The Shadowlands (9 page)

Lief knew that the beast was relishing the moment, looking forward to the chase, the kill, the certain victory. In seconds it would be upon them. In seconds…

‘Lief!’ Jasmine shrieked.

Lief looked ahead. Jasmine was standing in front of a metal door in the Factory wall. She was holding it open. Barda and Emlis were already hurrying inside.

With a roar the vraal sprang. Before it had hit the ground Lief was pounding towards the door. He reached it, shoved Jasmine inside, leaped after her and swung the door shut just as the vraal crashed against it.

The companions stood panting, their backs to the door, as the beast threw itself against the metal, hissing and roaring. They were in a square room with closed doors on all sides. One of the doors, the one to their right,
bore a large, black-painted symbol.

Jasmine ran to the door, pressed her ear against it and listened intently.

Lief looked around him. There was nowhere to hide. The room was completely empty. The walls were hard, smooth, gleaming white. The ceiling shone with cold light that seemed to have no source.

Like Fallow’s chamber in the palace, Lief thought. Instantly he cursed himself, and tried to block his mind.

Too late. Already memories of that other gleaming white room were flashing through his mind, bringing with them weakness and terror. He felt cold sweat break out on his forehead. He fought the memories back.

It was no use. His brain was seething with pictures, with sounds.

Alone and in secret, trusting in the protection of the Belt of Deltora, he had tried with all his might to destroy the dangerous, evil thing Fallow’s chamber contained.

It had been a desperate, agonising battle. He had fought it alone, as he knew he had to do, and he had lost. In the end, exhausted, weak and sickened, he had had to be content with having the room bricked up and setting guards to prevent anyone entering its hallway. Then he had tried to wipe it from his mind, forget it existed.

But he could not forget. The knowledge of the core
of darkness that lay hidden in the palace’s heart continued to torment him.

He never spoke of it. Only one person knew what he had been through in that sealed room, and that was Marilen, for there could be no secrets between them.

Marilen… Into Lief’s mind swam an image of the girl as he had last seen her—shivering, wrapped tightly in her cloak, her fearful face raised to his as she bade him farewell.

He clung to the image. Clung to it like a lifeline, using it to pull himself free of the swirling mass of fears and memories that threatened to engulf him.

He realised that Jasmine was tugging at his arm. Whispering to him urgently. Something about hiding. About—

There was a mighty crash, and the metal of the door bulged inward as the vraal thudded against it once more.

‘Lief! Guards are coming!’ Jasmine panted, as Filli squeaked frantically on her shoulder. She dragged Lief towards the door that bore the black symbol. It was open, and Barda and Emlis were already slipping through it into the room beyond.

‘There is no-one in there,’ Jasmine gabbled. ‘And I think the sign means it is forbidden to Grey Guards. That might give us some time. Make haste!’

Now Lief too could hear thudding footfalls and shouting voices coming towards them from somewhere deep in the building. He hurtled through the open door, with Jasmine close behind him.

A
s Jasmine pushed the door shut, Lief stood with Barda and Emlis staring, amazed, at the vast hall they had entered. It was as hard white and as brilliantly lit as the room they had just left, but it was far, far larger. It was filled with a low humming drone and a slow, thick, bubbling, popping sound, like the sound of cooking porridge. The air was slightly steamy and very warm, and there was a strange odour that reminded Lief a little of the smell of hot iron.

The room was filled with long metal containers on short legs. The containers were neatly spaced, one behind the other, and each stretched almost all the way across the room. From the door, Lief could not see what was inside them.

He took a step towards the closest one, then froze. Heavy boots had pounded into the room on the other side of the door. Rough voices were shouting.

‘The door’s bent. Something’s been trying to get in.
A gang of Wild Ones, no doubt. Get a look, Bak 3.’

There was the sound of the metal door unlatching. Then there was a yell and a thundering crash as the door was slammed shut again.

‘Vraal!’ several voices shouted amid the shuddering thumps and bangs of the beast attacking the door again.

Amazingly, the Guards still had not caught the companions’ scent, and had not guessed that the vraal was pursuing intruders. Lief felt Jasmine touch his arm. She put her finger to her lips and beckoned. Then slowly, very quietly, she began to move further into the room.

‘It’s not going to go away!’ shouted a voice from the other side of the door. ‘Call the Perns!’

‘No! We can handle it on our own!’ another voice objected. ‘We have the new sparking rods, haven’t we? Now’s our chance to use them!’

The Guards were still concentrating on the vraal.

When they have driven it away we can escape, Lief thought. But Jasmine is right to move. We are too exposed standing here. We must find a safe place to hide while we wait.

He tiptoed after Jasmine, with Barda, who was half-carrying Emlis, following closely.

But as they reached the first of the metal containers, they all stopped dead. The container was divided into ten separate sections. Inside each compartment was what looked like a thick, slowly bubbling soup. The stuff was greyish white in colour, and filled with strangely-shaped lumps.

‘What
is
this?’ Barda muttered, wrinkling his nose.

‘It does not matter,’ whispered Jasmine, dodging around the corner of the container and moving on. ‘Do not stop. There is a door at the back of the room. Let us—’

Her hand flew to her mouth and she made a choking sound.

Lief hurried to her side with Barda and Emlis. And when he saw what Jasmine had seen, his stomach turned over.

The compartments in the second tray were half full of the simmering grey-white soup. But floating in the liquid were smooth, grey, featureless objects with heads, bodies, arms, legs…

Barda cursed under his breath. Emlis hid his face in his hands. Jasmine’s face was distorted with horror. ‘Dead people!’ she choked. ‘Dead bodies dissolving…’

‘No!’ Lief had been moving along the tray, and he had seen what the others had not. Two words engraved on the metal side.

‘They are not dissolving,’ he said huskily, as he moved back to his friends. ‘They are
forming.
These are Grey Guards. They are not born, but
grown
! Here, in the Factory!’

He stabbed a shaking finger back towards the engraved words. ‘We know that Grey Guards are always in groups of ten. Ten identical brothers, with the same
name, who work and fight together. Do you not see? Every one of these trays is a pod! This is the Carn pod.’

Barda gritted his teeth. ‘The Carns are out in the garbage mound, Lief! How could they be here also?’

‘Because—’ Lief began.

Then, suddenly, the door at the back of the room began to open.

Like a flash, the companions crouched behind the container.

‘… just a wild vraal, it seems,’ a young woman’s voice said. ‘The Baks will take care of it.’

‘Or
it
will take care of
them,’
an older male voice sneered in reply. ‘The present Baks are already ten days past their fail date. They are starting to make mistakes. And even without that, the Bak model was never up to standard, in my opinion.’

Footsteps sounded on the hard floor. Peering through the legs of the containers, Lief saw two pairs of white-booted feet pacing slowly across the back of the room, inspecting the last row of compartments. He also saw that the door had not swung shut, but still hung half-open.

‘These new Baks are almost ready,’ the woman said gently, after a moment. Her voice seemed familiar to Lief, but surely that was impossible. She was clearly a Shadow Lord servant.

‘Not before time,’ the man snapped. ‘I told you! Guard supplies are running dangerously low. When we come to the Carns you will see how bad things are. We
had to dispose of the old Carns weeks ago, while the new ones were barely formed!’

Lief felt Jasmine and Barda’s eyes upon him and knew that his companions had at last understood. Grey Guards, made only to serve, made to be cruel, unquestioningly obedient, without a trace of warmth or pity, had only a limited life. When they began to wear out, they were simply thrown away and replaced with identical models.

No wonder this room is forbidden to them, Lief thought. Blindly obedient they might be, but even
they
might react badly if they saw their replacements steadily growing in here.

The white boots turned and began to move back across the room again. The newcomers were inspecting another row of emerging Guards.

Cautiously, Lief, Barda, Jasmine and Emlis began crawling forward, keeping close to the containers. Moving was a risk, but it was a risk they had to take. If they remained where they were, discovery was certain.

Fortunately, the inspectors were too interested in their work, and their conversation, to notice the tiny, shuffling sounds from the other side of the room.

‘These Perns are growing more slowly than the charts predict,’ the woman commented, as the feet reached the end of the second-last row.

‘Well, it is not my fault!’ exclaimed her companion. ‘The power was cut twice yesterday.’ His voice took on a complaining tone. ‘It is all the fault of the Conversion
Project! It has taken too many materials and far too much of the master’s attention of late, in my opinion.’

Conversion Project
? Lief paused, holding his breath, listening hard. The inspectors had moved forward to the next row and had started pacing slowly back towards the companions’ side of the room. It was dangerous to wait, but he had to hear this.

‘You seem to have many
opinions,
3-19,’ the woman said, her soft voice hardening. ‘If I were you, I would take care.’

‘What do you mean?’ the man asked peevishly.

‘Why do you think the Conversion Project became of first importance to the master, you fool?’ snapped the woman, finally losing patience. ‘It is because the recent disaster in Deltora made him lose faith in the whole idea of Grade 3 Ols. In
you
and your kind, 3-19!’

Lief’s heart thudded. The being called 3-19 was a Grade 3 Ol! An example of the most perfect, the most dangerous, of the Shadow Lord’s evil shape-changers. Able to mimic humans so perfectly that they could live among them without detection.

Who—or what—was the other speaker then? He burned to see what the two looked like, but did not dare lift his head.

‘The master has begun to think that the Grade 3s were a mistake,’ the woman was continuing. ‘Too like humans. Prone to pride, curiosity, weakness and disobedience. And you, 3-19, seem to be proving his point!’

With that, she strode rapidly ahead of her companion. Lief slid forward and ducked hastily out of the side passage just in time to avoid being discovered.

He could see the crouched forms of Barda, Jasmine and Emlis a few rows ahead of him. He could also see the white-clad legs of the mysterious woman, further towards the back of the room.

With a thrill of horror, Lief saw that a corner of Emlis’s green cloak was trailing into the passage. If the woman looked ahead, looked down…

But she seemed to be in no mood to notice her surroundings. One of her feet was tapping impatiently as 3-19 hurried to join her, murmuring apologies and explanations.

‘… did not mean anything by it,’ Lief heard the Ol say. ‘I would never question the master’s judgement.’

‘I thought that was exactly what you
were
doing!’ snapped the woman, moving into the next row of emerging Grey Guards. ‘The Conversion Project is the way of the future, 3-19. As you will find out, very soon.’

‘Soon?’ gulped 3-19, thoroughly frightened now. ‘But I thought—’

‘All errors in the process have been corrected,’ the woman said coldly. ‘Do you see any fault in
me
?’

There was a moment of stunned silence.

‘I—I did not know you were one of them,’ faltered 3-19 at last.

‘Well, I am!’ snapped the woman. ‘Now! Explain to me why these Krops seem thinner than they should be.’

They were moving towards the other side of the room once more. Lief, Barda, Jasmine and Emlis slid out of hiding and began crawling forward as rapidly as they could.

In moments they had drawn almost level with the two inspectors, who by now had almost reached the end of the Krop Pod. Now was the most dangerous time. One by one the companions crossed the gap between containers. They would be in clear view of the two standing at the far end, should either of them turn.

But neither did. Glancing sideways as he scooted from shelter, Lief caught a brief glimpse of two white-clad figures, one tall, one short and slender, standing close together at the end of the container. The short one was consulting a chart. The tall one was bending to turn one of the knobs mounted on the container’s shining metal.