The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,84
he had, he settled on what he hoped was the best one.
He glanced around the room. Did he need anything else? No. He already had his mother’s ring. He walked over to Tyvara.
“I have everything I need.”
She nodded and turned to the doorway, peering out into the corridor.
“So, who was it exactly that you said my father crossed?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for me to explain.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“But I will, later.”
“I’m taking that as a promise,” he told her.
She frowned, placed a hand on her lips to indicate silence, then beckoned and quietly slipped out into the dark corridors of the Guild House.
Once Cery would have travelled familiar parts of the Thieves’ Road without a light. There had been little danger of encountering a knife in the dark, as only those who had the approval of the Thieves had used the network of passages under the city, and the truce between the Thieves prevented any but approved murders happening on the road.
Now there was no truce, and anyone who dared could travel the road. It had quickly become so dangerous that few did, which, ironically, made the deserted parts safer. And stories of oversized rodents and monsters kept all but the boldest from exploring.
But I still wouldn’t travel without a light, Cery thought as he approached a corner. His heart had been beating uncomfortably fast since they had entered the road. He would not relax again until they’d left it. Peering around the turn, he lifted the lamp and felt yet another wave of relief as he saw the tunnel ahead was unoccupied. Then he realised that what he’d assumed was the next turn was actually rubble filling the space. He sighed and turned back to Gol.
“Another blockage,” he said.
Gol’s eyebrows rose. “It wasn’t there last time.”
“No.” Cery looked up at the ceiling. He winced as he saw the crack where brickwork was separating. “Nobody does any maintenance any more. We’ll have to go around.”
They backtracked and Cery took a right-hand passage. Gol hesitated before following.
“Aren’t we … ?” the big man asked.
“Getting real close to the Slig City?” Cery finished. “Yes. We better be quiet.”
The Sligs had been a group of street urchins who’d found refuge in the underground passages after their area of slums had been lost to new roads and buildings. They’d settled underground, only coming up to steal food. Somehow they’d survived, grown up and bred in the darkness, and now they defended their territory with savage ferocity.
The Thief who operated in the area above Slig City had once tried to gain control of them. His corpse and those of his men had washed out of the sewers a few days later.
After that, people living above had begun leaving food out by known tunnel entrances in the hopes of keeping the Sligs’ favour.
At each tunnel entrance, Cery lifted his lamp and examined the brickwork. The Sligs always painted a symbol on the walls around the edges of their territory. Only when he and Gol had moved away from the underworld citizen’s domain again did he stop looking for signs of them. Unfortunately, he began to encounter cave-ins and signs of decay again. But soon they’d reached the old entrance to the passages under the Guild.
The entrance had been destroyed after the Ichani Invasion, but Cery had arranged for a new tunnel to be dug. As a precaution, he’d included false entrances and clever deceptions that would lead explorers away again. Cery paused to listen and look for any observers, then slipped through the correct one, Gol following.
“Good luck,” Gol said as he stopped beside the niche where he usually waited when Cery made one of his journeys to meet Sonea.
“You, too,” Cery replied. “Don’t talk to any strangers.”
The big man humphed and lifted his lamp up to examine the niche. Brushing away a few faren webs, he sat down on the shelf and yawned. Cery turned away and set off into the passages under the Guild Grounds.
Like much of the Thieves’ Road, these passages were in disrepair. They had never been in good condition anyway, except where High Lord Akkarin had made repairs. But the secretive magician hadn’t been able to source much in the way of building materials, since it would have aroused suspicion, and had mostly reused bricks from other parts of the maze to patch the walls. The underlying problems of damp and shifting soil had never been solved.