lay in Dawnbringer Square, still in their traces. Makeshift barriers showed where the city's forces had tried to contain the violence and failed. Above the carnage, Celestial Hill loomed over the rooftops, its pristine walls gleaming like ivory in the moonlight.
"This place is a mess," Kit said as she floated over his head. "Are you sure you're going to be able to find him?"
Caim turned down a narrow lane. "I'm going to try."
A light rain filled the cracks in the street and collected in shallow pools. With knives drawn, Caim watched the dark nooks and doorways on either side of his path. His father's sword hung between his shoulder blades with strange familiarity. He wasn't sure why he had taken it. His knives had served him well enough these many years, but he was running on instinct now, and taking it had felt like the right thing to do. From time to time he found himself reaching up to touch the shagreen-wrapped hilt, and a shiver would run through his arm. After this night was over, he'd be happy to bury the thing again.
As he entered the Gutters, Caim almost ran into the backs of a gang of citizens. They marched down the center of the street, truncheons in hand. With soot and bloodstains on their clothing, they looked like they had already seen some fighting. He waited until they passed. As he crossed the street, his gaze was drawn to the hulking specter of the work house, resolute against the city skyline, walls glistening in the rain, affecting everything in its vicinity like a bloated spider in the center of a tattered web. Calm's fingers tightened around his knives as he went on his way.
He dipped into a crooked side street. It was so dark he had to navigate mostly by feel, following its meandering length for two blocks to the mouth of a constricted intersection. Water dripped down onto him from the eaves above as he stood in the safety of the alley's shadows. By its looks, Ale Street had escaped the worst of the rioting so far. A man's body in the uniform of the night watch was sprawled in the gutter outside the Blue Vine beside an overturned cart. Blood clotted in the reddish hair where half his head had been caved in.
"I'll check around back." Kit darted away.
Caim stared across the street. Slivers of light leaked from gaps around the wineshop's shuttered windows. A soft clack on cobblestones drifted through the rain. A horse, its chestnut coat rain-soaked and soiled with grime, nosed through piles of garbage. The ends of leather reins trailed in the puddles.
Caim opened and closed his fists. What was he waiting for? Josey needed him, and yet he hesitated. He had fought for her, killed for her, sacrificed everything. Was he prepared to die for her, too? He could run. Start over. Kit would be ecstatic. All he had to do was leave Josey to her fate. Just walk away.
Caim caressed the ice-cold amulet that hung from his wrist. He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave her to Ral's tender mercies. And though he was loath to admit it, he had become fond of this tired old tramp of a city. If he ever left, it would be on his terms.
Having decided, he crossed the swampy street and nudged open the door. Faces looked up as he stepped into the common room. Half a dozen men and one woman sat around the hearth. Several hands stole inside clothing to reach for hidden surprises, but one look from him was enough to stop them cold. Mother stood behind the bar. A heavy mallet rested on the counter beside her, the kind used for breaking open cask bungs. Or caving in the skulls of young soldiers.
Caim scanned the room for a specific face, but didn't find it. "I'm looking for Hubert."
"He ain't here," Mistress Henninger replied in a terser tone than her usual. "Haven't seen him."
"Since when?"
She shrugged, one sleeve of her heavy blouse slipping off the shoulder. She reached up to put it back. "Earlier. Before sunset."
"Any idea where he is now?"
A bearded man stood up clutching a stick of firewood in his fist. "You'll get out of here if you know what's good, young buck."
Caim stared at the speaker. After half a dozen heartbeats, the bearded man settled back in his seat.
Mother came around the bar. "Don't mind him, Caim. You're a welcome sight. Hubert came by a few hours ago