Si glyph [https://i.imgur.com/mHhTdaF.png]

Keeping a tight hold on Sam, Simon limped through the narrow, twisting streets of the slums. To reach Danta’s storage space, he’d have to enter the undercity. There were entrances on almost every street, and the prospect of getting out of the rain was tempting — but not here. The slums above ground were bad enough. What lay beneath was worse.

So he kept walking until he came to wider, cleaner streets. Beside a shuttered alchemist’s shop, he spotted an entrance. The low stone lintel was marked with the appropriate glyph and numerals.

He ducked inside and started down the stairs. Bare stone walls echoed their footsteps as they descended. It smelled of damp and urine, though not as badly as the descent to the fight den. Gas-lamps set into the walls flickered as they passed.

‘Where are we going?’ Sam said sullenly.

Of course, Sam didn’t know, because Simon hadn’t told him. He’d been too angry with Andra and Sam, and too caught up in getting him to safety, to explain what was going on. ‘Somewhere safe. Nana and Lorie are already there. We need to lie low for a while.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ll explain when we’re all together.’

The undercity breathed: stale warm air exhaled from the depths, cooler air from aboveground drawn in as a faint breeze. Even two levels down it was distinctly warmer than the city streets.

‘You shouldn’t be angry with Andra,’ Sam said.

‘She could have got you killed.’

‘I was all right.’

‘Sam, you just don’t think, do you? Awful things happen to children every day in this city. Worse things than you can possibly imagine. You could be one of them, dead in an alley with your head caved in. Do you know what that would do to me? Your grandmother? Your sister? I just want you to be safe.’

They descended another flight. Sam said nothing.

‘You mustn’t go looking for Andra again,’ Simon said.

‘But she’s my friend, Dad.’

‘Andra is no one’s friend.’ Simon tightened his grip on Sam’s arm. This was his own fault, he realised. Out on the ice-plain, they had depended on Andra to survive. It had seemed best not to tell the children she was a half-animal savage who ate human flesh.

And naturally Sam, impressionable as he was, had admired her. What boy wouldn’t? She was fearless and competent where his own father was weak and helpless. No wonder Sam looked up to her and ignored him, and it was too late now to undo the damage. ‘Promise me you’ll do as I say. Or—’ Simon didn’t know what to threaten Sam with. He’d never hit him and didn’t mean to start now, whatever the provocation.

Sam sighed. ‘All right. I promise.’

The note of resignation was convincing. Simon only wished he could believe it was genuine.

At the bottom of the stairs, a wide corridor stretched ahead of them, much like a street in the city above. Regularly spaced doorways on either side offered glimpses into cell-like rooms. A family of tailors sewed by gas-light, their small children bedded down on piles of cloth scraps. A shopkeeper yawned over his stock of tin cans and unlabelled bottles. The neighbouring cubicle was packed with sleeping bodies, and those were the well-off — less fortunate individuals slept along the corridor wall.

Shirts hung from laundry-lines brushed the top of Simon’s head, and scrawny children peeked from doorways as they passed. The close air smelled of too many people living in too little space, cheap food and alcohol and drug smoke.

‘What is this place?’ Sam said. ‘Is this the undercity?’

‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t know all this was down here. How big is it?’

‘As much of Athanor is underground as above,’ Simon said. ‘We’re under the industrial district now.’ He pointed to the numbers carved into the wall, barely visible among chalk and paint scrawl. ‘Each level and area has a number. This is area 50, level 1. Level 2 is below. The areas are irregular, but the lower numbers are north and east, and they follow an arc—’ He sketched it with his hand in the air. ‘Best you don’t wander on your own, though. It’s easy to get lost.’

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Simon had no fear of losing his way himself. His sense of direction underground had only let him down once, and that was as a child, when Eranon had dared him as far as the Fifth Circuit of the Labyrinth. Even then, Simon had eventually found his way out on his own, whereas Eranon had to be rescued by a search party.

After twenty minutes walking, they descended another level into quieter hallways. A bell rang, a single deep-toned bong vibrating through the stone, faint with distance.

‘What’s that?’ Sam asked.

‘Dawn,’ Simon said. ‘The time bell is rung midnight, dawn, midday, dusk, and the half-points between.’

At the end of a gloomy corridor they stopped at a solid door, reinforced with iron.

‘This must be it,’ Simon said. He hammered on the door with his fist.

A latch clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Vikki. She stepped back to allow them entry.

‘You found him,’ Nana exclaimed. She flung her arms around Sam. ‘Idiot boy, running off like that. Serve you right if you got killed.’

‘Sorry, Nana.’

Simon hugged Lorie. Tension drained from him. His healing burns itched, and the cut in his side stung, and his eyes ached with tiredness, but none of that mattered. His family were together and safe, and that was everything.

All thanks to Danta and her storeroom. Their new home was a single low-ceilinged space, bigger than their old lodgings. Rows of cylindrical steel tanks reflected the light of a small cold-lamp. In the far corner, black pipes ran to a larger steel cylinder, which hissed faintly. The rotten-egg odour of gas hung in the air.

The back of Simon’s neck prickled. ‘This isn’t just a storeroom, is it?’

‘This is where we collect our gas,’ Vikki said. ‘But it’s fine, perfectly safe. Unless you set fire to it, obviously. Don’t do that.’

‘What’s going on, Dad?’ Lorie said. ‘Why do we have to stay here?’

‘I’ll explain everything,’ Simon said. The family’s belongings, chiefly bedding and clothes, were piled on the floor. He caught Nana’s eye. ‘Have you got everything we need?’

Nana huffed. ‘Hardly, but you said necessities, and we couldn’t carry much. I suppose Grumman will have what’s left behind. Which I shouldn’t grudge because he’s not a bad man and his wife’s sickly, but I doubt we’ll ever see those things again. And I’d only just got settled, and got to know the neighbours, and sorted the grocer so he don’t give me short measure, and you come charging in telling us we have to leave. All in all, it’s very inconvenient.’

‘Will I be able to go to school tomorrow?’ Lorie asked.

‘To the Arcanum?’ Simon shook his head. ‘One day, I hope, but not right now. Eranon knows you go there. It’s not safe.’

‘Nowhere’s safe,’ Sam said. ‘That’s what you always say about everything. It’s not fair.’

Simon kneaded his brow. He wanted sleep more than anything, but he owed them an explanation. ‘Perhaps we should sit down. I have to tell you some things.’

‘Maybe I should leave you to it,’ Vikki said.

‘No, listen if you want,’ Simon said. ‘If we’re to stay here, then you and Danta are involved. You ought to know what you’ve got yourself into.’

They rearranged some of the gas cylinders to sit on. They made uncomfortable seats, but it was better than the floor.

‘We have to hide here,’ Simon said. ‘Because Lord Oryche wants me dead.’

They stared at him.

Nana frowned. ‘Why? He’s your cousin.’

‘I don’t know, not exactly, but it must have something to do with my father.’ Simon rubbed the stumps of his fingers, pulling his thoughts together. ‘You know my father was Lord Oryche. I was studying at the Arcanum, not long qualified as an Adept, when he died suddenly. According to Uncle Aric, he had killed himself, and large sums of money from the House funds were unaccounted for. In other words, my father stole from the House, and when it looked like he might be found out, he killed himself rather than be disgraced.’

Nana’s frown deepened. ‘And you were sent to Sark?’

‘It’s House law. If the father escapes justice, the son must pay.’

‘But that’s not fair,’ Lorie said. ‘It was nothing to do with you.’

Simon shrugged. ‘It’s traditional. House Oryche never forgives, never forgets. Anyway, Uncle Aric became Lord Oryche. I was removed from the House rolls and packed off to Sark, where I married Rane and… you know that part. Now, twenty years later, I come back to Athanor. Aric’s son Eranon is Lord Oryche.’

‘Oh,’ Sam said. ‘And he’s the guy wants you dead?’

‘Are you sure?’ Lorie asked.

‘His loyal bodyguard tried to murder me. Several times, in fact. She as good as told me it was on his orders. Of course, she might have lied, but I doubt it.’

‘But why?’ Nana said.

Simon shook his head. ‘That I don’t know. But you see why we need to hide.’

‘On the run from your own cousin.’ Nana sniffed. ‘Funny sort of family, these Oryche.’

Lorie leaned forward. ‘He must have something to hide. Something he thinks you know, or might find out.’

‘My thinking exactly. Unfortunately, I don’t know what it is.’

‘Bet it’s the uncle. It’s always the evil uncle,’ Sam said. ‘In stories, I mean. I bet Uncle Aric stole the money and killed your dad. That’s what Eranon doesn’t want you to find out.’

‘Sam!’ Lorie punched him in the shoulder. ‘You’re talking about Dad’s father. Don’t be so—’ She screwed up her face in an effort to find the right word. ‘—insensitive.’

‘Well, he’s not wrong,’ Simon said. ‘That could be the explanation. Sadly, there’s no evidence. If there was, I could take it to the City Council, and they might act against Eranon.’

Sam drummed his heels against the gas tank he was sitting on. ‘So we find the evidence. And then Eranon can take the blame, and we won’t need to hide any more. Right?’

Everyone looked at Simon. It was a fine plan, he thought, if he had the slightest idea where to start. Karina vai Anemari might believe Idan had been murdered, but that was just her opinion. Even if she was right, what evidence remained to be found of a twenty-year-old murder? It was hopeless.

‘There’s something else I must tell you.’ He swallowed. He wished he could put it off until tomorrow at least, or longer, but he had to tell them what had happened in Sark. Though it would hurt them all terribly, they had to know. ‘Vikki…’

She hopped off her gas tank. ‘My cue to leave, I think. I’ll say good night, or good morning.’

‘Please give Danta my thanks,’ Simon said.

She smiled. ‘Sure. I’ll visit later, in case you need anything.’