Noise in the corridor outside Melker’s chamber. Elsa stirred. Shouting and stamping of boots. She stood. The cramps in her legs and the stiffness in her knees spoke of a long time spent in one position.

The door exploded open. Melker entered. Dust and mud coated his uniform. Blood smeared his face. He was wounded. He reeked of gunpowder.

Elsa searched behind him and saw only an empty corridor. Melker slammed the door shut. She waited, holding her breath. If Noak and her uncle weren’t here, maybe they’d made it to the surface after all.

“What happened?” She dared to ask.

“You picked the wrong side,” Melker said, destroying her last shred of hope.

He hissed as he peeled his coat from his injured arm. The shirt beneath was crusted with blood. Melker threw his coat onto the table next to the wing-backed chair. “The outsiders used you, as I knew they would.”

She clenched her hands together. “Where’s my uncle?”

“Gone. Are you happy now?”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean gone?”

Melker ignored her question and Elsa lost her temper.

“For darkness’ sake! If he’s dead, just tell me.”

“He lives.”

Elsa let out a ragged cry of relief.

“Though I doubt he’ll stay that way for long,” Melker added. “He wasn’t looking so well the last I saw, but a bullet to the stomach will do that.”

“You shot him?”

Melker stalked towards her. “Not me, Elsa. How could I? You twist a man to the point where he cannot think straight! I saw your uncle and did not see the face of a traitor. I saw you. I thought only of the tears you would shed, so I couldn’t give the order.”

“If you’re not responsible, how was he hurt?”

“You can thank your blue-eyed friend for that. He fired first and used your uncle as a human shield. My men had no choice, but to defend themselves. Your uncle was injured in the crossfire.”

Her denial was instant. “Noak wouldn’t do that.”

Melker glared. “Why do you keep defending these monsters? Can’t you see they are capable of all sorts of evil?”

Elsa thought of Noak, of his concern for Finn and of his thoughtful way.

“You’re lying. Noak would never have put my uncle in danger.”

Melker’s expression soured.

“You’re a fool.” He tugged at his red stained shirt. “See this blood? It belongs to my men. I lost dozens of them to a murderer, a cold trained killer. You may think he’s your friend, but if you were to meet that outsider on the surface, he would not show you an ounce of mercy or compassion. He would have you begging for a quick death in the end.”

She kept silent.

“Whether you want to believe it or not, you trusted the wrong people. Your uncle isn’t coming back, Elsa. Dead men can’t come home.”

“He’ll come back,” she said. “They won’t hurt him, and he’ll find a way to return.”

Melker shook his head. “Even if the outsiders spare your uncle, he will never be welcome here. As of this moment, he is Bad Seed, a traitor to his people.”

“No. You’re not serious.”

“Everyone saw him defy me and that has forced my hand. If he’d just accepted my help, if he’d handed over the boy, things could have been different. Dead or alive, there’s no place in Haven for him now.”

Elsa sank back down onto the chair.

“Are you going to have me put to death?” She asked, finally.

Melker scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. You’ve displeased me greatly this evening and I find my anger has yet to fade.”

Melker disappeared into his room to change his unform and see to his wounds. A knock sounded on the door, just as Melker rejoined her. He did up the cuffs of his sleeve and only then did he call for the man to enter.

“This came for you,” the guard said. He handed over a letter on the finest quality kenafi paper. Melker waved him away while he skimmed the contents. When he finished, he pocketed the page.

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“I’ve been called to Haven to give yet another accounting to the Keeper. For the moment, you may leave.”

“You’re letting me go?”

“Yes,” Melker said, the darkness back in his eyes.

They walked through the Guardhouse and across the plateau in silence. The anger rolled off Melker. Elsa was attuned to every twitch of his face. She watched his hands. If he lashed out, she wanted to be ready.

A guard waited with Pippa and the wagon at the bridge. The mare’s muscles shivered. Her eyes rolled. A red handprint smeared one wood panel and Elsa bit down on her gasp of horror.

Melker placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and whispered close to her ear. “Remember as you head home tonight, I could destroy you. Your freedom, your hopes and happiness, are now yours by my grace alone.”

The fingers squeezed tighter and tighter until she responded, “Yes, Melker.”

He captured her chin in a hard grip and forced a bruising kiss on her. She shoved against his shoulders until he released her. The guards on the wheel pretended not to see, but her rejection still ignited Melker’s temper.

He grabbed her collar. “Continue to seek hardship, Elsa, and you will find it. There’s no uncle to protect you anymore, no one left for you to hide behind. Come to me of your own free will and things will be much easier for you.”

Elsa pushed him away and straightened her clothing. A guard held out her lantern, toolkit and knife. The man’s eyes met hers. There was sympathy there, but he kept silent. It was a blow. Another reminder that no one would help her. Elsa snatched the items from him.

She took Pippa’s lead. The horse baulked, looking at Elsa without seeing her.

“Ah, my beauty,” she crooned. “I’m here. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Elsa spoke to herself as much as the horse.

“Ahhh, my love. You’re safe. Ahhh, no one will hurt you. I’ve got you.”

Elsa’s soft voice pierced Pippa’s fear. Her posture relaxed. Her muzzle knocked gently into Elsa’s shoulder and her whiskers brushed Elsa’s cheek.

“Ahhh, there you go. You’re okay.” She clicked the horse on. “Come, come.”

Elsa walked over the abyss into the darkness of the tunnel. She forced her head high and her shoulders straight, but it was all an act. She’d never felt so afraid.

***

A dry storm churned around them. A real surface welcome.

Noak sat close to the campfire, beneath a rock overhang, and stared at the tattoo on his wrist. He’d cleaned the blood and dust from his skin, but this mark he hadn’t touched. Noak couldn’t bring himself to wipe it away.

Roan appeared next to him.

“How is he?” Noak asked.

“We’ve made him comfortable, but that’s all we can do.”

“Can he be saved?”

Roan frowned. “We won’t know until we get back home. If he lasts that long.”

Lightning forked across the sky and threw their shadows against the stone wall. Thunder crashed in waves and hot gusts of wind invaded their shelter. Noak threw a branch onto the fire, adding to the stifling air.

“Elsa will never forgive me.”

“You can’t know that,” Roan argued.

“I didn’t protect him.”

Roan put a hand on Noak’s shoulder. “You did. You got him out of that place alive. You fulfilled the command.”

They fell into a deep silence.

“I keep going over it in my head,” Noak said. “The guards knew we would be there. They knew Amos specifically would be the one transporting Finn. He was the target. The captain wanted to kill him.”

“You think Elsa betrayed you?”

“To Melker? No.”

“Then what’s bothering you?” Roan asked.

“If they know about Amos, they know about Elsa. She’s still there, on her own. Who knows what she’s facing and it’s my fault.”

Roan rested his hands on his knees. “From what you’ve told me, she’s no weakling.”

Noak shook his head and regarded the fire, as if she was there, in the flames. “She’s inventive and brave and, despite everything, kind.”

Roan cleared his throat. “There you go, then. With qualities like that, she’ll never be on her own. Elsa can take care of herself.”

Noak opened his palm and traced the three scars. “I made a promise to her, but I’ve already broken it.”

A moan came from deeper beneath the overhang.

“He’s calling for you,” Roan said, “and his niece.”

Noak rose. He ducked his head and ran his palm along the low stone roof until he reached the old man at the back of the hollow. Finn had not left his side since the attack. In a reversal of roles, the boy lifted a water canister up to the fevered man’s lips.

“Amos, you must drink,” Finn said.

Ysolde sat a few feet away. She watched her brother, but did not help.

“Here, let me.” Noak knelt beside the Junker. He supported Amos and opened his mouth, so Finn could trickle the water into his throat. With hands as gentle as he could make them, he lowered Amos to the floor.

The old man’s fevered eyes seemed to focus on him in that instant. “I didn’t tell her.”

“Shh,” Noak said. “Rest.”

His attempts to soothe had the opposite effect.

“No. No. You must go back. She’s alone. She’s always so alone.” Amos breathing was ragged. His eyes closed again.

Finn moved beside the old man and searched for a pulse. “I can barely feel his heartbeat.”

Noak brushed Finn’s fingers aside and placed his own on Amos’ neck. He found a weak flutter beneath the skin.

“I can’t get his temperature down, either,” Finn said. “It’s too hot beneath the overhang.”

“The fires are for our protection.”

“I know,” Finn said, “but we’re losing him.”

Noak studied Amos’ pale face and considered his options. Finn’s command no longer held sway. He was under no obligation to protect Amos or save him, but Noak just couldn’t leave the old man to die. Noak wanted to help him.

“Okay,” he said. “We move out now.”

Ysolde stirred. “We can’t leave. Not until morning.”

“He’ll not survive if we stay here.”

Finn jumped to his feet, but Ysolde grabbed his wrist. She pulled the boy back to the ground.

“No. You’re not going.” She turned to him. “You risk your own life, Noak.”

“Yissy,” Finn said.

“You won’t sway me on this. I just got you back. I’m not putting you in danger again.”

“Stay then,” Noak said. “But I’m not going to sit and watch the Junker die.”

He scooped up the old man’s body, ignoring his groan of pain. “I’m taking him back to the swamp.”

Roan joined him. “I’m with you.”

Noak was grateful for the support. Together, they set off into the darkness of the swirling storm.