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hall, telling her that she was nearing her goal. Tannim followed flowed, actually; for a mortal,
he was surprisingly graceful. A little knife in his hand told her that he was not as guileless as
he looked; she wondered where he'd hidden it. A leg sheath, perhaps?
She motioned him to wait as they neared the door to the kitchen. She straightened and concentrated
for a moment, shutting her eyes as she shifted her form.
When she opened them, she was quite a bit shorter, and her neck strained from the odd angle she
was forced to hold her head at. Never mind; she wouldn't have this form for long. She glanced back
at Tannim and grinned a little at the dumbfounded expression on his face.
Well, it probably wasn't every day he watched a "human" woman shift into a hunchbacked female
troll.
Now, if luck is on my side this little while more, every servant in the Hall will have fled to
places of safety while their betters are squabbling.
She shuffled into the kitchen door as if she had every right to be there which in this servant-
form, she theoretically did. The strange mix of smells nauseated her for a moment until she dimmed
that particular sense down to something bearable. Some of Madoc's allies and servants ate
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perfectly palatable foods. But then there were creatures like that ogre
Best not think about what might be floating in the soup kettle on the hearth. Not all the bodies
from midnight gang fights on the streets of big cities ended up in the hands of the coroner. Not
all the old winos who vanished in the night were ever accounted for.
Enough; her guess was correct: the kitchen was empty. The work tables were clean, since the
evening meal was long since over, but the soapy water and pottery shards on the floor and the
heaps of soiled dishes showed that cleanup had not been completed when the servants learned of
their masters' quarrels. They might be routed out and sent back to work, but not within the next
hour.
She shifted back to her preferred form and waved Tannim in, then headed to the doorway on the
opposite side of the room. If it had been gloomy in the hallway, it was positively dark in the
kitchen, and hot as Hades. All the light came from the fires in the two fireplaces, and both put
out enough heat to melt lead on the hearthstones.
She wrestled with the bar across the door for a moment, then it came free; she lifted it and
pulled the latch, slipping out into the eternal dusk outside. Tannim followed, and stood looking
cautiously around as she closed the door behind them.
They were in what would have been the kitchen garden in the manor-house that this hall had been
copied from. Here Underhill, in Unseleighe lands, where there was no reason to grow things for a
purpose, this was simply a rank and weed-filled annex to the main garden. Black vines covered with
decaying leaves clung to the walls, their branches infesting the brickwork. Where plots of herbs
and vegetables would have been, spiky, gray weeds and limp, dispirited grasses attempted to choke
the life out of each other. Trees reached clawlike branches against the deep gray sky beyond the
weedy plots, marking the edge of the "pleasure gardens."
But Shar's interest lay here, not out there. Food for Madoc, his guests, and the horde of servants
had to come from somewhere, and it was not from anywhere within his realm. Instead, there was a
Gate out here, a Gate set to a neutral area where Madoc's servants could obtain the needed
foodstuffs. It would probably be a fairly unpleasant place to visit, but Shar didn't intend to be
there for long.
She signaled Tannim to follow her, across the garden to the wooden platform and arched roof that
marked this Gate position. Somewhat to her surprise, it was not guarded; a dropped spear proved
that the goblin that usually guarded this Gate had deserted his post. Beside the platform were
burlap bags full of garbage, and it occurred to her then that the Gate could be as useful for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]