The half-day they had spent leaving the mountains behind was a quiet one. Koldin devoted his attention to the path before them, and this allowed Ram to get to work formulating a plan of action. He didn’t have much. The obvious first step was to find Daniel, and he hoped that the section of Galaratheas still in use was limited enough for them to accomplish this quickly. Once they had located him, however, he had concluded they would have to improvise. He had briefly commented this problem with Koldin, and he had agreed. Without a thorough understanding of Daniel’s plight, no planning or predicting would be very profitable.
As he mused over their situation, an avenue opened up before them and stretched for several miles into the heart of the city, as straight as the shaft of a spear. Almost as wide as the Weeping itself, the open space allowed Ram to catch his first glimpse of their objective—a knot of buildings that had obviously been rebuilt once and again over the course of the last handful of decades. Though still too far away for them to be spotted by the naked eye, they quickly darted to the cover of an archway on the left side of the avenue. The street itself, while riddled with loosened cobbles, weeds, and the occasional pool of water, was in much better condition than the maze of ruins they had been traversing up until this point.
“We’re almost there,” said Koldin, pointing out the obvious.
Ram poked his head beyond the arch. He saw no movement. “Do you think it’d be better if we just knocked on the front door, so to say? They know I’m from Obenon, and who’s to say you’re not my second cousin?”
Koldin pulled him back and shook his head. “If Daniel’s been captured, then they’ll have marked you as well. You’re an accomplice. No, we must remain unseen for as long as possible. Stay close to me, and—just try not to be so bulky.”
Ram couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He let the comment slide. Like thieves approaching a palace, the two of them made their way down the avenue, sidling along the buildings, hidden in the shadows.
* * *
Moriah sat on a stool by the washtub with her chin resting on her hands and her elbows propped on her knees. Another splash of water flew her way, sloshing over her pant leg. She didn’t mind. In fact, watching Litty enjoy what was probably her first real bath in months—with warm water, plenty of soap, and room to play—brought her a satisfaction that she hadn’t felt in a long time. The three-year-old seemed to have forgotten her mishap with the other children at the fountain. The bubbly suds stuck to her hair, her face was rosy clean, and she found great fun in pretending her hands were tiny ducks, swimming to and fro and having playful conversations with each other in some duck dialect that only Litty spoke.
Moriah hadn’t spoken to her much since finding her in the plaza. Litty’s whispery voice indicated some form of dystonia which had probably afflicted her since birth, and it was enough for Moriah to know that she was safe and well cared for at last. Moriah had brought the girl to the block where the villagers from Obenon were still moving in their things. It didn’t feel right for a child to have to be kept in the military quarters, and no one stopped her from taking the little one into her charge. Maravek and the others were occupied setting up a watch for the Akorites, planning further transport for the villagers, and keeping a vigilant eye on the proceedings in the city. For the time being, she would not be missed.
Having claimed an empty room, she had been able to find one of the widows from Obenon, a woman by the name of Miryth, whom, after hearing of Litty’s plight, was more than willing to give Moriah the small washtub, a bar of soap, and some towels. She shooed them away with strict instructions to return to her as soon as Litty was clean for food. Moriah thanked the woman and quickly set about readying the tub for Litty. While the little girl splashed and giggled, Moriah scrubbed as much of the dirt from her pink dress and from the stuffed duck as possible and hung both in an open window where they could dry in the sun.
After a pleasantly long time of splashing and quacking, Litty’s bubbles had all been popped, there was more bathwater on the hardwood floor than there was in the tub, and Litty looked so much like a grinning oyster in a shell that Moriah couldn’t help laughing as she lifted her out of the washtub and stood her on one of the towels. She dried her, combed through her hair with her fingers, and slid the freshly-dried dress over her head.
“Ducky’s not quite dry yet,” said Moriah, “But we’re going to go eat, and maybe when we’re done she’ll be ready, okay?”
Litty looked disappointed, but she nodded. Miryth was waiting for them in her quarters with bread and steamed vegetables, her personal rations from the Preceptors. These she shared without ever losing her smile, and though Moriah politely refused, saying she would eat with the other Preceptors later on, the woman’s kindness touched her. Litty made quick work of the bread, and even poked through the vegetables with her plastic fork before sitting back, full.
Back in the empty room, however, Litty once again withdrew into a glum state. Her grin subsided, and she sat on the stool, swinging her feet up and down. Moriah watched her. She wanted to talk to the girl, to say something that would cheer her up, but anything she might have thought of seemed trite and useless.
Finally, she’d had enough. She motioned for Litty to come and picked her up. “We’re going to see Daniel, now.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, Litty’s eyes lightened. “Danny.”
“That’s right,” said Moriah. “We’re going to have to walk. Ducky will be safe here, and when we come back, she’ll be dry.”
Litty squirmed and reached for the door. Moriah closed the door securely behind them, descended a railed flight of dusty steps, and slipped quietly from the building into the cobbled street outside. Litty needed to see Daniel, and she would do everything she could to make sure that happened. Doubt shrouded her newfound sense of purpose, however. She knew where they were keeping Daniel, but she didn’t know what they would find when they got there. As she headed away from the heart of Galaratheas, she could only hope she wasn’t making a big mistake.
* * *
Ram and Koldin approached the inner wall with wary caution. While not nearly as imposing as the white behemoth that circled the outer perimeter, the second wall was intact, and, judging by the perfectly cut stones, had been rebuilt at least once in recent history. The gate, wide enough for two vehicles to pass through with room to spare, stood open, welcoming them to the safety that awaited beyond. Still, Ram felt a tingle down his spine.
He was about to step forward to investigate when Koldin pulled him back by the sleeve. “Guards.” He pointed.
Two Preceptors carrying automatic firearms leaned casually in the recesses of the gate, their dark uniforms making them all but invisible in the shadows under the towering archway.
“Doesn’t look like they’ve seen us,” said Ram, lowering his voice to a whisper, even though the guards at the gate were out of earshot.
Koldin shook his head. “I doubt we’re what they’re looking out for, anyways. These aren’t Kerrigan’s men—look at their weapons. Soldiers stationed in Galaratheas during the war, no doubt, under Maravek’s authority.” He made no attempt to hide the bitter edge in his voice.
“If they’re not on the lookout for us, then why—”
“The mountains,” said Koldin, “We’ve been lucky so far, but the outer circle of Galaratheas is just as dangerous as the forests that claimed it. Had we not arrived in the wake of the Preceptors and villagers, we’d likely have had our share of less timid animals coming at us.”
“Hmm.” Ram eyed the guards. They were bound to be spotted if they kept to the ample avenue, and even if they made it to the gate, he doubted they would be able to make it through, no matter their strategy. “Is there another way in?”
“The inner city is divided into four quarters,” said Koldin, tracing a circle on the cobblestones, “And if the whole perimeter has been restored—which it likely has—then all four gates will be in decent shape.”
“So they’ll be
guarded, too.”
“A safe assumption. However, Maravek can’t have more than a few dozen men at his command. The vast majority of Preceptor forces have long abandoned the outposts this far west. If we’re lucky, only the gates will be guarded, not the wall itself. We’ll circle to the east.” He drew a line with his fingertip. “There’s bound to be a way over the wall, or through it, if nature favors us.”
Ram agreed to his suggestion, and the two of them ducked down one of the many side streets that branched off the main road. They veered away from the gate, always keeping a row or two of crumbling houses between them and the inner wall, just in case Koldin was wrong and Maravek had posted soldiers along the entire perimeter. After a half hour, though, it was evident that this wasn’t the case, as the only signs of life they encountered were rats, snakes, and spiders that made Ram watch carefully where he placed his next step. Even this close to the wall, the streets were overgrown with ferns and wild grasses. Even a few trees sprouted from the stonework.
Every so often, Koldin would venture to the wall, looking for a breach or some means of scaling it. Ram would stay put. As Koldin put it, “If there are guards, it won’t do a lick of good if we’re both caught.”
As the second gate approached, Koldin finally found what he was looking for. He came back to the remains of what must have been a shop of some kind where Ram sat by a stagnant pool of water, waiting. A hint of excitement riding his voice. “There’s a way in,” he said, “But it’ll be tricky business. How good are you at climbing?”
Ram swallowed. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm climbing to the top bunk.”
Koldin grinned. “You’ll be fine.”
Together, they hurried to the place Koldin had found, and when they got there, Ram’s palms started to sweat. A stone pillar had been knocked out of its place under a third-story balcony of one of the wealthier mansions across the way. Half the balcony had crumbled to the patio below, and the pillar now leaned against the inner wall, where it had knocked loose a section of stones from the wall, leaving a jagged hole at least two thirds of the way up.
Ram stared up at the hole, blinking. “You call that a way in?”
Koldin patted him on the shoulder. “Scuttle up the pillar, squeeze through, and we’ll be on the other side. Ancient cities like Galaratheas always have buildings packed against the inner walls—we should be able to drop down to the rooftops.” He caught Ram’s apprehensive look. “Just put your hands and feet where I do.” With that, he clambered onto the base of the fallen pillar and began crawling his way up towards the hole in the wall.
Ram muttered a few choice words under his breath before following. The stone was rough to the touch, and by the time he made it up the base, his fingers were already scraped and numb. He proceeded inches at a time. Above him, Koldin was already waiting by the hole. He made it look so easy, but Ram had a terrible time balancing his bulky frame on the rounded pillar, and as he hugged his way towards the wall, he felt he would slide off and fall at any moment. The pillar reminded him of the log he, Daniel, and Kora had attempted to cross the Weeping River on, and the memory only made his limbs tremble all the more.
Still, he made it to the top none the worse for the wear, and after Koldin ducked through the hole, he squeezed his shoulders under the jagged stones of the wall, knocking his head on a protruding chunk of brick as he did so.
Koldin was right—the buildings on the other side of the wall rose high enough that they had little trouble dropping to the flat roof of a house, which, to Ram’s relief, didn’t cave in under them. As soon as he landed, he flattened himself next to Koldin. “What now?”
“Now,” said Koldin, “We’re in, and there will be Preceptors on every corner. Any clue where to find Daniel?”
Ram shook his head. From this vantage point, he could see a large portion of the inner city, and the number of houses, shops, taverns, and larger structures—any of which could be the one they were looking for—threatened to undermine his determination then and there.
“We’ll split up,” said Koldin. The edge was back in his voice. “If we each search two quadrants, we’ll have covered the inner city by nightfall. It’s not that big—just follow the Preceptors.”
Ram studied him out of the corner of his eye, and took a moment to reply. “We’re here to find Daniel,” he said. “Nothing else.”
Koldin made eye contact. “Of course.”
Before Ram could say anything else, Koldin descended the flight of steps that led to the street below and darted down an alleyway that led east. Ram bit his lip. “I guess I’ll head west,” he said to no one in particular.
He picked his way down the same way Koldin had gone and, with not a clue of where to start looking, set a quick pace into the western half of the inner city. Find Preceptors and follow them. Pretty logical thing to do, he had to admit. But if the Preceptors caught him sneaking around and recognized him, what would they do to him? He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.
* * *
The sound of a door slamming shut drew Daniel out of his self-induced stupor. He raised his head, his bleary eyes wandered towards the hall, and he found it within himself to wonder if someone was coming his way. He hadn’t seen another human being since Maravek took him in Obenon, and at this point, even the furry cellmate that had scurried away from underneath the cot would have been better company then the silent walls around him.
He’d long given up on shouting, as no one ever answered, and his throat had gone raw. He’d spent the last hour—or maybe two, or ten—sitting with his back to the far wall, his legs extended in front of him, staring at the floorboards between his thighs, as though he could intimidate them into giving him an explanation for this injustice. But the floorboards hadn’t been able to tell him why he was being held a prisoner, or why Litty had been ripped away from him, or why Ram was still gone, or anything at all.
Eventually, his anger had given way to more complex emotions that gnawed at his stomach like rats. He could still feel the impact of the branch hitting the Preceptor, and the numb shock that froze his mind and body when he realized the man was dead. At the time, he’d been acting on reflex. He saw an ally in danger, and he took action. But what if his eyes had deceived him? After all, it happened in the darkest hours of the night, and with all the adrenaline pumping through him, he wouldn’t put it past himself to have seen something one way when the truth was something else entirely. Up until now, he had utterly convinced himself that defending Preceptor Kerrigan was the right thing to do. But the longer he sat in his cell alone, the more he began to doubt everything that had transpired since that dreadful moment.
A wrenching realization settled down on him—everything that had gone wrong since the day of the evacuation was his own fault. If he had been paying closer attention, Litty wouldn’t have wandered off the train, and they would be safe together with the other villagers. If he had waited for the Preceptors from Galaratheas to arrive with help, as Kerrigan had instructed, his hands wouldn’t have Preceptor blood on them, and Litty would have been found all the same. And Ram…Ram was twice the man he was. Where Daniel had obsessed over finding Litty to the point that he put others at risk, Ram endured the dangers of the Untamables for his sake. Where Daniel would have left Kora to die at the hands of the Akorites, Ram launched himself into the unknown to do whatever he could to save her. Where Daniel had treated pretty much everyone around him with a cold shoulder, Ram had stood by him.
A dull ache blossomed anew in his chest. He missed Litty, of course, but he found himself missing Ram as well. He hadn’t taken the time to realize it until now, but Ram was a true friend, and he had wronged him. He had wronged a lot of people, and now he didn’t know if he would ever get a chance to make up for it.
Boots clomped down the hallway towards his cell. Daniel didn’t move. Whoever came for him, he would accept it, for though he had tried to deny it, he was guilty, and whatever punishment awaited him was just.
A Preceptor appeare
d at the door of his cell. The man was silent and grizzled, and his gray eyes peered down at Daniel in contempt and disdain. He fished a key from his vest pocket. The lock slid back with a metallic click. The Preceptor stepped in without a word, never taking his eyes off of Daniel.
Though the man’s countenance bespoke anything but helpfulness, Daniel needed to know. “Where is my sister?”
The Preceptor didn’t answer. A hint of a grin tugged at his thin lips, and the next instant, he brought his boot around and kicked Daniel in the shoulder, flinging back against the wall. Daniel reeled, stunned, as the boot came at him again.
* * *
The prison was on the north flank of the inner city, far removed from what used to be the mansions of the wealthy on the southern side. Back in the days of Galaratheas’s dominance, this prison would have been the last to fill its cells with street rats, thieves, and other creatures of bad habit, as a handful of other prison buildings scattered throughout the outer city would have taken priority in an attempt to separate the rabble from the rich. Now, however, the bars and locks remained intact only here, and so Moriah was sure this is where she would find Daniel. As she neared the facility at the end of a narrow avenue, she kept her eyes open for other Preceptors, and began running through a handful of excuses in her mind. Though no one had given her explicit orders to the contrary, she didn’t feel Maravek would approve of her bringing Litty to see Daniel, and even if Maravek himself wasn’t likely to be here, he would have surely left a guard or two.
Litty plodded along at her side, quiet as a mouse, her little hand in Moriah’s grasp. How would this little flower react to seeing her older brother in a cell? Would she understand? The closer they got, the more Moriah second-guessed the wisdom of her decision, but it was too late to go back. She realized that she was doing this as much for Daniel as she was for Litty. She cringed as she recalled the violence with which Maravek had taken Daniel in Obenon, and her disgust made her straighten her shoulders and gave her a confident stride in her step. She was loyal to Tess, not Maravek, and with Tess being held prisoner because of Maravek’s cowardice, she refused to feel remorse going against an unspoken command.
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