Deceived Read online

  “So the new drewgs’ll be com…comin’ roun’ for supper t’morrow night,” Gorn said.

  Anna’s ears perked up—was he slurring his words? Looking up at the huge Trollox, she saw that both heads were nodding sleepily. Indeed, the yellow eyes of the left head were almost closed, though its mouth continued to speak.

  “I tol’…tol’ ‘em whatta good chef I got—what cooks Trollox food prop…proper-like,” it was saying. “So they all said they’d come and… and…”

  “And what, Master?” Anna asked politely.

  But instead of answering, the left head fell face-first into the plate of green slop in front of it. The right head followed and soon the huge Trollox was sprawled across the dining room table, food smeared on its faces as it snored heavily.

  Finally!

  Seeing her chance, Anna jumped up and reached for the chain around the left head’s neck. It was silver and very fine-link—she had to hunt for it in her captor’s greasy, hairy neck-rolls, a grimace of distaste on her features as she did. At last, though, she found it. Quickly and quietly, she unfastened the clasp and began to pull it off the thick neck.

  “What are you doing, stupid girl?” The hissing voice startled her badly. She looked up to see the right head was somehow still awake, though its glowing red eyes looked squinty with sleep. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” it demanded again, querulously.

  “Nothing, Master—nothing at all,” Anna said quickly, concealing the long chain with its key in her hand. “Just go back to sleep,” she told it. “Go to sleep—you’re tired, aren’t you?”

  “Never liked you,” the right head hissed at her. “Stupid…girl…” And then its eyes drifted closed and it began to snore almost as loudly as the left head.

  “I never liked you either, you nasty thing!” Anna informed it. Then, key in hand, she rushed into the kitchen. “Dark!” she called excitedly. “I got it—I got it!”

  The plan was going to work and they would get away within the hour—she was sure of it.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dark turned the key in the lock and then heaved with all his might against the heavy metal door of the treasure room. It was incredibly heavy—more than a normal humanoid male could have managed. It was almost too much for Dark, but he said a silent prayer to the Goddess and pushed again, putting his shoulder to the cold metal and bracing with his legs to give a powerful thrust.

  “Here—I can help too.” Anna had been standing to one side, holding the box with the fake Shannom-rah and watching anxiously. Now she put her shoulder to the door as well and pushed with him.

  It seemed to be the last little bit the door needed—at last it began to move.

  “Good, that’s good, baby,” Dark told her in a low, strained voice. “Keep it up, almost there!”

  The door swung smoothly inward without a creek on its well-oiled hinges and soon they found themselves standing in the middle of the treasure room.

  “Wow,” Anna breathed, looking around at the rare and expensive art arrayed on the dark wood racks around the perimeter of the room. “I’ve heard about this place but Gorn has never let me in here. All of this must be priceless.”

  “You’re right about that. But we don’t have time to admire it.” Quickly, Dark went across to the velvetex cushion where the Shannom-rah lay, glittering like a living rainbow. He started to pick it up, but encountered a sudden resistance. When he tugged at the rainbow crystal, it pulled a little way away from the cushion but then he met resistance and it snapped back into place the minute he let it go. “What in the Seven Hells?” he muttered, frowning at it.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Anna asked anxiously. She was admiring the selection of antique weapons in one corner of the room, Dark saw. In fact, she was looking at the same strange projectile weapon that had fascinated him when Gorn had brought him in—the double-barreled, silver one that had two triggers, one white and one black. Anna was holding it carefully, turning it this way and that. What had Gorn called it? Some kind of Synthian weapon? He couldn’t remember but it didn’t matter anyway.

  “I’m getting some resistance here,” he said, tugging at the Shannom-rah again, only to have it yanked back into place the minute he let it go. “I don’t know what’s going on—it keeps getting pulled back to the cushion.”

  “Oh, I know what it is.” She came over, still holding the Synthian gun. “It’s a microfilament web—I heard Gorn telling one of his drewgs about it.”

  “A microfilament web? What in the Seven Hells is that?” Dark asked, exasperated.

  “It’s made of filaments as fine as a spider’s web and as strong as steel cables,” Anna explained. “They’re also completely invisible when they’re dry.”

  “They certainly are.” Dark yanked experimentally on the crystal again with the same result. “So is there any way to break them?”

  “No, but there should be an opening in them somewhere,” Anna said, frowning. “But again, you’ll never be able to see it while the filaments are dry. You have to mist water over them and let it bead up so you can see where the opening is. Either that or just keep feeling around until you find it, but that will probably take a while.”

  “I can see that,” Dark growled in frustration. He just wanted to get out of here!

  “I’ll run get you some water—isn’t there a mister you use for some of the more delicate marinades in the kitchen?” Anna asked.

  He nodded. “There is but I’ll get it. It’s not safe for you to go alone.”

  “Gorn’s asleep—I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

  She glided away before he could protest again. For a moment, Dark thought about going after her but then he decided that she was right—Gorn was sleeping and there was no one else in the house but Replicants, which were always inactive unless there was a service required of them.

  He decided to try and find the opening in the microfilament web by touch while he waited. It would certainly save time if he could just slip the real crystal out and put the fake crystal in its place without having to mist the whole thing with water.

  He put the fake crystal down and, using both hands, began feeling all around the Shannom-rah. At last, he found what he thought was the opening.

  Now to get the real one out and put the fake one in, he thought, concentrating hard on his task.

  He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even notice someone coming up behind him.

  * * * * *

  Anna ran quickly from the trophy room to the kitchen, only pausing for a moment to make sure that Gorn was still snoring on the table. The big Trollox appeared to be sleeping soundly, so she went confidently into the kitchen and began looking for the mister.

  But the little implement wasn’t where she had last seen it. Frowning, she dug through the cabinets. Where could it have gone? She remembered Dark using it only the other night, when he had made her a special kind of roasted tree root that tasted like a mixture of sweet potatoes and carrots. He had used the mister to coat it in a marinade that tasted a little like maple syrup with cinnamon in it. The dish had been delicious and Anna had asked him how to make it. She—

  “Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, spotting the mister at last. It looked a little like a squirt gun with a round copper bulb screwed into the bottom.

  Just as she was reaching for it, there was an ominous sound from the other room. A clunking, clattering thud like a heavy piece of furniture falling over.

  Anna jumped, her hand going automatically to her throat.

  Something cold touched her skin and she looked down and realized she was still holding the odd-looking silver gun with the black and white triggers. She hadn’t realized she’d taken it from the trophy room. Now she examined it in more detail, feeling like her heart was beating in her throat.

  Could it be used as a weapon? she wondered. Or was it for display purposes only? Could she use it to defend herself or would it only be evidence that she had broken into the trophy room i