Hannah came up behind him. ‘What is it? Did you see something?’
‘Someone just opened the gates at Sandcliff Palace.’ He did not turn to look at her.
‘What does that mean for us?’
‘It depends on who it was. If it was Fantus, my old friend Gilmour, I have great hope for the future. But if it was Nerak, my other old friend, then we may have reached the end of a long road, Hannah. I’m sorry you’ll be here to witness it.’
‘So what do we do?’ Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat.
‘There is not much we can do – we’re too far away. Our only option is to press on. We need to get to Welstar Palace and to try and have you home before things begin to come apart over here.’
‘That’s it?’
‘I can try to contact Fantus, but it’s very difficult – unless he’s in a place where he is prepared, and willing to hear me, he won’t. I hesitate to try it until I know who is at Sandcliff – if it’s Nerak, he would be able to locate us.’
‘Why, if he’s way over there?’
‘He has some pretty reprehensible characters working for him over here, Hannah.’
She shrugged. He was right; she should have thought of that. They had no choice but to push ahead and wait for Nerak to unleash a horror that would either destroy them, or enslave them for all time. ‘How will you know if Nerak is the one there?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his answer.
‘If we live out the Twinmoon, I will be fairly confident that Fantus opened the gates. Otherwise, I don’t believe it will take long for Nerak to eradicate all of us here in Eldarn.’
‘You should come with me. You all should. It’s safe over there, absurdly safe, compared to this place. The most I do for safety each day is wear a bike helmet, and most of the time that’s just because my mother insists.’
Alen shook his head. ‘Hoyt may go with you. He has always been a seeker of wild adventures. Churn and I have business here.’
Hannah grabbed his arm, determined to be heard. ‘It doesn’t have to be that way, Alen. You don’t all have to die.’
Placating her, he nodded. ‘Perhaps not.’ Then leading her back to their table, he added, ‘Let’s eat. We may all be dead tomorrow, anyway, so we might as well enjoy some decent food while we can.’
The man was shaking with what Brexan guessed were equal parts rage and terror. ‘I want you out of here.’ He wasn’t certain if the unpredictable woman was about to draw a knife and open his throat.
‘I paid you well.’ She kept her voice low, not wanting Sallax to overhear their discussion. His sister’s death had plunged him back inside himself, closing Brexan out and refusing to speak about it. She worried whatever progress they had made together had been completely lost; she was horribly afraid the mumbling, violent creature she had encountered in the streets would return without warning; she didn’t need the tavern keeper’s intransigence as well.
Worrying about Sallax had worn her down; waiting each night for the raiding parties had not helped either. Her back ached; her neck hurt, and she fought off a huge yawn as she deliberated with the old man.
‘I’ll give you that silver back,’ he stammered, ‘or what’s left of it, but you two can’t stay another night.’ He looked as though throwing them out was the hardest thing he had ever done – he must have kicked out hundreds of drunk, poor or violent customers in the past two hundred Twinmoons, so why he was so scared of her was a mystery.
Brexan glanced past him to where the staff were eavesdropping near the scullery door. Although many had grown angry when they realised she and Sallax were the reason the Redstone had been searched again and again, they stared at the floor, embarrassed at their own cowardice – even the young waiter who had helped keep up Brexan’s cover. She frowned at them. She was pretty sure it was they who had pressed the owner to evict the fugitives.
‘Are you having trouble hearing me? I said I want you out now,’ he repeated, as he cowered beneath the bar, his hands raised to ward her off.
Brexan knew she couldn’t blame them for being wary: no one wanted to draw the attention of the Malakasian forces, and neither she nor Sallax were one of them, after all. Having Seron warriors kicking doors down every night would invariably mean some of them would be hanging from the rafters, tags marking them out as traitors looped around their necks.
‘Fine,’ she said finally. ‘I want the silver back, at least what you have left of it. We’ll be gone before midday.’
‘You need to understand that-’
‘I don’t need to understand anything,’ she snapped and he shut up, backing away from her. ‘I will get our things together and we’ll go. You just find your purse – and keep your rutting mouth shut.’ She flushed. Before the last Twinmoon, she would never have even imagined herself speaking this way to an elderly person, regardless of how reprehensible or irritating he might be. She didn’t recognise herself any more, not emotionally, not physically: she was too thin and her hair was crooked. Her body ached all over – and worst of all, she was a fugitive, a traitor playing nursemaid to an enemy of Malakasia. Suddenly she wanted to apologise, to say she understood he was just protecting his business and his people – but he was already gone.
Keep the coins. I stole the silver, anyway, she thought to herself sadly.
In the front room, she leaned over Sallax and whispered, ‘Stay here. Try to eat something. I’ll be right back.’ She took some bread and a chunk of cheese from his plate and went up to their room.
It didn’t take long for her to pack; she had stolen what they could carry from Carpello’s office, but that didn’t amount to much more than a few items of clean clothing for Sallax. Brexan stuffed everything into the bag she had lifted on her first morning in the city, donned her cloak and threw Sallax’s over her arm. She had seen a quiet place on the outskirts of the city, the day she discovered Brynne’s body on the salt marsh. They would go there.
Sallax needed time, and Brexan had to provide it; without him, her only option would be to start making enquiries about the Resistance, and she didn’t fancy her chances there. So Brexan would steal all the silver they needed to stay on in Orindale until Sallax recovered and they found Garec and the partisans from Estrad, and until both Carpello and Jacrys lay dead.
She slipped through the doorway into the upstairs hall. She had become talented at moving through the city undetected; if she could discover what Carpello and Jacrys were shipping to Pellia, that information might earn her a position with the Eastern Resistance. She would torture Carpello until he told her everything – but Jacrys would never break under interrogation; Brexan had read that in his eyes. She wouldn’t bother trying to question him; she would just kill him.
She was nearing the top of the stairs leading down to the front room when she heard the tavern door crash in. Sallax! Without thinking, she hurried down a few steps and bent to get a clear view of the front room.
Two Malakasian officers, one the captain who had led the last raid, appeared in the door, trailed by five Seron warriors, who immediately fanned out and began moving patrons to the back of the room. One customer, a middle-aged man sitting alone, hesitated, apparently too frightened to move. One Seron punched the man across the temple and he toppled backwards over his chair and fell to the floor, where he lay quivering in a gathering puddle of blood. This was more than a raid; someone had made the connection between the inn and the two fugitives. Brexan couldn’t see Sallax, so turning as quietly as she could, she moved back up the steps to the landing.
A guttural shout from below told her that she was too late; an instant later, she heard the heavy clumping of Seron boots as one of the monsters charged up the stairs after her. As Brexan ran for the back stairwell he was close behind; she could almost feel his foul breath on her neck. She glanced back for an instant: the half-human animal had wild eyes, flaring nostrils and huge, crooked yellow teeth. It – maybe a he – was gaining ground fast. Brexan threw the bag at its feet, hoping it might trip and give her an instant more to escape, but the ploy didn’t work.