rooms until the rioters get what they came for. Most of them are unarmed civilians—they won’t trouble us. We’ll wait for help to come.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Hacken demanded.
“Then we’ll see what daylight brings and go from there.”
“That’s not much of a plan.”
Bercola gave the High Lord a dark glare, the torch flames casting shadows on her face. “You come up with a better one, by all means let me know.”
They were nearly back to the entrance to the palace, all of them breathing hard from the climb, when a shout echoed up from behind. Sonia’s voice.
“They’re almost through!”
“Get that trapdoor open!” Bercola bellowed.
Brin climbed the ladder and shoved a key in the lock, the mechanism releasing with a clunk. Her arms shuddering, she pushed, but the door didn’t budge.
“There’s something on top,” she muttered. “I can’t lift it.”
“The gods spare me from you little weaklings,” Bercola growled. “Let me do it.”
But as Bercola reached for the ladder, the trap snapped open and two arms wearing rags reached down and jerked Brin upward. A piercing shriek filled the air, and blood splattered down on the guardswomen below.
“Brin!” Bercola started to climb, but more rag-clad arms reached down, faces appearing in the opening as they fought against one another to get through the trapdoor.
Their faces were an ashen grey, black veins running up the sides of their necks. But it wasn’t until one of them twisted to look at the group with eyes devoid of humanity that Lydia knew what was wrong with them. “They’re infected with blight!”
“Pull back!” Bercola shouted, and then they were all running.
Lydia looked over her shoulder as they rounded a bend, terror racing through her veins at the sight of infected civilians with blight toppling down into the tunnel, one after another, only to rise and give chase. “Run!”
With Bercola in the lead, the group careened downwards, everyone tripping and stumbling. Lydia’s elbow slammed against the wall of the tunnel, but the pain was inconsequential compared to her fear. Sonia appeared ahead, panting and wide-eyed. “They’ll be through by now. We have to go!”
“Way back to the palace is blocked by the enemy.” Blood streamed down Bercola’s arm from the arrow wound. “We’re trapped.”
“We go down the other tunnels.” Malahi’s voice cut through the heavy, panicked breathing of the group.
“I have no idea where they go,” Bercola said. “They could be dead ends.”
“We have no choice.” The Queen’s face was streaked with dirt, but it did nothing to diminish the authority in her voice. “This way. Now.”
Torches in hand, Lena and Gwen led the way down a dark branch of tunnel. It bent and wove, narrowing in places only to open up wide, everyone fighting to keep their footing on the slimy rock. Lydia’s pulse raced, her breath coming in fast little pants as the ceiling lowered, forcing them all to duck, Bercola nearly bent double.
The giantess was struggling, the confined space and her injury slowing her to a crawl. Falling back, Lydia whispered, “Let me help you.”
But Bercola shook her head. “You get caught, he gets caught. I’ve had worse. Keeping going.”
Yet even over her roaring pulse and rapid breath, Lydia could hear the sounds of feet racing up behind them. Not the boots of soldiers, but the bare feet of Mudaire’s poor. Women. Children.
She and Bercola reached a spot where the tunnel widened enough for them to stand straight, and there the giantess stopped, setting her torch against the wall. “I’ll hold them off here. They’ll only be able to come through one or two at a time. Go.”
Lydia didn’t move, watching the light from the rest of their party diminish. “I can’t leave you alone.”
“There isn’t room for both of us to fight. You’ll only be in my way. Go! You’ll have your chance to die soon enough.”
Bercola was right, and Lydia knew it. But at least she could give the giantess a fighting chance. Reaching up, she pushed the arrow the rest of the way through the woman’s enormous shoulder, and before Bercola could react Lydia directed her mark at the wound until the bleeding stopped.
“You’re an idiot,” Bercola muttered, then shoved Lydia up the tunnel.
Despite the darkness, Lydia moved swiftly, keeping one hand in front of her and the other against the tunnel wall, following the trails of life the group had left behind them. It wasn’t long until she caught sight of their torchlight.
The skin on the back of her neck crawled as Lydia approached, meeting Sonia, who was guarding