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sharply. "I apologize. I spoke out of turn. But you must always keep in mind
the power he can bring to bear. It's not a simple matter of Pharaoh wanting to
have his way& he always has his way."
She forced a bitter smile to her lips and patted Krysty's arm. "Just remember
to guard your thoughts& and your dreams."
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_40_-_Nightmare_Passage
Chapter Seventeen
Ryan, Doc and J.B. had spent a relatively miserable night in their cells.
Relatively, because they could easily recall worse nights spent in far worse
places. Still, they were a long way from being comfortable.
The bald turnkeys gave them food at one point something resembling cold
oatmeal and water, but they steadfastly refused to answer ques-tions or to
even respond to the insults J.B. hurled at them. He addressed them as Baldy
One and
Baldy Two, but they ignored him. Only Doc was able to sleep. He snored so
loudly that J.B. and Ryan were unable to hold a conversation, not that Ryan
felt much like talking.
As the hours dragged on, his strength slowly re-turned to him, the pain
fading.
And with it faded the emotional memory of the red-eyed giant's voice. When he
felt a tiny ember of anger glow within him, he happily fanned it to a full
flame of fury, but he kept it banked, under control.
With the anger came a sick fear, stealing over him like a virus. He feared not
for himself but for the people he had led into a trap. He feared most for
Krysty. More than once, she had fallen into the hands of cdldhearts who wanted
to possess her or violate her. This time was different in a way he couldn't
quite identify. This time, he was genuinely worried about the strength of her
resolve, since his own had cracked in the presence of Pharaoh, even if only
for a short time.
He replayed Danielson's words in his mind:
When you're in the presence of
Pharaoh, you end up lov-ing him eventually
.
He touched the blood-crusted welt on the side of his head and thought of the
man who had inflicted it. "No love lost here," he whispered. "Bastard has to
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pay."
A sound floated down the corridor, a woman's faraway voice and a man's gruff
response. It was followed a moment later by a burst of bawdy laugh-ter from
Baldys One and Two. Doc awoke with a snorting start and pulled himself to his
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_40_-_Nightmare_Passage feet by the barred door.
A young woman came hurrying into the cell blocks, carrying a basket full of
dark loaves of bread. As one, Doc, J.B. and Ryan stepped back from the bars,
unconsciously covering themselves. She swept her gray gaze over the men, then
rested it on Ryan. She stepped forward, thrusting a long loaf between the
bars.
"My name is Kela," she said in a brisk, no-nonsense whisper. "I bring you word
of your miss-ing friends."
They listened quietly as she told them of the whereabouts of Jak, Mildred and
Krysty. Anticipat-ing more questions from Ryan, she added, "She is all right.
She is a guest in the palace, under the per-sonal protection of Pharaoh."
Ryan stepped back to the bars, forgetting his nu-dity in his anger. Gripping
the bars, he snarled, "What the hell do you mean?"
The corners of Kela's pink lips twitched. "She is your woman, isn't she? You
have no need to worry, yet. Krysty is prepared for his probes."
"What?" The word exploded from his lips.
The woman tapped her forehead. "Psychic probes, Ryan Cawdor. Yes, I know your
name." She glanced over at J.B. and Doc. "I know all of your names and I
and others intend to help you."
Doc cleared his throat. "Why are you befriending us at such great personal
risk?"
Kela made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "That is a long story. But keep
in mind that forces are at work to free you. In the meantime, you are
scheduled to be released from your cells shortly. That should give you some
comfort. But you must not try to leave the city, and you must cooperate with
everyone who deals with you. If you do not, every one of you will be killed."
With a swirl of her hair, she turned and left the cell block.
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Axler,_James_-_Deathlands_40_-_Nightmare_Passage
Doc looked after her, commenting wryly, "Now, who in this den of holiness
would care about here-tics such as ourselves?"
J.B. tore off a mouthful of the coarse-grained bread. "Think we should believe
her?"
Ryan sighed and sat on the cot. "Wait and see. That's all we can do. At least
we know Jak and Krysty are alive. That's something."
Within the hour, the turnkeys strode in, tossing folded squares of linen into
the cells. "Put these on," one ordered. "You're moving to new
accom-modations."
It took them a couple of minutes to figure out the proper way to wear the
kilts.
When Doc pointed out they were like oversize diapers, they adjusted them
accordingly.
After they were dressed, the cell doors were un-locked and they walked out
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