Nightblade: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 1) (21 page)

Loren looked down, nodded, and placed a finger to her lips. She slid into the room and went quickly to the bed. A blanket and sheet lay upon it, with another blanket folded on a table at the foot. Loren tied them into a line, thrice testing knots to ensure their strength.

She returned to the window and threw her impromptu rope into the darkness. She tied her end around one of the bed’s legs and leaned out into the darkness.

“All right,” she whispered. “Come up, Annis.”

Annis placed one hand on the blanket, and then another. She pulled, trying to climb, but her arms trembled and she slumped back to her feet. “I am not a climber!”
 

Loren sighed. She had feared this. “All right, then. Do your best to hold on, will you?”

Loren braced her feet against the wall and wrapped both hands firmly around the blanket. Checking her grip again, she pulled as hard as she could. Hand over hand, she tugged, and the blanket slid up the wall as if time itself had been stalled. A tense forever passed before pink hands finally appeared at the windowsill. Loren leaned out, hauled Annis in over the window frame, and watched her collapse, shaking on the floor.

Before Loren could throw the rope of blankets back down, Gem scrambled up and into the room. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, glancing down at Annis with disdain.

“See?” he said. “Not so hard, is it?”

Annis glared up at Gem but said nothing.

twenty-five

Loren coiled the blanket and sheets upon the floor. She saw no use in trying to hide them; she could not repair the glass, and in any case they must leave the inn immediately. She led her companions to the hallway and found the door to Xain’s room. Three quick raps she gave at the door, and there came a scuffle of boots within.

“Who is it?”

“Not the constables, certainly,” whispered Loren.

The door cracked open. “Keep your jests muted. Would you alert all the kingdom that we hide from the law?”

She pushed the door open farther and stole inside, reaching up to peel away her rags. “No time for that now. The inn is guarded.” Loren turned and ushered Gem and Annis into the room.

Xain’s eyes fell upon Annis, and Loren saw an eyebrow raise. “This is your . . . cousin, is it?”
 

“Yes, this is she,” said Loren. “Well removed, of course. On my mother’s side.”

“What kind of fool do you think I—” Xain stopped and leaned in closer, studying Annis’s face. His eyes shot wide, straightening his stance as he fell a step back. “Stars curse us all! What madness is this?”

Loren raised her hands, trying to calm him. “She flees her mother, and if she is caught—”

“No!” snapped Xain. Then, seeming to remember that he was, in fact, in hiding, the wizard glanced at the door and lowered his voice. “I should never have taken you into my care, but this would be the utmost folly. If you think I will smuggle a child of the family Yerrin, you take me for a madman who seeks only my demise.”

“Please,” said Loren. “We don’t have time for this. I told you the inn is watched.”

“I doubt it,” said Xain. “Why would the constables place guard? They would come, and their visit would not be pleasant.”

“Not the constables. The weremage. Or rather her minions.” Loren thought fast, and words spilled from her lips. “She has guards watch the place to ensure you do not leave. All while she fetches the constable to drag you from here by force.”

She saw Gem’s hard look behind Xain. The boy knew that for false. But the wizard remained their best chance for escape, and she could not afford to lose it.

Xain paled in light of his room’s single candle. “How did they find me? I took care to hide myself when I took to the streets.”

“Auntie has eyes in all places,” said Gem, stepping in to support Loren’s story. “One must have seen you.”

“And we must leave, quickly, before they can do aught about it,” said Loren. “But how, if the doors are guarded?”

“There is a way. The reason I chose this inn. Come, follow me.” Xain gave Annis one last despairing look and shook his head.

After Loren collected her cloak from under Xain’s bed, he led them back down the staircase. This time, they did not draw so much as a passing glance from any in the common room. Loren carefully studied them as she passed. One of these, she knew, had betrayed them to Auntie. She would give much to know who. But no eyes met hers, and she abandoned the search as Xain led them into another of the inn’s back rooms.

There stood a fat man with a wide, grease-stained apron. Loren took him for the innkeeper; he had the look, a portly good-natured face and clean-shaven chin. The man glanced up with surprise as they stormed into the room, his eyes roving across the children before resting on Xain.

“Good evening, Xain,” said the innkeeper. “Looking for a meal?”

“Not at this hour, Bartin,” said Xain, “though I thank you for your kind offer. I must leave your hospitality, quite a bit sooner than I had intended.”

Bartin’s eyes hardened, and he nodded. “I see. My thanks for doing what you may to keep your troubles from my door. Not good for business, that sort of thing. I will leave you to it, then.”

The innkeeper pulled down a sack of meal from a shelf and left the room. When the door clicked shut, Xain went to a panel set in the floor. He wrapped his hands around an iron handle and pulled up to reveal a stone staircase descending into darkness. An evil scent wafted up from below.

“No!” wailed Annis, backing away quickly. “Not again, I won’t! Please, there must be another way.”

Xain looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “There is no other way. This is how we escape, or not at all. You see now the only reason I frequent the Elf’s Purse. It is not for Bartin’s ale, bless him. Now come, for we must put as much distance between ourselves and this place as we can before the constables arrive.”

Loren went to Annis’s side and put an arm around her shoulders. “I am still here,” she said, keeping her voice warm. “I will not leave your side, just as I did not the last time. Come, Annis. It is this, or turn yourself back over to your mother.”

Annis swallowed, her throat muscles constricting. “Please, Loren,” she said, her voice pleading. “There must be another way. Let us escape through a window again, the way we came in.”

“Enough of this,” snapped Xain. “I am off. You may come, or not, as you will.”

The wizard descended the steps and vanished into the blackness. Loren heard him murmur, and with a sharp crackle, blue light bloomed in his palm. He turned to her at the bottom of the steps, his eyes glowing white.

“What say you? I will not wait.”

Loren put one firm hand on Annis’s shoulder, the other on her arm. It reminded her of Bern’s grip as he shoved her through the city. “Come now, Annis,” she said quietly. “One step at a time.”

Annis placed one foot on the top stair. Then another, and another. Foot by foot, she descended into the sewer beside Loren. Once their heads were both below the floor, Gem stole in behind them, waiting only a moment to shut the trap door behind them. In a moment, they had gathered around Xain, who still stood bathed in his own magefire blue.

“Very well,” said Xain. “I have another hiding place prepared. Follow quickly and quietly.”

“Aye, and keep a careful eye,” said Gem. “Auntie’s children are no strangers down here.”

The wizard nodded and set off, the others trailing in his wake. Loren held a careful eye on Annis, who mostly kept her own eyes closed. The girl breathed heavily, though not with the panic that had nearly crippled her earlier.

Xain paused at the first bend and turned back to them. “The passageway twists and turns most intricately. Do not lose sight of my magefire, and watch where you step. There are pits in the floor at times, the bottom of which you cannot see. Do not fall. If you lose yourself in the darkness, I cannot help you.”

“And you think you can help them now?” came a familiar, haughty voice.

Xain’s gaze snapped forward. He growled and, with a gesture, sent his blue magefire floating forward into the gloom until it came upon a figure in the darkness:
Auntie.

She had abandoned her tunic for a leather jerkin with loops of leather showing many gleaming knives. She held two blades, one per hand, odd weapons the likes of which Loren had never seen. Their handles wrapped her fingers with small steel triangles gleaming in the dark. Her pants, too, were tighter and less fancy, meant for fighting, climbing, and slipping through the dead of night to open a throat.

Loren saw something else: Auntie had brought more than the urchins she had seen at the pigsty. Before and beside her stood a small group of young men, ranging between Loren’s age and Auntie’s. All stood tall and corded with muscle; each held a weapon. Loren saw cudgels, sharpened sticks to serve as spears, and even one with a sword broken nearly in half, its edge still sharp. Around these boys, Auntie’s familiar crowd of children lurked at the edge of shadow, wide eyes gleaming in the magelight.

“I thought little Jarmo might bring you down here,” said Auntie, her voice a cool drawl. “Dear young Jarmo. How could you do this to your poor, sweet Auntie? The purse you have kept from my hands would have fed so many children.”

Gem quaked beside Loren without reply.

“But now I see you may have repaid your debt and brought double,” Auntie continued, looking to where Annis quivered under Loren’s hands. “That is the merchant’s daughter, unless I miss my guess. We will be well paid for her return. And if not . . . ah, well, there are many places in this city for little girls to disappear.”

Annis wailed. Loren squared her shoulders. “Leave us be! We have done nothing to you.”

Auntie smiled, her features growing cruel. Her face in the blue light, turning to something monstrous. “Of course not, you little witch. But I do this not for you, and certainly not for the farce they in this city call the King’s justice. It is for the children.” She splayed her hands wide within the hilts of her strange blades, indicating the dozens of urchins around them. “
My
children, with such wide mouths and empty bellies. All I do is for them.”

From the gaggle of goslings came a low murmur:
 

Mother, Mother, Mother.

Xain stepped forward, whispering words to summon another sphere of magefire in his left hand. He curled his right, and the ball of blue before Auntie swelled in size.
 

“If you hold yourself their mother, begone and do not pursue us. I wish you no harm but will not hesitate to bring fire and thunder upon you if you refuse to leave us be.”

Auntie cocked her head. “I think not. Children, these people keep coins from you. Take them.”

The children rushed forward, bare feet slapping on stones. Some leapt across the channel of refuse to circle the sides. Auntie’s young men marched behind them, slapping cudgels into their palms.

“Run!” Xain waved his hand, and the magefire split into a wall of sapphire flame that receded before springing to new life in front of the children. They pulled up short, wide eyes and silent mouths visible above the dancing flame.

Loren led the way, dragging a wailing Annis behind her. They rounded a corner, and she heard a loud
snap
behind them. Loren glanced over her shoulder to see nothing but darkness around the bend. “What happened to your flame?”
 

“I cannot control what I cannot see,” Xain growled. He pushed his second ball of magefire ahead down the passage and birthed another in his palm.

A wave of small bodies erupted before them, pouring from a side passage to block their path. Loren pulled up short, panic seizing her throat. They were trapped, with foes both ahead and behind.
 

“This way!” Gem jumped across the river of waste and landed hard on a platform of stone. Xain followed, turning to wave his magefire in front of the children. Again, they pulled to a stop, waiting for the fire to die before advancing.

Loren made to take the leap, but Annis clutched her arm. “I cannot! It’s too far. I . . . I . . . ”
 

Loren gripped the girl’s shoulders. “Not now, Annis! Right now we must get away. Do you understand? Otherwise, they will capture us, or worse.”

“Jump!” cried Xain, keeping the magefire bright.

“I cannot,” Annis said. “I can scarcely move . . . scarcely breathe . . . ”

Loren reached out and clapped a hand on either shoulder. “I am so, so sorry, Annis.”

Annis barely registered confusion before Loren wrapped her fingers in the shoulders of the girl’s tunic and heaved. Annis flew through the air, wailing as she neared the stone walkway on the other side. Loren did not throw her far enough—the upper half of her body landed hard on the stone while the lower half landed with a sickening splash in the river of waste. Loren thought the flow might sweep Annis away, but Gem wrapped his hands under the girl’s shoulders and hauled her up onto the stone.

Loren took two steps back, ready to leap. But just as she was about to take her first step, she caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eyes—a slim figure, flinging itself across the top of Xain’s flames to fly at her from the darkness.

Loren whirled and ducked just as Auntie’s blades sliced the air above her head. She drew her dagger without a thought.