“I owe my allegiance to the Green Vipers alone. Not to a king who might hang me on a whim or a general whose name I’d never heard until a month ago. We fought for our lives and they won’t be squandered in defence of a pile of blackened bricks. But there’s a debt between us that I’m keen to settle.”
Vaelin turned to Ellese and Nortah. “Go with them. The Dai Lo and I have business at the temple. The pitch of battle will change once the breach falls. When it does, don’t wait one second longer.”
He turned away before they could argue, hastening to the temple, where he found Sherin in her treatment room waving a bottle of smelling salts under Luralyn’s nose whilst Chien held the woman’s head still. Eresa and Jihla stood in the corner, faces wrought with concern as their mistress moaned, nostrils twitching, but failed to wake.
“We’re leaving,” Vaelin told Sherin. “Get her up,” he added to Chien, nodding at Luralyn. “The captain will help you.”
“To where?” the outlaw woman asked, looping one of Luralyn’s arms over her shoulders whilst Tsai Lin took the other.
“The spice shop on the street left of the gate. The Green Vipers have been keeping secrets.”
“Trust a rat to always find a pipe,” Chien grunted as they hefted Luralyn’s weight.
“Go now,” Vaelin told them, watching Sherin unhurriedly returning the bottle of smelling salts to her chest of curatives. “We’ll be along.”
Chien and Tsai Lin duly carried Luralyn from the room, Eresa and Jihla following close behind.
“It’s time,” Vaelin told Sherin, finding he had to swallow before continuing. “I’m sorry.”
“You left him,” she said in a flat, unsurprised tone, not turning.
“He ordered me to, as he ordered me to save you. And I will.”
“I have patients.” She closed the lid of her chest, pausing a moment to regard her hands, flexing the fingers. “And a gift to share . . .”
“If I have to knock you unconscious to drag you from this city, I will do it!”
She stiffened at his shout, eyes suddenly red, the lines of her face made sharp as she fought her pain. “Did you see him die?”
He moved to her, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her to the door. “There is no time.”
She tore her arm free, red eyes glaring in accusation. “Did you see him die?!”
The lie should have been easy, a thing of utter necessity, but it died on his tongue. He had lied enough to her. “He fights,” he said. “And he will do so to the death so that you can live. Don’t rob it of meaning.”
She turned away, drawing in a ragged breath as she moved to close the lid on her curatives chest, gathering it tight in her arms. Saying nothing else, she left the room. Outside, Vaelin found Ahm Lin, Sehmon and Alum waiting.
“Stay close,” he told them. “And move fast.”
He heard the sound of battle change when they had covered half the distance to the shop, the discordant medley of colliding metal becoming hushed for the briefest instant before surging into the roar of thousands of triumphant voices.
“What’s that?” Sehmon said.
“They’ve broken through,” Vaelin told him, glancing towards the south. Sherin let out a grating sob as the roar descended into a babble punctuated by shrill screams that told of a slaughter.
“I told you not to wait,” Vaelin called out to Nortah as they rounded a corner to find his brother and Ellese waiting in the street.
“And, I’m sure, knew we would do no such thing,” Nortah returned. He led them into the shop, where a large trapdoor lay open in the centre of the floor. “The outlaws, however, had no such qualms. Tsai Lin and the women have just gone through.”
“Where does it lead?” Sehmon asked, peering into the gloomy opening with a dubious eye.
“As long as it’s not here, who cares, lackwit?” Ellese said, striding forward to jump into the hole. Vaelin pushed Sherin through next, waiting for the others to follow before taking hold of the chain on the inside of the trapdoor and swinging it shut behind them as he climbed down.
The stairs below were steep, lit by a single torch in a stanchion on the rough-hewn wall, presumably left behind by Cho-ka. Alum took the torch and led the way down, the party moving as fast as they dared on the damp, narrow steps. The tunnel described a wayward course as it descended, making it impossible to gauge a direction. It finally