Nightblade: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 1) (20 page)

“How did you find me?” cried Annis.
 

“Later,” Loren said. “Gregor and his men are close. I hope you wear shoes meant for running. Gem, lead us to the roofs.”

“No good,” he said. “Auntie’s children. We must go below.”

“What do you—” Loren began, but Gem seized her hand and dragged her along. In a moment, she saw a hole in the street, cut into the cobblestones and leading to darkness below.

“Below,” Gem repeated. “Come. We can all fit, but I’ll wager that giant and his lackeys cannot.”

Annis pulled up short, yanking on Loren’s hand and pulling them all to a stop. With panic in her voice, she shrieked. “I won’t go in there!”
 

“We must. They’ll find us too easily up here.” Gem looked angrily at Loren. “Tell her.”

“Come, Annis. It is only until we get away.”

But her face twitched in terror, and Annis took a fearful step back. “I won’t! I won’t climb into that tomb to die!”

“If you are afraid of mussing your pretty face—”
 

Loren silenced Gem with a cuff to the ear. “Annis, we have no choice. Come, please. I will not leave your side nor let go your hand.”

More shouts amid the tromping of many feet echoed down a nearby street. From the sound, they were just round the corner, and Gregor had summoned the constables along with his men. Annis looked toward the sound, her tongue running nervously along her lips. Then she nodded and stepped forward.

Gem led the way, sliding down into the darkness before raising his hands. Loren made Annis go next, and the girl fell into Gem’s arms with a frightened cry. Loren slipped in behind her, and not a moment too soon—she heard more running above, and as Loren looked up she saw shadows marring the moonslight.

Annis threw herself to Loren’s side, wrapping both arms around her. “Don’t let me go,” she said in a quavering voice. “You promised you would not.”

“I will not,” Loren assured her.

She looked around, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Soon, the sparse moonslight gave enough to see. They stood in a stone tunnel in the city’s bowels, a thick sludge lining a channel cut into the center. It smelled worse than anything Loren had ever imagined.
 

Gem tugged at her sleeve. “Come. It is not far to the way above, and then we may walk beneath the sky again.”

“Lead the way.”
 

Gem set off along the stone walkway above the sludge. Loren pulled Annis into the darkness.

twenty-four

Annis remained so fearful that Loren suspected the girl might shriek again and bring Gregor running at any moment. But the girl merely clung to her arm, whimpering slightly but otherwise silent.

“Why do you snivel so?” said Gem. “There is nothing to fear here, unless you are one of those girls who dreads rats.”

“I do not,” snapped Annis. Loren was glad, at least, to hear some spark in her tone. “Only I do not enjoy dark places, nor ones that keep me from the sky and unsoiled air.”

They passed another hole leading above. Gem eyed Loren in its light cobalt glow. “Where did you find this one? She whimpers like a frightened pup.”

“I told you,” Loren muttered, “she—”

“You told me you were kin.” Gem eyed Annis’s dark skin and Loren’s pale face. “I see that you take me for a fool, which is your folly. I have told you I might have been a scholar. And even a simpleton could see your claim is false.”

“It is . . . a distant relation,” Loren said, keenly aware of her limping excuse. Gem scoffed and said nothing.

To cover the awkward silence, Loren turned back to Annis. “How did you fare since we parted? What did you do after you fled?”

“Mostly just that. I rode heedless through the streets. Thank the King that our friends the constables rode no horses. Once I had well quit them, I abandoned my steed and sought dark alleyways to hide in. There I wandered for many hours, unsure what to do, until I determined to abandon my finery for these garments you see.” She raised her arms, drawing wide the patchwork cloak over her shoulders. “I found a clothier who kept many such peasants’ garments in his stores. He traded for my dress and some coin.”

“Did you meet a woman named Auntie?” said Loren.

Annis only looked at her, expression blank.

“She is young, only a few years older than I, and a weremage. She had skin like potter’s clay, but her hair glowed like wheat stalks in summer sun.”

“She might have looked like anything,” said Gem. “That will not help.”

Loren blinked. Of course, he was right.

“I met no one like any of that. I met no one at all. I sought only to hide, and to keep my face from being seen. Why would I seek anyone out?”

“Somehow, they caught wind of you,” said Loren. “Auntie and her children told Gregor where to find you.”

“The clothier,” said Gem. “I would wager he is one of Auntie’s eyes. She has many throughout the city, those she can count upon for a quick favor or a whisper of truth in her ear.”

Loren made a small, frustrated sound like a growl. “Then how may we evade her?”
 

“The longer you remain, the slimmer your chances,” said Gem with a shrug. “We must take passage, or she will kill us for certain.”

“Kill
us?” said Annis.

Gem stopped dead in the tunnel and turned to look at them. Bathed in a halo of moonslight, he said, “Of course, kill us. Do you think Auntie plays at some silly game? You, Loren, have now twice defied her. And you, the pretty noble’s daughter, may hope for some leniency, but like as not you will find none. Auntie knows a thousand dark holes perfect for a body.”
 

“But I’ve done nothing to her,” said Annis. “Why would she seek to harm me?”

Gem looked uneasily around him. “Understand, Auntie is always seeking ways to improve our station. Anything that may gain a few more coins for the children, or a week’s leniency from the constables. But when Auntie does not get her way . . . she angers swiftly.”
 

Loren thought she saw him shudder.

Annis clutched at Loren’s arm, her terrified eyes sunken and hollow. “We must leave this cursed place, quickly! We are beset on all sides, Loren, and buried under the earth besides. I cannot take this dark coffin a moment longer. I cannot—”

Annis broke off, breathing so heavily that the air wheezed in her throat. The girl’s legs buckled and pitched her to the stone, nearly throwing her into the stream of sewage. Loren grabbed her at the last moment and propped her up against the wall.

“Annis!” she cried. “What is it? What is wrong?”

“Hold,” said Gem, pushing Loren aside. He grasped the back of the girl’s neck and thrust her head toward the ground.

“What are you doing?” said Loren, trying to push him away.
 

Gem held her off with an outstretched arm and gave Loren a look of such calm certainty that she felt herself paralyzed. The boy hooked a hand under Annis’s knees, drawing them up to hold on either side of her head. He forced her head still farther down, and as he held her there Loren heard the girl’s breath ease into a gentler rhythm. She slumped back against the wall, shaking, tears in her eyes but finally calm.

“Some children get the terrors when they first come to Auntie,” explained Gem. “This is how we help them. I learned it early on. They say I could have been a medica, you know.”

“They say you could have been many things,” said Loren wryly. “But thank you.” She scooted forward on her knees, placing a soothing hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Annis? Are you well enough to go on?”

Annis looked up at her, blinking freshly wet eyes. “I do not want to. I want to leave this place.”

Gem grunted. “As well you should. We must move quickly, for I fear Auntie’s children may soon draw near, if they have not already. They are never as plentiful in the sewer as they are upon rooftops, but neither are these passages unknown.”

Together, they helped Annis on her feet, and now Loren kept a steady hand on the younger girl’s back, ready to support her. Gem pressed their pace hard, and before long he paused beneath another hole cut into the street. Loren knew not why this drainage differed from any other they had passed, but Gem pointed up with certainty.

Loren boosted him up first, for he was lightest. Once he peered around and waved them up, she seized Annis around her thighs, lifting her up and stretching as high as she could. Loren felt a moment’s strange gratitude to her father—whatever else he had given her in the way of bruises and beatings, she also owed him her height.
 

Gem seized Annis’s wrists and dragged her up into the moonslight. With a small hop, Loren gripped the edges of the drainage, and a moment later found herself under stars once again.

She could see nothing familiar. Gem set off down the alleyway, and Loren quickly followed. Annis’s shoulders still shook under Loren’s hand, but the girl’s relief at leaving the catacombs was almost palpable.

“The Elf’s Purse lies only a few more buildings away,” said Gem. “Soon, we’ll be safe and—”

He stopped short, leaping back to push them all against the wall. “Curse everything,” he snapped. “The place is watched.”

“Watched?” said Loren. “By whom?”

“Auntie’s children,” said Gem, his voice low and ominous. “See for yourself.”

Loren peeked around the corner, looking down the alley toward the inn’s back door. “I see nothing,” she whispered.

“Look at the roofs,” said Gem. “And watch for the glinting of eyes in shadow.”

Loren looked again. There. Atop the roof of the building facing the Purse, she saw the small mound of a child’s head. And in one corner where lurked a beggar, head hanging in his hands, she caught the flash of moonslight on two orbs—the large eyes of a child.

She ducked back out of sight. “How? How could they know of Xain? And what would they want with him, in any case?”

“I do not think they seek the wizard,” said Gem. “I believe they seek us. Some within the tavern spied us. One must have passed word to Auntie, and she sent her children to watch. She will never attack in plain sight but will wait for us to leave and murder in shadows.”

“How will we find our way back inside?” said Loren. “We must warn Xain. He is our only chance of leaving the city.”

“If they watch the back door, the front will be doubly guarded. That leaves only a window.” Gem pointed up.

Loren looked. In the second and third stories were windows like the one in Xain’s room. It seemed an easy climb, but she glanced at Annis beside her.

Annis looked back at her, uncomprehending. “What?”

“How are you as a climber?”

Annis glanced up at the window, and her eyes widened in shock. She looked back at Loren. “Surely, you jest.”

Loren sighed. “Wait here, then. Gem, you stay with her.”

“What will you do?” said the boy.

“Leave that to me.”

The inn had rough walls, with many chunks of plaster torn free through the years. Not too high up, plaster gave way to great wooden cross spars. Loren found a place where she could climb a few yards down the building’s length. She looked up and down the alley but saw only beggars lying oblivious.
 

Hand over foot, she scaled the wall until her fingers found the lip of a wooden beam. But just as she began to pull herself up, plaster gave way beneath her right toe. Loren nearly pitched into the street, saving herself by the tips of her fingers, wincing as many splinters dug into her flesh.

“Be careful!” Gem said.

“Be silent,” Loren growled. She tried again and this time managed to wrap her hands around a windowsill. Cautiously, she poked an eye above the ledge to look within the room.

She ducked down immediately, crimson rushing to her cheeks. The man and woman in that room would not take kindly to intrusion. Struggling to shove the image from her mind, she sidled along the side of the building toward the next room. A wide gap of wall stretched to the next window, nearly five feet in length. Again thankful for her height, Loren stretched until she could grab the sill with her fingertips and sidle below the window.

This room lay empty. Loren tried prying her fingers into the frame to pull the window open. Efforts failed her, and she reinforced her grip on the windowsill while studying the glass.

There. A lock at the top of the window held it shut. Loren dug for her dagger and drew it. Metal glinted strangely in the moonslight, throwing rays of blue into her eyes. She stared in wonder a moment before coming to her senses. Slowly she slid into a half crouch. With one swift movement, Loren brought the pommel stone crashing against a single pane. Glass tinkled to the floor, too loud for her comfort. She snaked a hand in, careful not to shred her skin on the shards, and tripped the latch.

The bottom of the window swung outward and struck her hip. She nearly pitched out into empty space, but her hands lashed out and clung to the sill. Loren yanked herself to the building, clutching its side as she fought to catch her breath and still her racing heart.

Gem whispered harshly from below. “Are you all right?”