Читать «Centaur Aisle» онлайн - страница 185

“We have to get you safely out of here, sir,” Dor said. “The Land of Xanth needs you.”

“I have every present intention of returning,” King Trent said with a smile. “I am now merely pondering mechanisms. I can deal with the Avars readily enough, provided I can get close enough to them with my magic power intact. That means I shall have to remain with Magician Amolde.”

“And with me,” Queen Iris said. “To keep you invisible. And the ogre, to open doors.”

“And me,” Irene said loyally.

“You I want safely out of the way,” her father said.

There was a bubbling noise. “The oil!” Grundy cried. “We’ve got to move!”

Smash went into action. He started bashing out a new channel.

They became invisible. But Dor had a mental picture of where each person was; King Trent, Amolde, and the Queen were near the ogre, ready to follow in his new tunnel and avoid the spilling on. But Irene and the golem were on the far side of the chamber. The oil was already flowing between them and the ogre. They would be trapped-and as the centaur moved away, they would become visible and vulnerable, even if they avoided oil.

Dor ran across to pick up a fragment of rubble. He tossed it into the flowing oil. He grabbed more chunks and tossed them, forming a dam. But it wasn’t enough; he wasn’t sure Irene could make it through.

Then the pieces started flying into place at double the rate he was throwing them. Someone else was helping. Dor could not tell who, or communicate directly; he simply continued tossing stones, damming off the hot oil. Soon it formed a reluctant pool. Dor filled in the crevices of the dam with sand, and the way was clear. The oil ploy had been abated, and Irene could cross to safety.

Now a troop of guards charged down the steps, swords drawn.

They wore heavy boots, evidently to protect them from the oil they thought would be distracting their quarry. It should have been a neat double trap. They didn’t know the quarry had departed.

Still, the Avars could use their bows to fire arrows up the new tunnel, doing much harm. Dor leaped across to guard the tunnel entrance, trusting that the others had by now safely passed through it.

An invisible guardian could hold them off long enough, perhaps.

Then he saw his own arms. The magic aisle had left him vulnerable!

The soldiers spied him in the torchlight. They whirled to attack him.

Another sword flashed beside him. King Omen! He was the other person who had helped dam the hot oil!

No words were exchanged. They both knew what had to be done; they had to guard this entrance from intrusion by the enemy until King Trent could handle his task.

The ogre’s new passage was too narrow to allow them to fight effectively while standing inside, and the dungeon chamber was too broad; soldiers could stand against the far wall, out of sword range, and fire their arrows down the length of the tunnel. So Dor and Omen moved out into the chamber, standing back to back near the wilting pie tree, and dominated the entire chamber with their two swords. Dor hoped King Omen knew how to use his weapon.