BLUEMANTLE by Karen Langston (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud TXT) 📕

into the chamber and smiling warmly. He held out his hand. “I’m Estrin. Welcome, Grey.”

Dent shook his hand, bewildered by the agency of instinct. “Pleased to meet you. So, Estrin, can you help me?”

“I’m afraid I’ve bad news. Bend Sinister and his players have left. As have Pale Dexter and Chief. Their retinues, too. All gone.”

“Gone? No…”

“Yesterday, early. Their departure was a forced hand. Hopefully it will prove a fortuitous one in the future, once they’re established elsewhere.”

“I… I have to see him.”

“I’m sorry, friend. It’s been well over twenty-four hours since they left.”

“Where? Where have they gone?”

“I don’t know. They’ll send word once they’ve found somewhere to settle. Could be some time, though. It took them forever to find Wydeye, so they say. We’ve got to sit tight and wait. It’s the only way.”

“No…” Dent shook his head, unbelieving, wishing he’d acted on impulse the moment he felt it. “I must find him. Which way did they go?”

“I’ve no idea. It’d be impossible to track them down. They’ll make sure of that. And besides, once they cleared the Heights, they could’ve headed in any direction. All I can show you is the escape passage they used. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine.”

“I’m learning to trust mine. Please, show me the way.”

Estrin hesitated only briefly before yielding to Dent’s determined expression. “I still think you’re best to wait with the rest of us. But, if you insist…” He handed Dent a dynamo torch and kept hold of a second, pumping the handle. “Follow me.” He turned and led the way through the narrow opening.

After several metres of squeezing through tight bookends of rock, they entered a cavernous space, cathedral-high. Dent trailed behind in awe, distracted by the enormity of the cave that dwarfed them both.

Ever descending, they moved through dark passageways and smaller caves, past traces of domesticity hinting at the home it had so recently been: carved goblets, blind gas lamps, books, a pair of leather sandals. Estrin picked up a paperback and stuffed it in his shorts.

Eventually, they reached a wall of apparently solid rock. “They left through here,” said Estrin.

Dent looked from Estrin, to the wall and back, his eyes asking the question where words failed.

Estrin grinned. “I know,” he said. “Good, isn’t it?” He ran his hands over the stone, his fingertips gently reading surface texture as if it were a Braille love letter. His hands gripped two imperceptible holds. Then he locked his arms straight and stood, legs braced, pushing his bodyweight into the wall.

Dent observed, mystified at first, then dumbfounded as the stone began to shift. Inch by grinding inch, a lozenge of limestone receded, leaving a coffin mould gradually sinking into the wall. Then the stone gave, revealing a slice of black, through which Estrin disappeared. Dent followed.

On the other side, their torches illuminated a passageway of a different character. Low and angular, this was a tunnel, chiselled into the mountain’s rock-flesh. Estrin crouched down, his head level with the tunnel’s mouth. “They’ve spent years making these escape shafts. Just in case. And thank crow they did. It’s how they dodged the A at the Contest. And with Special Forces guarding the visible entrances, these last resorts were their only way out. They used this one yesterday morning.”

Dent stared into the handcut hollow and the blackness beyond their torches’ reach. He anticipated the slow, difficult crawl ahead. “Thank you for your help,” he said, turning back to Estrin. “What will you do?”

“I’ll wait. Where you found me. In case others come.”

“But the A… I saw them up there. They’re getting ready to come in. If not today, then surely tomorrow. I… I’ve heard rumours. They’re planning to flush the caves. Toxic gas. Apparently.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“So, you can’t stay. You’ve got to get out.”

“No.”

“What do you mean? They’ll kill you.”

“I offered to stay, so that’s what I’ll do. Even if it was one person, it would have been worth it. As it turns out, you’re the second. More may come. Wella, the one before you, she’ll spread the word. The Scene will live on, elsewhere.”

“Surely that means you’ve done your job?”

“I’m the rear guard. A self-appointed pursuivant, defending the door. I will not desert my post.” He pulled out a pencil from his shorts’ pocket and opened the paperback he had stuffed into his waistband. He ripped out the first page and wrote on it. Then he folded the scrap of paper and handed it to Dent. “If you find Bend Sinister, or any of the Troubadours, please give them this. It’s important.” Then he smiled with pride and placed his hand on Dent’s shoulder. “You should go, brother. I don’t know how you’ll ever find them, but I admire your determination to try. This tunnel is over two miles long. Take it slow. Oxygen levels will be low. I’m afraid I need the torch back, so you’ll be crawling blind. But you can’t get lost; there’s only one way forward.”

Dent returned the torch and shook Estrin’s hand. “I’ve not witnessed bravery for so long, I can’t remember. You are doing a remarkable thing.”

“Go,” he said. “I hope to crow you find them.”

Dent nodded, then turned to face the tunnel. On hands and knees, head low, redundant eyes closed, he began the long, black crawl out of Lyun Mountain.

–

Blix stared at the bank of monitors, her heart racing, fighting the urge to itch. “Look at them,” she said to Wulfwin. “Like flies around a corpse.”

They were stood in the main surveillance room in the Comms Control Centre: a tech-manifestation of the vision captured by the Authority’s compound eyes. Fifty monitors displayed as many different scenes around the city – a greyscale montage of real-time action, exposing unsuspecting citizens with their illusion of freedom.

Blix’s stare shifted between four of the screens. They revealed groups of people, loitering. “An agitated swarm,” she said. “Poised. Your assessment, Commander.”

Wulfwin stood two steps behind her, watching the screens with weary disinterest. “A feeble attempt at making