He stepped over the charred bodies of guards and peered through the broken doors of the building. A large entrance hall lay beyond. Delicate staircases wound up toward the higher levels. Cery sighed with appreciation. Moving inside, he wondered why the Ichani hadn’t destroyed them. Perhaps they didn’t want to waste their powers. Or perhaps they had quite sensibly left the stairs standing so they could reach the upper floors.
Cery looked down at the mullook symbol on the floor. He doubted the King was still in the Palace. The ruler had probably left Imardin once the Inner Wall fell.
“Avala is going to be a problem.”
“Probably. She likes to wander. I expect she’ll wander away from Kyralia soon enough.”
“Got her eye on Elyne, I suspect.”
Cery spun around. The voices were distinctly Sachakan, and were coming from beyond the Palace entrance. He cast about, then ran toward an archway at the back of the hall. Just after he had skidded through it, he heard their footsteps echo on the hall floor.
“We all heard Rikacha’s call, Kariko,” a third voice said. “We know how he died. He was a fool for eating their food. I don’t see why we need to come back here to discuss his mistake, and Avala and Inijaka probably agree.”
Cery smiled. So Faren’s nasty little trick had worked.
“Because we have lost three already,” Kariko replied. “Any more, and it might be more than bad luck.”
“Bad luck?” the first Ichani scoffed. “The Guild got Rashi because he was weak. And Vikara might still be alive. We can only be sure that our slaves are dead.”
“Perhaps,” Kariko agreed. He sounded distracted. “But there is something else I want to show you. See these stairs? They look fragile, don’t they? As if they shouldn’t be able to hold their own weight. Do you know how they stop them falling down?”
There was no reply.
“They put magic in them. Watch this.”
Silence followed, then a tinkling sound. The sound grew louder, until the hall suddenly filled with a crashing and shattering. Cery gasped and peered through the archway.
The staircases were collapsing. As Kariko touched one railing after another, the beautiful structures buckled and dropped to the floor, fragments scattering everywhere. One slid in Cery’s direction. An Ichani glanced toward the archway, and Cery quickly ducked out of sight.
Leaning against the wall, Cery closed his eyes. His heart ached that something so beautiful could be so carelessly destroyed. From the hall he could hear Kariko laughing.
“Magician-made, they call it,” the Ichani said. “They put magic in their buildings to strengthen them. Half the houses in the middle of the city are made this way. What does it matter that the city is deserted? We can gather all the magic we need from the buildings.” His voice lowered. “Let the others wander for a while. If they had returned here, as I instructed, they would know this, too. Come with me and we’ll see how much power the Guild has left us.” Footsteps followed, then stopped. “Harikava?”
“I’m going to have a look around here. This place is probably full of magically strengthened structures.”
“Just don’t eat anything,” the third Ichani said.
Harikava chuckled. “Of course not.”
Cery listened as the footsteps retreated and faded away. One set remained, however, and his heart sank as he realized they were growing louder.
He’s coming this way.
Looking around, he saw that he was in a large room. Several archways broke the walls on his left and right. He hurried through the closest one. A corridor ran parallel to the room and a passage intersected with it opposite each archway. Cery cautiously peered out.
The Ichani stood within the room. He glanced around, then looked in Cery’s direction. As he started toward the archway, Cery felt his mouth go dry.
How does he know I’m here?
He didn’t fancy waiting to find out. Turning from the archway, he dashed away into the Palace.
36
An Unlikely Rescuer
A distant boom echoed through the passage. Akkarin exchanged a glance with Sonea, then moved to a ventilation grille set into the wall. She looked out into the alley beyond and listened carefully. Normally there would have been a constant hum of activity, but instead there was only an eerie silence.
Akkarin frowned, then signalled for their guide to continue. For several minutes the only noises were the soft sound of breathing and the tap of booted feet on the floor. Then Akkarin stopped abruptly and his gaze shifted to the distance.
“Takan says messengers are reporting that Kariko has come back out of the Palace again. The Ichani are destroying buildings.”
Sonea thought of the faint boom she had heard, and nodded. “They’re wasting their strength.”
“Yes.” He smiled and his eyes gleamed with an old, familiar predatory light.
Approaching footsteps drew their attention to a shadowy figure farther down the passages.
“Looking for the foreigner?” The voice was aged and female. “He just broke into a house near here.”
Akkarin started toward the old woman. “What can you tell me of the place?”
“Belongs to House Arran,” she said. “Has a big stable, and a yard in front, and a house the other side. Walls around it. No passages under it. Have to get in from the street.”
“How many entrances?”
“Two. The main one at the front, and a gate to the yard. The foreigner got in through the front.”
“Which is closest?”
“The gate.”
Akkarin looked at Sonea. “Then we’ll go in that way.”
The old woman nodded. “Follow me, then.”
As they started through the passages again, Sonea touched the ring on her finger.
— What are you planning?
— I’m not sure, yet. But I think it might be time to use your method.
— My method? You mean Healing?
— Yes.
— Then I should do it. He’ll probably recognize you, but he might not recognize me.
Akkarin frowned, but didn’t answer. The woman led them to a small door, which they squeezed through one by one. On the other side was a room full of barrels.
“We’re inside a house on the other side of the street,” the woman explained. “Just go up those stairs, and out the door at the end of the hall.” She smiled grimly. “Good luck.”
Following the woman’s instructions, Sonea and Akkarin reached a sturdy servants’ door. The lock was broken. Akkarin peered out, then pushed through. They stepped out into a typical Inner Circle street. Across the road was a plain wall, broken by a pair of large wooden gates. Akkarin strode swiftly to them, and looked through the narrow gap between.
“There are two entrances to the house from the courtyard,” he said. “We’ll enter through the closest.”
He glanced at the lock, and it clicked open. Sonea followed him through and shut the gate behind her. A large rectangular yard spread before them. To the left was a long building with several wide doors—the stable. To the right was a two-story house. Akkarin hurried to the house, manipulated the lock of a door, and they slipped inside.
A narrow corridor lay beyond. Akkarin gestured for silence. A distant creaking and footsteps from the floor above reached their ears.
Seeing a movement in the corner of her eye, Sonea glanced out a small window beside the door. She caught her breath as she glimpsed two magicians and a richly dressed man hurrying toward the stables.
Akkarin moved to her side. The three men reached one of the large stable doors. The magician’s companion threw the door wide, obviously expecting it to be heavier than it was. Sonea caught her breath as it smacked against the wall.