Pyramids

The figure touched a can to the bolts and hinges of the next door and pushed it open. The flare from the narrow window illuminated a middle-aged man, seated cross-legged on the floor.

'I'm here to rescue you,' said the demon. The man peered up at him.

'Rescue?' he said.

'Yes. Why are you here?'

The man hung his head. 'I spoke blasphemy against the king.'

'How did you do that?'

'I dropped a rock on my foot. Now my tongue is to be torn out.'

The dark figure nodded sympathetically.

'A priest heard you, did he?' he said.

'No. I told a priest. Such words should not go unpunished,' said the man virtuously.

We're really good at it, Teppic thought. Mere animals couldn't possibly manage to act like this. You need to be a human being to be really stupid. 'I think we ought to talk about this outside,' he said. 'Why not come with me?'

The man pulled back and glared at him.

'You want me to run away?' he said.

'Seems a good idea, wouldn't you say?'

The man stared into his eyes, his lips moving silently. Then he appeared to reach a decision.

'Guards!' he screamed.

The shout echoed through the sleeping palace. His would-be rescuer stared at him in disbelief.

'Mad,' Teppic said. 'You're all mad.'

He stepped out of the room, grabbed Ptraci's hand, and hurried along the shadowy passages. Behind them the prisoner made the most of his tongue while he still had it and used it to scream a stream of imprecations.

'Where are you taking me?' said Ptraci, as they marched smartly around a corner and into a pillar-barred courtyard.

Teppic hesitated. He hadn't thought much beyond this point.

'Why do they bother to bolt the doors?' he demanded, eyeing the pillars. 'That's what I want to know. I'm surprised you didn't wander back to your cell while I was in there.'

'I — I don't want to die,' she said quietly.

'Don't blame you.'

'You mustn't say that! It's wrong not to want to die!' Teppic glanced up at the roof around the courtyard and unslung his grapnel.

'I think I ought to go back to my cell,' said Ptraci, without actually making any move in that direction. 'It's wrong even to think of disobeying the king.'

'Oh? What happens to you, then?'

'Something bad,' she said vaguely.

'You mean, worse than being thrown to the crocodiles or having your soul taken by the Soul Eater?' said Teppic, and caught the grapnel firmly on some hidden ledge on the flat roof.

'That's an interesting point,' said Ptraci, winning the Teppic Award for clear thinking.

'Worth considering, isn't it?' Teppic tested his weight on the cord.

'What you're saying is, if the worst is going to happen to you anyway, you might as well not bother any more,' said Ptraci. 'If the Soul Eater is going to get you whatever you do, you might as well avoid the crocodiles, is that it?'

'You go up first,' said Teppic, 'I think someone's coming.'

'Who are you?'

Teppic fished in his pouch. He'd come back to Djeli an aeon ago with just the clothes he stood up in, but they were the clothes he'd stood up in throughout his exam. He balanced a Number Two throwing knife in his hand, the steel glinting in the flarelight. It was possibly the only steel in the country; it wasn't that Djelibeybi hadn't heard about iron, it was just that if copper was good enough for your great-great-great-great— grandfather, it was good enough for you.

No, the guards didn't deserve knives. They hadn't done anything wrong.

His hand closed over the little mesh bag of caltraps. These were a small model, a mere one inch per spike. Caltraps didn't kill anyone, they just slowed them down a bit. One or two of them in the sole of the foot induced extreme slowness and caution in all except the terminally enthusiastic.

He scattered a few across the mouth of the passage and ran back to the rope, hauling himself up in a few quick swings. He reached the roof just as the leading guards ran under the lintel. He waited until he heard the first curse, and then coiled up the rope and hurried after the girl.

'They'll catch us,' she said.

'I don't think so.'

'And then the king will have us thrown to the crocodiles.'

'Oh no, I don't think-' Teppic paused. It was an intriguing idea.

'He might,' he ventured. 'It's very hard to be sure about anything.'

'So what shall we do now?'

Teppic stared across the river, where the pyramids were ablaze. The Great Pyramid was still under construction, by flarelight; a swarm of blocks, dwarfed by distance, hovered near its tip. The amount of labour Ptaclusp was putting on the job was amazing.

What a flare that will give, he thought. It'll be seen all the way to Ankh.

'Horrible things, aren't they,' said Ptraci, behind him.

'Do you think so?'

'They're creepy. The old king hated them, you know. He said they nailed the Kingdom to the past.'

'Did he say why?'

'No. He just hated them. He was a nice old boy. Very kind. Not like this new one.' She blew her nose and replaced her handkerchief in its scarcely adequate space in her sequinned bra.