“Go,” he said, turning to fix her with a cold stare. “I must do this alone.”
“Do what?”
“Just do as I say, Sonea.”
She could not help feeling a pang of hurt and anger at the impatience in his tone. This was not a good time for him to be mysterious and secretive with her. If they parted, how would they find each other again? Then she remembered the ring.
“Should I put on your blood ring now? You said we should wear them if we’re separated.”
A look of alarm crossed his face, then his expression softened. “Yes,” he said, “but I will not put yours on yet. I would not show you what I fear I may see in the next hour.”
She stared back at him. What would happen that he didn’t want her to see? Did it have something to do with Lorlen?
“I must go,” he said. She nodded, then watched him stride away.
After he had disappeared, she hurried into the North Quarter. Reaching the shadows of an alley, she took his ring out of her pocket and considered it. His warning from the previous night repeated in her mind.
“Sometimes, hearing and knowing exactly how another person regards you can be an unpleasant experience. It can end friendships, turn love to resentment...”
But they had to be able to contact each other when apart. She pushed aside her doubts and slipped the ring onto her finger. No feeling of his presence appeared at the edge of her thoughts. She searched, but sensed nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t working.
No, she thought, the maker controls how much the wearer senses. But the maker couldn’t stop sensing the wearer’s thoughts and experiences. That meant Akkarin was attuned to her every thought now.
Hello? she thought.
No answer came. She smiled and shrugged. Whatever he was doing, he wouldn’t want her distracting him—and the last thing she wanted to do was divert his attention when he most needed to concentrate.
She followed the guide’s directions and found the passage entrance easily. To her surprise, Faren was waiting inside. His second, the silent man who had watched her approach the Thief only a day before, stood beside him.
“The Guild have killed an Ichani,” Faren told her excitedly. “I thought I’d tell you myself.”
She smiled and felt her mood lighten a little. “Now that’s good news. What about the rest of the Ichani?”
“The woman is roaming about on her own. The one with the slaves was still in Northside at the last report. I expect the rest are heading for the Palace. Where’s your constant companion?”
She frowned. “Had to sort something out on his own. I’m to find the Ichani with the slaves, then sit.”
Faren grinned. “Then let’s go find him.”
After a short trip, they emerged in an alleyway. He led her to a high stack of boxes and stepped through a narrow gap. At the center was a cramped space. He crouched and rapped on something metallic.
Sonea smothered a groan as a hatch opened and an unpleasant smell wafted out.
“The sewers again.”
“I’m afraid so,” Faren replied. “They’re the most direct route out of the city.”
They descended into the murky darkness. A man with a wide face stood by the ladder, a lamp in one hand and another casting a pool of light around his feet. The Thief took the lamp and started along the ledge that ran down one side of the tunnel. They passed several hatch guards. At one point, Faren told her that they had just passed under the Outer Wall. When they climbed out of the sewer, she found herself in a familiar part of the slums. Faren quickly led her back through a grate in a wall to the Thieves’ Road.
A boy waiting inside informed them that the lone Ichani and the slaves were now only a few streets away.
“They’re headed for the main road,” the boy said.
“Tell everyone to be ready, then report back.”
The boy nodded, then hurried away.
After a short journey, they ascended into a house and climbed up a rickety staircase to the second floor. Faren led her to a window. Looking out, Sonea saw that the Sachakan slaves were standing in the street below. The Ichani was watching as two emerged from a bakery carrying trays of rolls. Several of the limek-like animals were fighting over a reber carcass. The carts were nowhere to be seen.
The boy from the Road entered the room. His eyes were bright with excitement.
“Everything’s ready,” he announced.
Sonea looked at Faren questioningly. “For what?”
“We set up a few traps for the Sachakans,” Faren explained. “It was Cery’s idea.”
She smiled. “Of course. What’s the plan?”
He moved to a side window. Below, a small walled courtyard backed onto a narrow alleyway. Two heavily built men held a long metal pole with a sharpened point to the wall. They glanced up at the window anxiously. Faren gave them the signal for “wait.”
“Another two are on the other side of the alley,” Faren told her. “There’s a hole in each wall, filled with false mortar. One of our fake magicians will lure the Ichani into the alley. When he reaches the right place, the men will skewer him.”
Sonea stared at him in disbelief. “That’s your plan? It will never work. The Ichani’s shield will protect him.”
“Maybe he’ll get lazy, and think the walls are enough protection.”
“Maybe,” she said, “but there’s only a slim chance he will. You’re taking a terrible risk.”
“Do you think our helpers don’t know that?” Faren said quietly. “They know there’s a good chance it won’t work. They’re just as determined to fight these Sachakans as you are.”
She sighed. Of course the dwells wanted to fight, even if it meant taking enormous risks. “Well, if it doesn’t work, I should be down there to—”
“Too late,” Faren’s second said. “Look.”
Moving to the street-side window, Sonea saw that the Ichani and his slaves were approaching. A group of youths ran out in front of them from the other side of the street and began throwing stones. As the Ichani stepped toward them, Sonea heard a muffled shout and saw a, robed man walk out into the street from somewhere directly below her. He strode toward the Ichani, then stopped at the alley entrance. As the Ichani saw the fake magician, he smiled.
A strike flashed through the air. The fake magician dodged, narrowly avoiding it. He dashed into the alley.
Sonea hurried to the side window. The two men with the spear were poised and ready. Surely it wouldn’t work... but if it did... She felt a stab of alarm as she realized what would happen.
“Faren, I have to get down there.”
“There’s not enough time,” he told her. “Watch.”
The Ichani strode into the alley. The robed man had stopped. Sonea could see the faint flare of a barrier blocking his path. When the Ichani was a step away from the hidden men, the fake magician yelled something. The spears burst through the wall...
... and sank deep into the Ichani’s body. The Sachakan yelled in surprise and pain.
“It worked!” Faren crowed. Sonea heard similar triumphant cries from outside, muffled through the window. She shuddered in sympathy as she saw the agony in the Ichani’s face. As he began to sag against the spears, she knew she would never have time to get to him before he died.
Nevertheless, she smashed the window and yelled at the men below.
“Get away from him!”
They stared up at her in surprise.
Then everything went white.
She threw a shield around herself, Faren and his second. A moment later, the wall of the room exploded inward. Searing heat radiated through her shield, forcing her to strengthen it further. She felt the floor tilt and drop away, and the sensation of falling. As she landed, she tumbled to her knees.
Then the released magic of the dead Ichani abruptly ended. She found she was crouched on top of a pile of bricks and smoking wood. Standing up, she saw she was surrounded by a circle of ruins.
Everything for a hundred paces in any direction was now charred, smoking rubble. Sonea looked toward the alley, but there was no sign of the men who had wielded the spears. She felt a terrible sadness. I could have saved them, had I known what they’d planned.