by C. Greenwood
“Priests in olden times used this as a place to store valuables,” Hadrian informed me as I stepped inside. The air smelled musty in here, and cobwebs brushed my face.
But I was in no position to complain, as Hadrian rolled the door closed behind me. Instantly I was engulfed in complete darkness. I had only a brief moment to wonder if I was making a mistake, if I could trust the young priest not to give away my hiding place. Then I heard the sounds of muffled voices. Someone had burst into the room. I couldn’t make out what passed between Hadrian and the new arrivals, but the noises from the other side of the wall suggested the room was being searched. I held my breath, waiting to see if my hidden alcove behind the bookshelf would be discovered—or if Hadrian would betray me. I gripped the handle of my belt knife, although it would do me no good if I was discovered by the guards. I would be outnumbered and helplessly cornered in this confined space. There would be no question of battling my way free.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the noises from outside faded away. Had my enemies gone? I waited a little longer, hearing my heartbeat thudding in my ears in the deep silence that followed. Then there came a scraping sound as the panel before me moved. A sliver of light appeared around its edges and grew wider as the false wall was slid aside. The library seemed bright after so long in the darkness. I blinked at the outline of Hadrian standing at the opening.
“The soldiers are gone for now,” he said lowly. “But they may return later. I think it’s best if you remain in hiding until they leave the temple altogether. Later, after nightfall, we can smuggle you out through the side door.”
“Unless they’re still guarding the grounds,” I said.
“Even if they are, you can’t stay here indefinitely,” he answered. “Tomorrow I take my vows as a Blade of Justice and leave town with a group of mentors to begin my formal training. It’s all arranged. I cannot change plans at the last instant to stay and conceal you. It would cause questions.”
He didn’t add that he wasn’t sure how long he wished to go on helping someone he regarded as a murderer. But I suspected we were both thinking it. He had bent his principles more than I had any right to expect already. I could ask for no more.
“I’ll leave as soon as darkness falls,” I agreed.
I spent several hours crouching in the dim alcove behind the bookshelf. Hadrian eventually passed me food and drink, which was welcome since I had eaten nothing all day. I had been too nervous early this morning to breakfast before setting out for the temple. The young priest kept the panel cracked a little to allow me fresh air but not open wide enough that anyone entering the room would immediately notice it. He sat in one of the chairs before the empty fireplace, as if occupied with his reading. But I knew he was really guarding me in case any of the priests wandered into the library and needed to be dissuaded from lingering.
After a long time, we finally judged the hour had arrived. Hadrian left briefly and returned to say he had checked the temple and grounds and found all unguarded. There would never be a better time to make my escape. Hadrian went down the hall before me, making sure the way was clear, and I followed. We met no one. After a few minutes, we reached the still room with the small door that led off into the side garden.
“This is where we part,” Hadrian said. “Since I leave Selbius tomorrow, I don’t expect we’ll ever see one another again.”
He didn’t say he was sorry of that, and I couldn’t blame him. I had been a great deal of trouble during our short acquaintance. I thanked him for his help.
He waved off my gratitude. “I hope you find peace and can return to a brighter path, my nameless friend,” he said, opening the door for me.
I hesitated. I had forgotten I had never given the priest my name. Originally, I avoided sharing my identity because I didn’t trust him. Now it suddenly seemed wrong we part without a real introduction.
“I have a name,” I told him. “It’s Luka.”
I wasn’t sure what made me give up my birth name, rather than my adopted identity of Rideon. Maybe it was because I respected Hadrian as a man of integrity. Rideon wasn’t someone I wished him to know. But Luka might have been his friend in different circumstances.
Hadrian nodded slowly, as if guessing the significance of what I had shared. “All right then, Luka. I hope you find your true self again.”
How did he know I was lost? There was no time to wonder at his uncanny instincts. The door stood open, and freedom beckoned to me.
I said a hasty farewell and ducked out into the garden. Immediately the darkness wrapped around me like a cloak. Feeling sheltered by the deep shadows of the tall trees and surrounding walls, I hurried to the spot where I had hid my bow. The weapon and my arrows were still there. Shouldering them, I clambered over the ivy-covered wall and dropped to the ground below.
Moving as stealthily as a ghost, I flitted away from the temple and down the street toward the common district. There, beneath the faint light of a silvery moon, I lost myself in the maze of back alleys I knew so well.
* * *
There were city guardsmen patrolling the streets even at this hour, doubtless looking for the assassin who had escaped them at the temple. I managed to avoid the armed men. Whenever I saw them approaching in the distance, I clambered over walls or ducked down backstreets until they passed. Unwilling to endanger Javen and his family by returning to them, I realized I would have to find a new place of concealment. I could send for the belongings I had left at his house later, but for now I needed to give the place a wide berth. I had been thinking about this during the long hours spent hiding in the Temple of Light. I knew where I had to go.
The beggar’s quarter looked different under moonlight, its rough hovels and tall, abandoned buildings casting sinister shadows across the cobbled way. When I reached my familiar destination, I moved aside a heavy metal grate covering the entrance. From here, I entered the cold, dark stairway that spiraled down into the belly of the under-levels. Glimmer stones embedded in the walls cast an eerie greenish glow over the stone steps I descended. I had never thought to visit this place again. And yet, like so many of the desperate folk encamped in the levels below the streets of Selbius, I had no place else to turn.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I entered a vast cavern crowded with poorly constructed tents and hovels. Ragged blankets were strung over rough frames. Old gates or doors were leaned against broken bits of lumber. These were the flimsy walls that divided their inhabitants from the mass of unsheltered folk sleeping on the open floor.
Most of the under-dwellers were resting at this hour. The persistent sounds of coughing and the noises of fussy infants reminded me of the prevalence of disease and hunger in this place. But the sick and the homeless weren’t the only people to seek refuge here. It was also a convenient place for thieves or violent criminals to avoid the eyes of the law. And now more than ever I belonged to that last group.
Exhausted from the events of the day, I found a quiet spot in an offshooting tunnel that was less crowded than the main cavern and lay down to sleep. Clutching my bow in one hand and the handle of my belt knife in the other to discourage any would-be troublemakers, I closed my eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I couldn’t have slept more than an hour before I was awakened by something bumping against my side. I swung at it drowsily, thinking it was only a sewer rat. But the thing kept nudging me.
A familiar voice drifted down to me. “Wake up, Rideon. We need to talk.”
I blinked, eyes still blurred from sleep, and squinted up at the speaker.
For a second the hazy form towering over me was like a beautiful vision, a delicate face framed by a glowing halo of silvery hair. Then her booted toe nudged me harder in the ribs.
“Get up,” she demanded, her sharp voice contrasting with her soft image. The unearthly glow that had surrounded her swiftly faded. It had only been the greenish glare from the glimmer stones.
Irrita
ted, I caught her foot before it could kick me again. “What do you want, Ada,” I grumbled tiredly. “What are you even doing here? I specifically asked your grandmother not to tell you where I went.”
“And you think I need to be told where you’re headed when you disappear from camp the very day we get news of the praetor of Ellesus’s death? I wasted no time searching Dimmingwood but came straight here, where I’ve been combing the city. Knowing the praetor hanged you once for attempting to murder him, I guessed you’d have some interest in his death again.”
“Well, I don’t,” I defended, sitting up. “I’m not here for that praetor.”
“Then why did you return to Selbius without a word of goodbye?” she asked. “And why are you hiding in the under-levels instead of our old haunts? To avoid the thief king?”
“That and other reasons. Instead of making me explain myself, how about helping me think of a plan to avoid the city guard and slip out of the city?”
“Why? What has the city guard to do with you now?” she asked. “Anyway, you can forget escaping town without their notice. They’re turning Selbius upside down, looking for some criminal or other. I passed by the gates earlier, and they’re heavily guarded now. Whatever happened up at the temple today has increased their vigilance. No one enters or leaves without being questioned.”
“Then I’ll just have to acquire a disguise,” I said. “Or maybe climb the walls and swim for shore. I’ve done it before.”
“And nearly died,” she pointed out. “Why are you so desperate to escape? What brought you back here in the first place? Have you forgotten you’ve crossed the guild and made an enemy of the late praetor’s family?”
“Not all his family,” I admitted. “One of them helped me kill the praetor of Camdon today.”
My expression must have told her I wasn’t joking. Maybe it was because she had caught me off guard and half-awake. Maybe it was because I felt too burdened to keep everything to myself anymore. But I told her all about the assassination at the temple. That led to giving the reasons for it, finally telling more than I ever had about my family and my past.
I expected her to be stunned by the revelation that I was the son of a congrave. But she showed little surprise at my background. Maybe she had always known there was something different about Ferran and me. She was sympathetic to my father’s death and my long imprisonment, but she was quick to return to the events of the present.
“I knew you’d get yourself into trouble if I didn’t come after you and put a stop to it,” she said. “Only I thought it was the thieves’ guild you’d need protecting from. I never thought you’d be fool enough to try to assassinate another praetor.”
Despite the words, her tone wasn’t harsh, merely matter-of-fact. “We’ll have to get you back to Dimmingwood somehow.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” I corrected, frustrated. “If you’ve got ideas, I can use them. But beyond that, I don’t want to involve you. You shouldn’t even be here. Your connection with me will bring you enemies from all directions.”
When she waved that aside, I asked why she was so interested in my fate.
“I’m not only protecting you for your own sake but for Ferran’s,” she reminded me. “I came to care about him like one of my own little cousins. I couldn’t save him in life, but saving you is the least I can do for him.”
That briefly silenced me, as any mention of my brother would. Still, I told Ada to go back to the woods and leave me to whatever came. In her usual stubborn way, she refused.
* * *
We hadn’t been hiding in the under-levels a full day when we received a pair of unexpected visitors. Although they attempted to disguise themselves under simple, hooded cloaks, they instantly stood out among the desperate and impoverished surroundings. The fabric of their clothes was fine, their boots well made, and they walked with a proud stance that didn’t match the creeping furtiveness of the other inhabitants.
As soon as Ada drew my attention to the newcomers’ approach, I went to them and confronted the one in the lead. His was a face I knew well enough but never expected to see here.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you mad that you would come to this place? And at such a time when all the city is in an uproar?” I demanded.
Tarius smirked at my outburst, but beneath the shadow of his hood, his eyes looked uneasy. “Do you presume to tell me when I may come and go, my Valko?” he asked.
Valko was the name of his father’s servant, the one I had fought with during my effort to rescue Ferran from the castle. The man had performed the old praetor’s dirty work, the evil tasks that couldn’t be assigned to anyone else. It amused Tarius to think I now served him in a similar capacity.
“I am nothing like that Valko. And we had an arrangement,” I said through gritted teeth, mindful of the ears around us. “We cannot talk here. We agreed to avoid one another after the event and not to meet until things settled down.”
For an instant Tarius allowed his mask of confidence to slip. “I had no choice. It was necessary to bring someone to you,” he said.
I looked to the figure beyond him and, for the first time, recognized the shadowed face hidden beneath that hood.
It was Habon, Tarius’s elder brother. He was soon to be made praetor of Ellesus since the death of his father. I didn’t know whether to be surprised or angry with Tarius for bringing him here. I opted for both.
“All right. This way,” I snapped at the two young men, jerking my head toward an offshooting tunnel leading from the main cavern.
Ada hurried ahead of us, leading the way to the flimsy shelter we had constructed in a lonely, out-of-the-way space. It was little more than a large sheet of canvas the magicker girl had found somewhere, draped over a few wooden beams. Immediately after Ada had come to me and refused to be pried away and sent back to the woods, we had worked to build the tent out of scraps. Its thin walls would provide little privacy, but at least it would shield us from curious eyes. I was painfully aware of the conspicuousness of our guests, made plain by the stares they attracted from the level dwellers around us. I wasn’t the only one to notice the fineness of their boots or the glint of a jewel-studded dagger revealed beneath the edge of Tarius’s cloak.
I stooped beneath a beam, entering the shaded interior, and whirled on the two visitors as soon as they followed me in.
“Perhaps now you will tell me what he’s doing here?” I asked Tarius, pointing to his brother.
Habon looked taken aback, maybe wondering that someone as common as me dared speak so boldly to his brother. But I ignored the primary heir to the praetorship. Right now my attention was on Tarius.
Tarius said, “I brought Habon because the escalation of events has caused me to realize it’s important that he meet you. More than that, when I told him about you, he insisted on seeing with his own eyes the escaped son of the dead congrave.”
I started as if struck by a blow. It had never occurred to me that Tarius might tell his brother or anyone else of my past. Having my true identity so casually stripped away made me more vulnerable than ever. Exactly how much did Habon know about me?
Tarius seemed oblivious to my discomfort as he continued. “I’ve told Habon the story of how you alone escaped the injustice the praetor of Camdon visited on your family. I’ve explained how, after newly meeting you by chance and learning why you assassinated the praetor in the temple, I’ve become sympathetic to your situation.”
It wasn’t an accurate summation of events. I didn’t know what tale Tarius had invented about how we became acquainted with one another, but it wasn’t lost on me that he had neatly avoided mentioning his own part in the assassination. He made it sound like he knew nothing until after the fact, as if he were merely a concerned bystander.
But I didn’t contradict him before his brother. Something steely in his eyes warned me that I would make an enemy of him if I did so.
Habon interrupted before Tarius could continue. He had bee
n staring at me hard ever since his arrival. “You look familiar to me,” he said. “Have we seen one another before?”
My mind flashed back to his presence at my hanging in Deerwood a short time ago. He had been among the onlookers but perhaps hadn’t examined me too closely at the time.
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” I lied.
“Of course,” he muttered. “It’s impossible.” But he kept staring, as if trying to place me. Maybe he had taken more notice of me that other time than I thought.
Tarius carried on as if there had been no interruption. “I have brought Habon here in hopes of convincing him to share my feeling,” he told me. “I hope that, together, we may persuade him to take pity on your plight, to see that in your confused state at the time, the praetor of Camdon’s death seemed like a form of justice. In short, I wish to influence him to call off the search for the other day’s ‘mysterious’ assassin. As the head of the city guard and our father’s personal guard, the Iron Fists, it is in his power to put a stop to it before the culprit is uncovered. Such an act of compassion would be a mercy to one who surely deserves it after the tragedies of his past.”
Habon shifted, looking uncomfortable. “As I’ve told you already, my brother, I cannot do that.”
He glanced at me, and his curious gaze briefly flickered to Ada behind me. “It’s not that I’m unsympathetic to your situation,” he said. “In a way, I admire your desire to avenge your father. But as future praetor, I can’t condone taking the law into your own hands, whatever the circumstances.”
It was strangely similar to what Hadrian had said earlier. It seemed the priest and Tarius’s brother were cut of the same cloth.
“Besides,” Habon continued, “it isn’t only a question of principle. To call off the search for the killer before the guilty party is revealed would be an insult to Camdon and to all the nobles of that province. This assassination occurred while their ruler was a guest under our protection, and they have a right to expect a thorough investigation. Indeed, all the provinces will be outraged if we aren’t seen to do our utmost. Believe me, I hope for your sake you escape the net. But I can’t officially aid you in it. And if you’re caught, I can’t intervene with a pardon.”