A Torch Against the Night (An Ember in the Ashes #2) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,90

Kauf reek of dog droppings and rancid fur. Even the scarf pulled across my face can’t mask it. I gag at the stench.

From where I sidle in the snow along the building’s southern wall, the cacophony of the dogs is deafening. But when I peer into the entrance, the Fiver on guard duty is fast asleep beside the kennel fire—as he has been the past three mornings.

I inch the kennel door open and stick to the walls, still swathed in predawn shadows. Three days of planning—of waiting and watching—have led to this. If all goes well, I’ll have broken Darin out of Kauf by this time tomorrow.

Kennels first.

The Kennel Master visits his domain once a day, at second bell. Three Fivers trade shifts around the clock, but there is only one on duty at a time. Every few hours, one of a series of aux soldiers emerges from the prison to muck out the stalls, feed and exercise the animals, and tend to repairs on the sleds and reins.

At the shadowy end of the structure, I stop beside a pen, where three dogs bark at me as if I’m the Nightbringer himself. The legs of my fatigues and the back of my cloak shred easily—they are already worn through. I hold my breath and use a stick to soil my other pant leg with dung.

I pull up the hood on my cloak. “Oi!” I bellow, hoping the shadows are deep enough to hide my clothing, which is clearly not a Kauf uniform. The Fiver jerks awake and spins, his eyes wild. He spots me and gibbers a defense, dropping his eyes out of respect and fear. I cut him off.

“You’re asleep on the bleeding job,” I roar at him. Auxes, particularly Plebeians, are spat on by everyone else at Kauf. Most tend to be extra nasty to the Fivers and the prisoners—the only people at Kauf they can boss. “I should report you to the Kennel Master.”

“Sir, please—”

“Stop yipping. Had enough of that from the dogs. One of the bitches attacked when I tried to take her out. Ripped my clothes straight through. Bring me another uniform. A cloak and boots too—mine are covered with dog scat. I’m twice your size, so make sure it fits. And don’t bleeding tell the Kennel Master. Last thing I need is that bastard cutting my rations.”

“Yes, sir, right away, sir!”

He darts out of the kennel, so frightened that I’ll turn him in for sleeping on duty that he doesn’t look twice at me. While he’s gone, I feed the dogs and muck out the pens. An aux showing up earlier than usual is strange but not noteworthy, considering the Kennel Master’s lack of organization. An aux showing up and then not performing his assigned task would set off alarm bells.

When the Fiver returns, I’m stripped to my breeches, and I order him to leave the uniform and wait outside. I toss my old clothes and shoes in the fire, shout at the poor boy again for good measure, and turn north, to Kauf.

Half of the prison is rooted inside the darkness of the mountain behind it. The other half erupts from the rock like a diseased growth. A wide road snakes down from the enormous front gate, running like a rivulet of black blood along the River Dusk.

The prison walls, twice as high as Blackcliff’s, are almost ornate, with friezes, columns, and gargoyles hewn from the pale gray rock. Aux archers patrol the crenellated ramparts, and legionnaires man four lookout towers, making the prison difficult to break into and impossible to break out of.

Unless one is a Mask who has spent weeks planning it.

Above, the cold sky is lit green and purple by undulating ribbons of light. The Northern Dancers, they’re called—the spirits of the dead battling for eternity in the skies—at least according to Martial lore.

I wonder what Shaeva would say about it. Maybe you can ask her in a fortnight, when you’re dead. I feel for the store of Tellis in my pocket—a two-week supply. Just enough to get me to Rathana.

Other than the Tellis, a lock pick, and the throwing knives across my chest, my belongings, including my Teluman scims, are hidden in the cave where I plan to stow Darin. The place was smaller than I remembered, half-collapsed and covered in debris from mudslides. But no predators had claimed it, and it is large enough to camp in. Darin and I should be able to lie low there until