big doors there. They’re locked with a chain, do you think you could break it?”
“I’ll try,” replies the giant, modestly.
Brownyn circles the big vehicle carefully, feeling her way around it in the dark.
“What good’s this going to do us?” she asks. A carriage is of no use without horses and she is irritated at the waste of time.
“You’ll see in a minute,” answers the baron, which irritates the princess even more.
There is a muffled sound, between a twang and a pop, from outside and a moment later Thud reappears, carrying a loop of broken chain. The baron orders Gyven to swing open the big doors, while he, Thud and the princess clamber into the carriage.
“This is stupid,” mutters Bronwyn.
The baron doesn’t answer her directly, but instead silently fumbles around the black dashboard. There is a click , a satisfied “Ah!” from the baron, and a small red light begins to glow dully. Between him and the princess, who shares the front seat, is a tiller-like handle. The baron grasps this, touches an unseen switch with his other hand, and a faint whine comes from somewhere beneath Bronwyn’s feet.
“It’s electric!” she cries as well as she could in a whisper.
“Yes, indeed!” replies the baron. The whine increases in pitch and the carriage otherwise silently begins to roll backwards into the alley beyond. “All right, then, where are we going?”
“Into the city.”
“And then?”
“I’d rather tell you as we go.”
“Have it your own way,” he replies, and, as Bronwyn detects an odd note of annoyance or exasperation in the baron’s voice, decides to exacerbate it by replying, “I will!”
Once the baron has left the alley and circumnavigated the palace, they find themselves on the same road they had taken into the city a few weeks earlier. The electric carriage rattles metallically as it crosses the bridge into Toth proper. Once they have gotten some distance from the palace, the baron switches on the large brass spotlight mounted on the curved bow of the machine.
“Holy Musrum!” says the princess, at last able to raise her voice. “Do you think we could be any more obvious’?”
“It doesn’t make much difference. Nobody except the very wealthy or very influential own these machines, so no one’s going to be foolhardy enough to stop us. In fact, we’re far less suspicious with the headlight on.”
At that moment they pass a strolling policeman. Bronwyn’s heart shrinks into a small hard ball, like a frightened armadillo, but the man merely salutes the humming, rattling vehicle with his baton and continues his rounds. He’d scarcely looked at them.
“See?” says the baron. “If we’d been on foot, we would’ve been immediately stopped and questioned.”
“Turn here.”
“This is familiar,” he comments as they bumped down the narrow street. “I have an idea where we’re going.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. But why?”
“You’ll see.”
As the baron had expected, Bronwyn guides the machine to the avenue on which is located the National Academy of Sciences. However, to his surprise, she has him drive on past, without even slowing down. They leave the main trans-park avenue and continue along a sinuous road that winds beneath tall, black trees that overhang the path in a manner that must have been calculated to be entrancingly shady in the daytime, but in the hours before dawn create only a gloomy tunnel. The princess orders the baron to stop the carriage at a point that looks no different from any other they have just passed. He follows her as she hops from the running board to the graveled road. Thud and Gyven silently join them.
“Stay with me,” she whispers, “and keep quiet.” The three men follow the girl along a nearly invisible path that winds among the ghostly birches. When they emerge from the woods the baron whispers, “Ah ha!”
Ahead, across a broad clearing, swaying ponderously in the lightly wafting breeze, is the ominous
“I’ll try,” replies the giant, modestly.
Brownyn circles the big vehicle carefully, feeling her way around it in the dark.
“What good’s this going to do us?” she asks. A carriage is of no use without horses and she is irritated at the waste of time.
“You’ll see in a minute,” answers the baron, which irritates the princess even more.
There is a muffled sound, between a twang and a pop, from outside and a moment later Thud reappears, carrying a loop of broken chain. The baron orders Gyven to swing open the big doors, while he, Thud and the princess clamber into the carriage.
“This is stupid,” mutters Bronwyn.
The baron doesn’t answer her directly, but instead silently fumbles around the black dashboard. There is a click , a satisfied “Ah!” from the baron, and a small red light begins to glow dully. Between him and the princess, who shares the front seat, is a tiller-like handle. The baron grasps this, touches an unseen switch with his other hand, and a faint whine comes from somewhere beneath Bronwyn’s feet.
“It’s electric!” she cries as well as she could in a whisper.
“Yes, indeed!” replies the baron. The whine increases in pitch and the carriage otherwise silently begins to roll backwards into the alley beyond. “All right, then, where are we going?”
“Into the city.”
“And then?”
“I’d rather tell you as we go.”
“Have it your own way,” he replies, and, as Bronwyn detects an odd note of annoyance or exasperation in the baron’s voice, decides to exacerbate it by replying, “I will!”
Once the baron has left the alley and circumnavigated the palace, they find themselves on the same road they had taken into the city a few weeks earlier. The electric carriage rattles metallically as it crosses the bridge into Toth proper. Once they have gotten some distance from the palace, the baron switches on the large brass spotlight mounted on the curved bow of the machine.
“Holy Musrum!” says the princess, at last able to raise her voice. “Do you think we could be any more obvious’?”
“It doesn’t make much difference. Nobody except the very wealthy or very influential own these machines, so no one’s going to be foolhardy enough to stop us. In fact, we’re far less suspicious with the headlight on.”
At that moment they pass a strolling policeman. Bronwyn’s heart shrinks into a small hard ball, like a frightened armadillo, but the man merely salutes the humming, rattling vehicle with his baton and continues his rounds. He’d scarcely looked at them.
“See?” says the baron. “If we’d been on foot, we would’ve been immediately stopped and questioned.”
“Turn here.”
“This is familiar,” he comments as they bumped down the narrow street. “I have an idea where we’re going.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. But why?”
“You’ll see.”
As the baron had expected, Bronwyn guides the machine to the avenue on which is located the National Academy of Sciences. However, to his surprise, she has him drive on past, without even slowing down. They leave the main trans-park avenue and continue along a sinuous road that winds beneath tall, black trees that overhang the path in a manner that must have been calculated to be entrancingly shady in the daytime, but in the hours before dawn create only a gloomy tunnel. The princess orders the baron to stop the carriage at a point that looks no different from any other they have just passed. He follows her as she hops from the running board to the graveled road. Thud and Gyven silently join them.
“Stay with me,” she whispers, “and keep quiet.” The three men follow the girl along a nearly invisible path that winds among the ghostly birches. When they emerge from the woods the baron whispers, “Ah ha!”
Ahead, across a broad clearing, swaying ponderously in the lightly wafting breeze, is the ominous
Similar Books
