Sa glyph [https://i.imgur.com/plK5EWM.png]

Leaving Ellise and the others behind, Sam strode toward the washroom. For the moment, he was alone and relatively unobserved.

Problem was, the cavern was dark and the Seekers had few lamps. The children clustered together, each group a little island of light. The washroom area was also lit, but beyond that the cavern’s smooth walls broke into smaller caves separated by pillars and curtains of rock, all lost in darkness.

No one wandered off alone. If he did, he’d either be stumbling round in the dark, or he’d have to carry a lamp, which made sneaking unnoticed pretty much impossible.

Over at the washroom, a figure — probably Baily — moved in front of the lamp. Sam stopped, considering where to go. The Master, with Mikael and the others, had headed off in this direction and they must have gone somewhere. Maybe there was another way out.

Sam stepped off the path to the washroom and headed into the blackness. He walked as far as he dared, then squatted and stared at the ground, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

After a minute, he dimly saw the shapes of nearby rocks. He stood, and keeping his back to the lights, shuffled on, careful of his footing on the uneven ground. The children’s chatter faded behind him, while his own breathing sounded harsh and loud.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark. Sure, he might stub his toes or trip over an unexpected rock. He couldn’t get lost. However far he went, all he had to do was turn round, and he’d see the lamps.

So he crept on steadily, fumbling past strangely contorted rock formations, his heart pounding with the thrill of exploration.

The darkness deepened. Now he could see nothing, not even the vaguest outlines of rocks, or his own hand in front of his face. He stopped and stared into the black, wondering how far he’d come.

Time slowed in the dark. He felt he’d walked for ages, but creeping as he had, had probably only travelled a short distance into the cavern. Exploration was losing its appeal. Realistically, if he wanted to go further, he would have to get hold of a lamp.

In the pitch darkness ahead of him, a thread of light tickled his eyes. It shone in a crooked line, suspended high in the air. He blinked, wondering if his light-starved eyes were tricking him. But no, it was lamplight. The lamp was hidden behind some kind of obstacle, like a wall, and light was escaping over the top.

Sam crept closer, increasing excitement pulling him onward.

As he neared the light, the cavern floor grew more uneven, and then he hit a wall. The chink of light shone overhead, dimly outlining jagged rock. He thought he heard a muffled murmur of voices coming from the other side.

He crouched and pressed his ear to the rough volcanic stone, but could hear nothing. Frustrated, he sat back on his heels. The light was four or five feet above his head. Cautiously, he ran his hands up the wall. Spikes and lumps of rock met his fingers.

Slowly and silently, feeling his way between handholds, Sam climbed. He hooked his hands on top of the wall and pulled himself up just enough to peek over.

Below him, Mikael sat slumped on a plain wooden chair. Ropes secured his hands and feet, with more rope looped round his chest and neck. A glyph had been squiggled on his forehead with some dark liquid. Around the chair, a circle was drawn on the floor in fine white powder, criss-crossed by white lines making a five-pointed star, with glyphs round the outside.

The Master stood outside the circle, at the edge of the lamplight. His head was bowed over a large book. He turned a page and read: ‘Ej nadev yabwuj, tiqwijdaq soqdaj yaj.’

It didn’t sound like any language Sam knew, or any kind of language at all, just harshly accented gibberish. The Master continued turning the pages, declaiming an endless stream of meaningless noise.

Sam’s leg muscles hurt. He eased his position slightly.

‘Nuq,’ the Master declared. ‘Ej hegh luchupmohlu'bogh!’

The boy in the chair jerked. His back arched, his face twisted in a silent scream, and he strained against the ropes that bound him, thrashing like a fish out of water. Then he sagged into stillness, only his chest heaving.

The Master stepped into the circle. ‘Jang. Jang nay los.’

Mikael lifted his head. He turned to look up at Sam, stared directly at him, and whatever dwelt behind those eyes, it wasn’t Mikael anymore. It wasn’t anything remotely human.

Terror loosed Sam’s grip. He dropped to the ground, landed painfully on his hands and knees, and ran for the distant lights.

The Seekers slept on the cavern floor, curled up like puppies in a common nest of blankets. Sam waited until all he heard was the occasional snore and mutter of dreamers, and then he carefully disentangled himself from Ellise’s arm and sat up. Ellise sighed at the disturbance and snuggled into Baily’s side.

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How peaceful she looked. How innocent. Sam’s heart lurched. He didn’t want to leave her here. Whatever the Master was doing, it wasn’t good. All his talk of Ascension was a lie, and none of them realised the danger.

He hadn’t told them what he had seen. They wouldn’t understand. No words could explain the bowel-knotting terror he’d felt when Mikael looked at him. He didn’t understand it himself. He just knew it was evil, and he had to get away, far from the Master and all his works.

Briefly, he considered waking Ellise, persuading her to come with him. She could live with his family — he was sure Dad wouldn’t mind, not once he explained. No doubt he’d be angry at first, what with Sam wandering off and being gone so long, but he never stayed angry long.

But waking Ellise risked waking everyone, and then neither of them would escape. It was best he get away himself, then maybe he could get help for the others. Maybe Dad would know what to do about the Master. It was too big a problem to solve alone.

He stood. Everyone else, so far as he could see, slept peacefully. He collected the group’s lamp, which had been turned down for the night. The flame was no more than a flicker. He picked his way through the dozing bodies toward the cavern entrance.

He wasn’t sure he recalled the route back to the undercity, but he was confident if he just headed upward, he’d eventually reach somewhere. Anywhere would be better.

As he neared the entrance to the cavern, he heard the shuffle of feet. Instinctively, he flattened himself into the shadows. He shoved the lamp behind him and froze, his heart racing.

Someone — several someones — were crossing the cavern. Like him, they moved quietly, not to wake the others. Slowly, he slid down to crouch in the deepest shadow, hardly daring to breathe.

They came nearer and nearer: three of the older boys, one with a lamp, two carrying a limp body. The light fell on Mikael’s slack, pale face — either dead or deeply unconscious. They passed Sam, only feet away, and then their steps echoed in the passageway, receding into the distance.

They’d gone. Sam breathed deeply in relief, then emerged from his hiding place. If he kept his distance and was lucky, he might follow them and so find his way back to the upper levels.

‘What are you doing?’ a low voice said.

Cold ran down Sam’s spine. He turned. Paet stepped from the shadows. He must have been standing guard at the entrance.

Sam froze, considering making a break for freedom. ‘Just looking for the, uh…’

‘It’s the other way,’ Paet said.

‘Yeah, well…’ Sam hesitated. Paet seemed friendly enough. ‘Look, I have to go. My family will be worried about me. You understand, right?’

Paet’s expression was unreadable in the gloom. ‘I found it hard at first, being away from my family. But it’s not safe, Sam. If you want to leave, you have to talk to the Master. He’ll help you. He cares for us all.’

Sam doubted that, but his chance of escaping had clearly passed. He took a couple of steps back into the cavern. ‘Why were those boys taking Mikael away? Is he…?’

‘Mikael has ascended. He’s in a better place. Go back to bed, Sam.’

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

A masked Warden delivered Simon’s evening meal, and later, another (or perhaps the same one) removed the remains and dimmed the lamp outside the cell. Thanks to Riga, it was a new cell, though since it was identical to the first, it made little difference.

When the guard left, Simon closed his book reluctantly. In the lower light, he couldn’t read, but he didn’t want to sleep yet, and dull as the book was, reading allowed him to forget reality, at least for a short while.

The deep clang of the prison door echoed from above. He assumed it was the Warden leaving, but in a moment he heard footsteps. Someone was on their way down.

The Wardens had said nothing about his request for sanctuary and hadn’t answered his questions. If it was Riga returning, then his luck had finally run out. He went to the door.

A Warden appeared, descending the curved path. One of his usual guards, Simon thought — though always masked on duty, he was learning to recognise them by their size and gait — and walking a pace behind, Grace.

Simon stepped back from the door, raking his fingers through his hair. With no mirror, and no visitors but the guards, he hadn’t thought of his own appearance in days. He must be a mess.

Grace came to the door and gazed in through the bars. She wore a midnight-blue cloak wrapped close around her despite the warmth. ‘How are you?’

‘Better for seeing you. What’s going on? No one tells me anything. Is there any news of Sam?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘The Wardens provided an escort for Nana to visit your old home. Sam wasn’t there. There was no sign of him.’

Simon leaned on the door. No sign of him. Sam, where are you?

‘Some good news,’ Grace said. ‘I persuaded the commander to honour your request for sanctuary, at least temporarily. A hearing is scheduled in seven days time. I know you’re worried about Sam. We’re all worried, but we need to plan.’

He scrubbed his face with his hands. She was right, of course. Sam wasn’t his only responsibility. If he was handed over to Eranon, he was dead — Riga had left him in no doubt of that. In which case, he’d be no use to his family or anyone.

‘I didn’t murder Jonas,’ he said. ‘Vikki and I found him dead in an alleyway. His head had been cut off.’

Grace grimaced. ‘There’s been rumours of similar murders for months. Mutilated bodies… You knew Jonas?’

‘Yes. Not well, as it turned out, but I certainly didn’t want him dead. Not like that.’

‘Horrible. Will this Vikki testify on your behalf?’

‘I expect so. What about your own people? Is there any word of Numisma?’

‘My mother died at the Temple, and many more, too many. Oryche are holding some — for their protection, we’re told. Our businesses in the city have closed their doors. Only a vestige of the House survives.’

‘Numisma will rise again,’ Simon said.

‘If Eranon doesn’t destroy what’s left. There are riots in the city, Simon. Rumour blames northers, and the deeper rumour blames Numisma profiteering.’

‘Eranon is stoking the violence. He doesn’t care who suffers so long as he is in power. What are Anemari doing? They must realise the danger.’

‘They’ve closed the Great Market and barricaded the docks. They avoid defying Eranon directly. They’re scared.’ She leaned against the door. ‘I’m scared.’

A couple of inches of timber separated them. He reached through the bars. She held his fingers, and he said nothing because he had no comfort to offer, only companionship.

She sighed. ‘It’s late. I should go back. Is there anything I can bring you? Anything you need?’

‘A chisel?’ He smiled. ’No. I’m fine. I just wish I knew Sam was safe.’

She squeezed his fingers in parting, and the guard escorted her back up the long circling path to the seven locked iron doors. Simon listened until the last echoes faded into stillness.

The silence fell like a blow, but he stood with his head resting on the bars and felt… different. Better, somehow, though that didn’t make much sense. He was still in prison, still in grave danger. They all were.

He felt restless. His bad leg ached despite, or perhaps because of, his enforced idleness. He rubbed the knee and decided he should do something. The cell was small, but he could still exercise. It would help pass the time.