Gerart Bromin sat on the leather couch and waited for Dr. Bloor. Fifteen minutes passed. Then an hour. Outside it grew darker, and soon the veil of night was dropped on Hixa Vedek Eve.
"Psst over here," said a small voice in Ellurian, from somewhere on the other side of the room, "I'm over here. Come here, quick!" Bromin stood and wandered around the room, toward where he thought the voice was coming from. "Underneath the liquor cabinet," said the voice. Bromin pulled aside the liquor cabinet to reveal the face of a small boy peering up at him through a vent. It was the same boy who had taken his horse earlier. "Hello there," Bromin said. "You're name's not Bromin, is it?" asked the boy, "It's Ruflin. Charles Ruflin, right?" Bromin knelt down next to the grate and put a finger up to his lips. "That's a secret," he said, then winked. "How do you know that name?" "I used to tend your horse back in the Emil War, remember?" Bromin's memory of the boy flicked on like an oil lamp. "Yes, yes! Arthi, right? My, you've grown quite a bit. I didn't even recognise you." Arthi was quiet for a moment. Shuffling was heard in the vent. "I guess I should tell you then..." his voice tapered off. "Arthi, what?" Bromin leaned closer to the vent. "He's gonna have you killed," Arthi finally said, quietly, "You gotta get out of there cuz Dr. Bloor thinks you're in his way." Bromin was stunned for a moment, perplexed. "Any ideas?" Arthi looked hesitant for a moment, diverted his eyes, then met Bromin's with his again. "The fireplace." "Yes, that might work," Bromin nodded, "Have my horse ready for me at the north wall, one last time?" "Sure thing, Sir Charles." Bromin could hear Arthi scampering off back wherever it was he'd come from. Bromin quickly filled his arms with bottles of booze from the liquor cabinet and headed toward the fireplace. He set the bottles down on the floor, then selected a peticularly tasty-looking bottle of 979 Garuskan rockscotch. He took a swig of rocscotch and tossed the rest of the bottle into the fire. One by one bottles went into the fire, crashing and soaking the logs until the fire was smoldering, smelling of ashes and a drunk's breath. Bromin crawled into the fireplace and began to climb up the chimney, away from the dim light that came in from the fireplace and up toward the black unknown. There were groves cut into the inside of the chimney, either by chimney sweeps or from some previous excape attempt. Either way, they were a blessing, and Bromin made reasonably good time on his way up the chimney. Soon he could feel the winter breeze and see stars out of the twin holes at the summit. Bromin paused as he heard noises below him. He heard some talking that he couldn't make out, followed by the unmistakable sound of a sword unsheathing. He quickened his pace up toward the top of the chimney. "Ulinka!" said a voice from below him. Bromin didn't recognise the word, but he imagined it was Teldanari for "kill the guy in the chimney". As Bromin reached the peak of the chimney, his heart sank. There were two holes at the top of the chimney, both too small for even his head to fit through. But the boy had mentioned the chimney for a reason, he thought. He began to feel around the inside of the chimney, hoping to find some flaw, loose brick, or secret passage. From below him came the grunting sounds of a man climbing up the chimney after him. -- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://www.dragonmyst.f2s.com/lists.php3
