or whatever it is you like to say. I remember.” Cab adjusted his hold gingerly. “Do you have a safe place? Somewhere else you meet when the sewers have been compromised?”
Einan’s expression fell. “The sewers have never been compromised.”
“Then it was only a matter of time,” Cab said. “They were digging. You had to know eventually—”
“I can take Malachy to my place,” Uaine said. “But they’ll see us walking in the front door.”
Not an option for the fae.
“Where else?” Cab turned to Einan, who seemed to gain resolve from responsibility.
“You’re right.” She looked at Sil in his arms, then to Uaine. “Only one place for a troupe of freaks like this. Uaine, Malachy, get yourselves to safety. We’ll split up. Protecting Sil. That’s what’s important.”
“Lead the way,” Cab replied.
66
Cab
After they’d spent too long chasing Einan’s twists and turns in the dark, the air finally began to smell less stale. Sounds of city life, muted but unmistakable, followed. The occasional sewer grate appeared overhead, unsteady light filtering through the bars. Carriage wheels, laughter, marketplace shouting, the scampering of small feet.
And more shit and piss. The sewers here were active.
I am disgusted, Cab heard One grouse. I hope you can make this up to me someday with a proper adventure.
If we make it out of this one, he replied.
Always so dire! Try not to be gloomy.
The clatter of heavy, iron-soled boots interrupted their conversation. Reminded Cab to stay focused on the present. Queensguard overhead meant he couldn’t let his guard down.
He also had to keep checking over his shoulder to make sure their new friend was still there.
The fae remained quiet as a shadow.
Einan led them down a narrower, smellier tunnel where the light faltered. Less clamor overhead. From there she found and climbed a rusty ladder to the surface. A grated panel in the ceiling gave a creak as she pushed it open.
Einan disappeared through it, then reappeared, gave the hand signal for all clear. She held her arms out for Sil. “Be gentle!”
As he passed Sil off to Einan, Cab wondered if she might close the grate on him and disappear with Sil into the night.
But if Einan did that, she’d also be closing the grate on One and another fae.
Not everyone was as disloyal to their brothers and sisters as Cab had been the night he’d fled the Hill.
“Come up,” Einan hissed. “What are you standing around for?”
Properly shamed, trusting that One could handle a ladder without hands, Cab settled his palm on a rusted rung and hauled himself up.
When he surfaced, he came face-to-face with the black-and-silver uniform of a Queensguard.
Trap, his instincts screamed. But One hadn’t warned him of any danger.
Next to the Queensguard’s uniform was a voluminous white dress. Glittering fish scales patterned the skirt, edged in blue beading. Hanging next to that was a series of masks, some of them with long, comical noses, others with frozen expressions of fear or sadness. A bureau with a mirror faced Cab, reflecting Einan to his left, settling Sil in a pile of colorful fabric and folded banners.
“Are we in a madman’s wardrobe?” Cab asked.
“Close.” Einan’s voice hushed, her expression reverent as she touched Sil’s hair, brushed it out of her face, and finally released her. “You’re in my theater.”
Of course. These were costumes.
A sneeze from One caught Cab’s attention. When he turned, he saw that she’d already extracted herself from the sewers and was tangled in a feathered scarf. Bright fuchsia plumes floated gently in the air around her head, sticking to her body where the silver was wet. The fae climbed out next, huffing another plume off his face.
“Used to be more jewelry, of course.” Einan straightened, kneading the small of her back with her knuckles. “Bits of gold, real silver candlesticks. Until the Queensguard rounded up all our good metal to melt down into weapons. I’ll bet there’s more than a few family heirlooms masquerading as swords these days.”
It wasn’t the sights in the room that had distracted Cab. He was suddenly, overwhelmingly aware of their smell in such a small space.
Einan’s nose wrinkled, having the same thought. “Right. You’d best clean up. Bathing stuff’s behind that screen, and don’t touch my perfumes and powders, thanks—they don’t come cheap. After the lizard’s clean and dry, she’ll have to hold still if anyone drops by my dressing room. Pretend to be a prop. Go on,” she urged, hands on Cab’s back, shoving him forward.
Behind the screen were a pitcher of water and a small porcelain tub,