Castle Spellbound

KEEP — HIGHER UP

People everywhere!

Throngs of them, droves of them. People of every description decked out in every sort of wild get-up. Kwip had never seen so many different varieties of human creature. And they were all after his loot!

"That's mine!" Kwip screamed at the man with the odd pill-shaped cap.

"How do you figure, mate?"

Kwip grabbed at the sparkling sapphire ring. When the lanky sailor held it out of reach over his head, grinning, Kwip let him have a boot in the groin. The sailor went down and Kwip had his ring back. The encircling crowd voiced its disapproval, hissing and booing.

"To the devil with all of you," Kwip snarled as he ran off, the bulky sack of recovered booty rattling against his back.

First endless musicians, then big cats, then gladiators, and now this. He'd nearly lost his life to the cats-that last pair had chased him down six flights of stairs-but Kwip almost preferred them to this horde of sticky-fingered scavengers.

Through a chink in the rush he spied a gold chalice lying on the stone floor of the corridor; but he wasn't quick enough. Before he could reach it, the thing got kicked. It skittered down the hall and ended up being punted into a side passage.

Hefting the overstuffed sack, Kwip pushed and shoved his way after it, but the press got ever greater. Someone stepped on his toe and he yelped. Then someone trod on his heels; he let loose a punch to the kidney in answer. The man on the receiving end collapsed against his neighbor, who in turn tripped up two unfortunate passers-by, who… and so forth. This domino effect generated a minor tussle, which Kwip struggled to get away from.

At a safe distance, he resumed the pursuit. Drat. Now he'd lost sight of the chalice. He stooped and peered among the hosts of stamping feet, and for his trouble got goosed up the backside. He clouted the nearest suspect, who was in fact completely innocent; but no matter. Kwip ducked the retaliatory blow, which landed on another bystander, who became justly aggrieved-and in no time a major brawl broke out between a construction gang and some gentlemen in leather vests and odd helmets.

Kwip couldn't slip away from this quarrel. A giant of a man came at him and he had to resort to whacking the brute with the sack, which promptly split open.

A cascade of baubles and bangles splashed to the floor: bracelets, anklets, earrings, and chains; pins, brooches, chatelaines, torques. Out gushed gems and precious stones of every sort and value: diamonds, emeralds, agate, and heliotrope, onyx and amethyst, all clattering and tinkling and skittering into every nook and corner.

There ensued a mad scramble for the scattered treasure. Fist fights broke out all over. Shouts and curses. Fingers gouged at eyeballs, knees found their way to sensitive parts. Elbows jabbed into solar plexuses.

At length Kwip crawled out of the swirling maelstrom. He got to his feet, saw a swinging door, and fled through it. He found himself on a wide landing between stairways with a high Palladian window, overlooking courtyards far below, set into the far wall. Amazing to behold, there was no traffic on the stairs. Kwip sat himself down on the stone window seat and burst into tears.

All his swag, gone. How many years' work? Half a dozen, at least. Piles of pretty gewgaws, heaps of fancy trinkets, gold, silver, and platinum gimcracks. All lovely little bijous, and all irretrievably lost. Washed away like sand castles with the rising tide.

Castles! He never wanted to see the inside of another castle as long as he lived. He would hie himself out of this insane place once and for all. He would choose a likely looking aspect, one of tidy villages peopled by sturdy upright middle-class stock, prosperous burghers, every man, woman, and child. And he'd steal them blind and live at his ease and be happy forevermore.

He let loose a great despairing sigh. Gods. No, truth to tell, he'd probably stay here. Stealing was work, and Kwip had never cared much for work. Which was why he stole in the first place. In the past few years he'd slacked off something awful. He liked to steal, he loved his profession, but when there was no real need for it…

Ah, well.

The door on the landing burst open. Kwip looked up and was puzzled when no one came through. The door eased shut. He shrugged and went back to brooding.

"Kwip."

Kwip was startled to hear a disembodied voice at his side.

He jumped to his feet and searched about, yet still saw no one.

It is i, Osmirik.

Kwip said warily, "Where are you?"

In front of you. One moment.

Kwip was astounded when Osmirik materialized before his eyes.

"Sorcery, is it?" Kwip asked.

"Of a low sort," Osmirik said. "With it I avoided the sword fights, but these teeming multitudes make passage through the castle impossible." He cast glances up and down the stairwell. "Seems to be thin in here."

"Aye. But I hear rumblings below."

Osmirik listened. Sounds of mounting feet drifted up from the depths of the stairwell. His shoulders fell.

"The way is by no means clear." he said.

"By no means," Kwip agreed. "But then, why descend to the lower floors? Thence come all our troubles, methinks."

"True, but I must get to the source, which, I have surmised, may be a certain hidden storeroom in the crypt."

"Think you?"

"Indeed. i may be able to abrogate the spell, or at least inform the king so that he may do so."

"Aye, good. But getting there's the rub."

"True."

Osmirik sat and thought.

Lord Peter Thaxton came running down the stairs and skidded to a stop on sight of the two dispirited men. Thaxton was breathing hard. "What gives?"

"Nary a thing," Kwip said. "I've just lost my life's fortune."

"Just lost my best friend," Thaxton said.

Osmirik was about to ask who, but realized it could only be one man. "My condolences. How came it about?"

"Details later, please," Thaxton said as he sat down heavily. "Must get my second wind."

"We are essaying to find a way to the lower keep," Osmirik said.

"Me, too," Thaxton said. "If there's a chance he may be alive, I've got to get to him."

"I see."

"Besides, I've got to alert the Guards, all that," Thaxton said, then bent over and put his head between his knees. "Sorry, bit dizzy."

"Rest awhile, my friend," Osmirik bade him. "Meantime, I shall think."

"Bloody hell," Thaxton said, for no particular reason.

"Aye." Kwip concurred in this sentiment.

"Bloody awful," Thaxton said. "Nasty business."

Kwip nodded in baleful agreement. "Aye, it is."

Thaxton lifted his head. "You saw it, then?"

"I was there," Kwip said.

"You were? I didn't see you."

Kwip came out of his wistful reverie. "Pardon? What say you?"

"I said, if you were there, I certainly didn't see you. Whereabouts-?"

"I've got it!" Osmirik shouted, jumping to his feet.

"What's that?" Thaxton said.

"The way down. Help me open these casements."

Thaxton and Kwip exchanged doubtful looks, but assisted Osmirik in unlatching the windows and swinging them open. Outside was a narrow ledge. Osmirik stepped up onto it.

"Just what do you have in mind?" Thaxton wanted to know.

"We shall jump."

Thaxton looked at Kwip, then at Osmirik. He turned away, reaching back to massage the nape of his neck. "Everyone's gone balmy," he muttered.

Kwip scowled at the Royal Librarian. "Ye gods, man, have you lost your senses? Or is this more sorcery?"

"None of my doing. You do know that the castle is tricked out with many spells?"

Kwip snorted. "Hardly a revelation."

"But did you know that there is a spell, a series of them, which can catch a man if he fall from a great height?"

"You're daft."

"Hardly. No one can fall to his death from Perilous as long as these spells are efficaciously operative."

Thaxton, at first dumbfounded, managed to say, "Good God, man. Are you quite serious?"

"As long as the spells are working. We can jump safely to the ground and-"

"Wait just a moment," Thaxton said as he bounded up to the ledge. "If a man fell off the highest part of the castle, from the highest parapet, are you telling me that there's a chance he could survive?"

"Why, yes," Osmirik said. "If the spell on that part of the castle were still effectively running. One such spell cannot cover the whole castle, and they do fail now and then-"

"But is there a chance he might survive such a fall?"

"Why, yes, that's exactly what I am saying, Lord Peter. And we have that same chance. If we can but screw our courage to the sticking point-"

"Ta ta!" Thaxton said happily as he jumped from the ledge.

"Gods!"

Osmirik watched him drop. Astonished, Kwip leaned out of the window and witnessed with him. Neither could quite believe his eyes.

"Why… it works," Osmirik said in awe.

"I'll be buggered six ways from Whitsuntide."

"Well," Osmirik said. "We shall meet below. I hope." Osmirik jumped.

Kwip watched again. He still could not fathom it.

"I do believe something strange is going on here," said a voice behind him. Kwip whirled about.

And there stood a giant rabbit. The thing was about seventeen hands tall from its huge feet to the tips of its long ears. The fur was a bright hot pink where not covered by a morning coat and ascot, pinstriped pants, and spats. No shoes. The rabbit was smoking a meerschaum pipe.

"So," the rabbit said, puffing philosophically. "Doing a little Zen skydiving, eh?"

Kwip's eyes widened to saucer-size. He turned and dove out the window.