaza. Seeing no need for two instruments, Scrornuck stashed his bagpipes in the storage pack and loaded the traveling pack with tents, sleeping bags, coffee, and an extra package of preserved survival rations, just in case their shunning reached beyond the city limits of Taupeaquaah.
"Why can't she come in here with us?” he asked, looking through the Stone's translucent wall at Nalia, who paced impatiently. “There's plenty of room for three."
"I don't want her to see how much weaponry we're packing,” Jape replied, opening a box of armaments. “She's nervous enough, and I don't want her to decide she's safer taking her chances in town.” He pulled off his cape and wrapped a network of tubes and wires around his right sleeve. “I'm edgy enough myself. We don't know exactly who we're up against, and we don't know how many Guards are working for Tremmlowe and Draggott."
"We could take some really serious stuff,” Scrornuck said, lifting a shoulder-fired energy cannon.
"Too heavy,” Jape said, fastening a second network of tubes around his left arm. “We need to move quickly. Look how the situation's deteriorating.” He held up his ring. The jewel shone a deep red.
"Uh-huh.” Scrornuck glanced up as he closed the pack, and saw Nalia climbing the outside of the stone, finding tiny hand- and foot-holds. “We'd better get going,” he said. “She's getting antsy."
"Yeah, let's go.” Jape slipped his arms through the sleeves of his outer cape, hiding the weaponry. He reached for the little whistle that would allow them to pass through the Stone's wall.
"Wait a second.” Scrornuck put a hand on Jape's shoulder. “I want to try something.” He gripped the Setron, feeling its gentle vibration as he adjusted it to produce exactly the right note, the one that turned the Stone's surface milky and translucent.