It seemed most unusually that they would have taken Hanes to a district not too far away. If an elf was involved, one of Them Above, surely they would have taken him way uptown. I would have had no chance of finding him if that were the case. I wasn't going to complain, much.

All I could think of was that the elf was involved in some kind of subterfuge, some power play, that he did want the others of his kind to find out about. Given their nature, it was a very real possibility. And not something ideally I wanted to get mixed up in.

The thought that the Worm was somehow involved with an elf was another unsettling factor as well. That close to power, with its abilities, could only lead to trouble. For everyone. There was nothing I could do about it though.

I rode the trolley car back up a few districts, still smarting from the wasp stings that I had taken. Sharky had been kind enough to provide me with some of the unguent to apply to them which did take the edge of the sting, though it persisted even despite that. The welts left behind drew some looks as I boarded the trolley car and took a seat. No one asked and I wasn't about to volunteer. I flipped the collar up on my coat, pulled my hat down over my face and tried to remain unseen while I wallowed in my discomfort, both in body and mind.

I should have at least be feeling a little good with the way matters were panning out, now that it appeared the end was nearing. I knew where Hanes was and only had to get him out. It wasn't easy given the stings and the gnawing sensation that I really should avoid getting mixed up with an elf. Still, I had given Miss White my word I would see it through. That, and making an enemy of Mister White - Old Man Westler - was just as dangerous. A rock and a hard place. The frying pan and the fire. I was stuck between all of them.

Upon arriving at Heathpool, I left the trolley car, heading into the back streets of the district. I walked through the mists and light drizzle. A last few patches of snow were piled up in sheltered locations. They would not last much longer, being reduced to slush by the rain. The cool touch of the water provided some comfort from the stings on my flesh.

End Way was at the very edge of the district, a series of houses that backed onto the heavy walls that bordered the drop off the side of Spire into the unknown. People tended not to like living there, that close to the great empty. Something about it triggered deep seated fears. It was not a place that you wanted to be if you had a problem with sleep walking either. Or inquisitive children. Not many lived there for long, if they could help it, and, despite issues of housing availability in Spire, there were plenty of empty buildings along the street. As such the area was quiet and out of the way.

The perfect place, in fact, to stash someone, or hide, if it took your fancy. It was amazing how many times I'd visited the various End Ways in different districts.

As I made my slow way down End Way, along on the street, the mists parted before me and I received another of those flashes of visions. I had always considered them a rarity, seldom seen, and yet since starting the case I had been subjected to an inundation of them. I found it all rather unsettling, to be honest, almost as if I was being targeted, and I had no idea by what. That something unknown might have its eye on me I did not like.

Just as disconcerting was the vision itself. A dark tunnel opened up before me, one that rapidly led to a bright light, and a ledge. The ledge perched atop a towering cliff, while far below it I could make out a misty forest. Far, far below. I almost reeled at the sight of it as a moment of dizziness swept over me.

Then just as suddenly as it had appeared, the sight was gone. I stood back on the street again, still a touch unsteady on my feet. What I experienced I did not like at all. The sensation of it had gripped at my heart and a cold chill touched me, refusing to let go. Call it a premonition, but the view of that long fall had troubled me greatly. It wasn't helped my how close I was to the edge of Spire.

Trying my best to set it aside, without much success, I continued on down the street to the building that Mother had indicated that Hanes had been stashed in. There had been a mention of an ogre with the elf, and that was not to be taken lightly. There was the possibility he was inside, guarding Hanes. They were good for that kind of thing. If that were so, a fight was the last thing that I wanted to get caught up in. I had been battered, bruised, stung and run through a gauntlet of emotions just trying to find Hanes. I did not want to add a fight with an ogre to that. Luckily, they were none too bright. It left open the possibility of being able to sneak around him. Or, if discovered, the possibility, the remote possibility, that I might be able to talk him around. If you could find the correct inducement, you could mislead or deceive them. Sometimes. You didn't want to rely on trying to do so.

The building I had been directed to was a modest place, two stories in height. It had been built of red brick and the front door had been painted green. The windows of the place were all closed up. There were no obvious lights or signs that anyone was in there. I approached the front door as quiet as I could, slinking along the wall to reach it, one hand in my pocket gripping my revolver. With the other hand I tested the door handle.

It turned beneath my grasp.

I released the handle and backed away from the door. Just charging in was not the wisest course of action. If Hanes was inside, then they would not have just left the place unlocked, surely. I didn't like it. At all.

Instead of going in, I made my way around the side of the building. It backed up hard against the wall that bordered the edge of Spire. Up on the second floor, one of the windows around the right hand side of the building, at the back, was slightly ajar. My eyes narrowed as I spotted it. It still seemed a touch suspicious, but it was a better option than the front door, if I could reach it. A less obvious entrance, and thus less likely to cause me to be surprised. Or so I hoped. I looked around for a way to reach the window. The only route that I could see was to scramble up a drain pipe and then make my way along a narrow ledge that separated the two floors.

I made my way to the drainpipe and looked up at it. It would not be an easy climb, even at the best of times. Then again nothing that I had done since taking the case had been so. I rubbed my hands together and then took a hold of the drainpipe, testing it. It would do me no good if it parted from the wall while I was halfway up it. The drainpipe seemed strong enough as I pulled on it. No give or ominous creaks. There was only one thing for it.

I began to climb, feet searching for purchase on the brick wall as I hauled my way up. The moisture that collected on the surface of the pipe didn't exactly help and more than once my grip threatened to slip. Likewise the rough nature on the bricks caused its own problems, resulting in scratched fingers and knuckles as they scraped against them while trying to seek purchase behind the drainpipe.

Despite all of that, I managed to make it up without falling or taking too much damage. The next tricky part was to make my way along the narrow ledge to the window itself. Up there, it looked even smaller than it had from the ground, barely wide enough for my toes and not much else. It remained my only option and I reached across, slotting my fingers in between two bricks.

I began to shuffle across, resting my weight on little more than my toes and fingertips. I had to take great care as I made my way along, for the slightest of errors on my part would result in a fall and certain injury. My fingers and forearms began to burn from all the effort. Inching along, small step by small step, by the time I reached the window, I was sweating heavily and my arms felt like they were both made from lead and weightless at the same time.

Still gripping tight to the bricks of the wall with my hand, I reached out one foot to hook under the window and cautiously open it further, sliding it up. The noise was not especially loud but to my pounding ears it seemed amplified in the still quiet of the mists. I should have checked to see if there had been anything or one inside before I had tried to open it. Normally I would have. In this case I simply rolled my way in through the open window, too weary to do much more than that or to care.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I lay on the wooden boards of the floor in the room I had dropped in to, one lit only by what illumination filtered in through the window, breathing deeply. The climb had taken more out of me than I had expected. No doubt everything I had already been through had played its role in that.

After a short, undisturbed moment of lying there, I sat back up. I rubbed at my forearms, trying to relieve the tightness in them.

The room was empty, all but for a single old metal bed frame in one corner. There was no mattress on it, or any other furnishings. The wallpaper on the walls, comprised of green stripes bordering green flowers, had started to peel away across large portions of it. The ceiling showed signs of mould creeping across it, spreading out from the corners. Dust lay scattered thick across the floor. I could see tiny footprints in them that marked the presence of rodents in the building. Tangles of web were strung out from the walls, wavering in a faint breeze that came in through the now open window. The room had obviously not seen any use for some time.

I picked myself up off the floor and dusted myself down. As quiet as I could, I slid the window mostly shut, returning it to the position that it had been in before I had opened it. As I did so, I discovered why it had not been fully shut in the first place. Water had soaked into the frame and caused it to swell. The window could not fully shut as a result.

I crossed over to the door leading out of the room and there I halted and listened. I could hear nothing from the other side. My hand reached for the door handle, starting to turn it. And then I froze.

Just as I had been near to opening it, I heard the creaking of floorboards.

It sounded as if it had come from downstairs, from the room directly below the one I was in. For a moment I paused, contemplating my next course of action. Did it mark the presence of someone in the room or was it just the settling of the building? I held my breath and waited, listening intently, trying to pick up on any clues that might have helped me.

The sound did not occur again and nothing else came to me that would decide it one way or the other.

I couldn't just hang around in the room though. The longer I stayed, the more likely it was that I would be discovered. I opened the door and stepped out, into the upstairs corridor of the building. It had a faded and torn old carpet along its length. There were old illuminance globes set in the walls, none of which worked, and the same style of wallpaper as in the room I had come out of. The lack of light was troubling, as it was darker yet out in the hallway. I could have used my flashlight, except that really would give away my presence. And so I crept on, making my way down the hallway, half feeling my way with a hand on the wall.

A cough caught my attention. A weak cough, almost hacking in nature, and without much strength behind it. It came from a door just up ahead of me.

I made my silent way to the door and ran my hand across it. A key stuck out of the lock. A quick check of the door handle showed that the room had been locked, imprisoning whoever was inside. Taking my time, I turned the key, minimising the noise. I heard a click as it unlocked. Readying myself for whatever might have been on the other side, I opened the door and stepped on in.

The room I entered looked much like the one I had come through the window into, the only difference being it was occupied. Someone was huddled up on a thin mattress on a bed, with an equally thin grey woollen blanket pulled tight around them. A small bedside table sat alongside it, holding a half filled jug of water and a glass. The figure in the bed coughed again, feebly. Whoever they were, they did not sound well. Not surprising given the conditions they were kept in. The room was cool and damp and dark.

I approached the bed, treading carefully so as not to make too much noise. Not silent enough as it would seem, for the figure turned as I grew near. Nathan Hanes looked up at me, his face pale and drawn, while sweat touched his brow.

"Who?" he started to say in a weak voice but I held up a finger to my lips, motioning for silence. Understanding showed in his eyes. I moved back over to the door and quietly shut it before returning to Hanes.

"Miss White sent me," I told him, speaking in little more than a whisper.

He smiled at that. "I knew that she would not abandon me," he said.

"We need to get you out of here, and fast," I told him. "Can you walk?"

"I can try." He sat himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. With an effort he rose to his feet, swaying as he did. He leant on to the bed head to support himself, to stop from falling.

From that it was readily apparent that getting him out would not exactly be easy. He could not move very fast and that could spell trouble. I had to get him well away before he was seen or we were followed. If that happen, we could not escape.

"Is there anyone in the building?" I asked.

"Ogre," Hanes old me. "He is here all the time. On occasions others are as well. I could hear them arguing downstairs.

Arguing? So there was dissensions in the ranks. "About what?" I asked.

"Couldn't tell. I just heard voices, not words."

I nodded. What the argument was about hardly mattered if we could get away. "No doubt the ogre is down there watching the front entrance given it is the only apparent way in. There is another way to get out though."

A check of the window in the room found that it had been well secured. Nails had been driven through the window frame so that it could not be opened. By the look of the shine on them, they were new and had only recently been hammered in, no doubt to secure Hanes in his room.

"No way out here," I muttered. From the bed I took the sheets and the blanket. "Follow me," I told Hanes. We snuck our way out of the room, locking it behind us so as to make it appear that Hanes was still in there. It was amusing to think of what they would make of it when they discovered he had vanished from a locked room. I led Hanes back to the room I had come in through, closing the door.

"What is the plan?" Hanes asked, leaning against the bed. Even that short walk had wearied him. It didn't bode well for our escape.

"Out through the window," I told him.

"I am not sure I am in a fit state to attempt that," Hanes replied.

"That is what the sheets and blanket are for."

I started to knot the sheet and blanket together, to form a makeshift rope out of via which Hanes could climb down out through the window. While it was long enough to reach the ground, the problem lay in securing the other end of it. While the bed was large and heavy enough to support the weight of a man climbing down, it sat too far away, on the opposite side of the room from the window. Moving it over would make far too much noise. The plan was to get out without alerting the ogre guard after all. It left me only one option that I could see.

I slid the window open and took a look out through it. The drizzle outside had picked up and become more like a light rain. Not the best of weather to be sending Hanes out into, not given his current condition, and not without some kind of protection. I shrugged off my coat and handed it to Hanes. "Put that on."

He pulled it on. It was a little on the large side for him, trailing along the ground, but at least it would keep him warm and dry. To it I added the scarf that the Rag Lady had knitted for me, wrapping it around his neck. He pulled it tight and tucked it in beneath the coat. Lastly I handed him my hat, which he settled it upon his head. He finalised it all by pulling up the collars of the coat. Altogether, anyone would be hard pressed to tell it was Hanes unless they got up close and looked at his face.

With Hanes ready, I dropped one end of the makeshift rope out through the open window, letting it down until it reached the ground. The other end I wrapped around my waist and took a tight grip on it with both my hands. I sat down on the ground beneath the window and braced my feet against the wall.

"Climb down," I said to Hanes in hushed tones. "I'll join you when you are down."

Hanes clambered over the edge of the window, but only with some difficulty. For a moment I was worried that he might overbalance and fall to the ground. At the last moment he managed to maintain his grip, the knuckles showing white. He gave me a feeble grin and then swung his legs over the side before starting to make his way down. The rope swayed and jolted as he did. The pressure of it caused the sheet rope to bite into me and I felt a pain in the ribs I'd bruised previous. I couldn't let go though, not until Hanes was down. Instead all I could do was to grit my teeth and endure.

Then the pressure stopped and I heard Hanes land on the ground, rather heavily. Scrambling to my feet, I peered out through the window. Hanes was standing, though he was leaning against the wall as he sought to recover both his breath and his strength. The hat lay on the ground at his feet. He must have dropped down the last little bit to reach the ground.

I hauled the sheet rope back up through the window and stashed it away beneath the bed, hoping that in the mist shrouded gloom that filtered in through the window that it wouldn't be spotted in a cursory glance of the room, not until we were well away at least.

If only it had been that easy. As I made my way back to the window, there came the sound of noises that I had dreaded to hear. A shout echoed from down below, a bellow more like, while out the front of the building I heard a screeching of tires as an automobile pulled up, followed by the slam of doors. I had no idea as to what had happened, only that it was bad and that it no doubt meant a search of the house, including the room Hanes had been in.

If they failed to find him in there, they would search for him both inside and out, and if they did they couldn't fail to find him. And we had been so close to getting away too. There was nothing for it but to try and buy him some time.

"Get going," I hissed down to Hanes. "Stay out of sight and make for McAllister. He will take care of you."

"What of you?"

"I will be fine," I told him. At least I hoped I would be. "Now get going."

He nodded, reluctantly, and started off, hugging up against the side of the great wall. In my dark coat and hat, along with the mists and the drizzle, I hoped that he could remain hidden, at least until he was well away from the house. That left only myself and the fresh trouble I was no doubt going to be in.

Not that I expected any different.