Leah stands from the side of the awoken patient. One of the guard’s friends had been a few beds over, and crawled over to take the woman’s hand, speaking reassurances, helping to settle her back down.

Iris has been tended to in the meantime, Leah notices. The stitches are hidden beneath bandages that wrap all around her neck and jaw, secured above her head like the little hankies used to hold shut the mouths of corpses in past centuries. She is still unconscious, or asleep, or…Leah does not care to think what else.

“We’re giving as good as we get,” a guard says, passing behind Leah and giving her a pat on the shoulder. “The river’s clogged with their dead.”

Leah nods without comment, and the guard leaves to resume their post.

The sun set a little over an hour ago, but the city still glows with a haze of reddish orange light. Every time the door opens, a new waft of smoky, cool air reaches her.

“Are they burning the city?” Leah asks one of the servants. “Have you seen?”

“I was last up on the walls about a half-hour past,” the youngish boy says, wringing out rags and scrubbing them to get the blood out, his hands cracking from the soap and the hot water. “Torches in every street, but they weren’t harming the buildings any. The bridges are all covered with people, bonfires in the middle.”

Leah frowns in thought, then leaves the boy to his work. Passing by the medics and the servants, she hears low, worried whispers, the words blending into each other. The Baroness listens with a grim expression, sterilizing needles over candle flame and wiping them clean, her fingertips stained with sweat and soot. She meets Leah’s eyes, but says nothing.

The water is running low, and Leah picks up the yoke, heading out the door.

The passages at the centre of the keep are empty. Every able body is on the walls. The wound in Leah’s torso twangs sharply as she adjusts the yoke over her shoulders; she’d checked it about three hours in, when one of the medics had asked if the wrapping needed changing, and it had still been a glowing red. The medic had clearly recognised the effect as magical, and was just as clearly disturbed, but nonetheless had applied an antiseptic and a numbing agent.

The numbness had lasted only an hour, but Leah hadn’t requested another dose, after seeing every other victim who passed through writhing and crying from the pain.

She pushes open the hidden door out of the walls, and stumbles down the rocks to the water’s edge. The smell of smoke is thick, and Leah can see the bonfires the boy had mentioned; tall beacons, four to a bridge, with little dark specks passing in front of them of soldiers pacing the edges.

The water is grimy; she can smell it, even if she can’t see it. She fills the two cauldrons and loads them onto the yoke.

Faint splashes reach her ears; not the usual sounds of the river, but something different. Leah freezes in the shadow of the door, looking over the water. The bonfires dazzle her eyes, but she can hear clearly; paddling. Peering in the direction of the sound and blinkering her eyes with her hands to block the glare, she sees long, narrow boats heading across the river from the docks, the domes of many heads hunched over the oars.

She kneels and sets the cauldrons on the ground, and uses the yoke to bar the door – not a perfect fit by any means, but hopefully enough to stop them. She runs.

There is light coming out from under the door to the Baron’s office, and Leah slows as she approaches, knocking sharply on the wood.

“Enter,” followed by some faint muttering.

Leah opens the door and sees Lord Valerid and two of the guards, hunched over the table. All conversation stops, and the Baron’s face hardens with a look of ‘what now?’

“They’re sending people from the west bank,” Leah says. “Boats full of soldiers.”

The Baron stands and goes to the window, looking through the glass. Both guards stand a little straighter.

“I’ll bring a unit around to meet them,” one guard says formally, with a deep nod. The Baron raises a hand, and the man is off like a shot.

“How many boats?” the other guard asks Leah.

“I saw two, but with the glare I couldn’t see very far.”

“How far away were they?”

“Halfway across the river.”

“And how far away are your allies?” the Baron asks, not turning away from the window.

“A little over an hour.” Hopefully, Leah adds to herself.

Lord Valerid takes a few deep breaths, looking out over the glowing city and the remaining bridges. “Captain Verith,” he says, and the other guard stands at attention. “Where is the Lady Valerid?”

“She’s in the hospital, sir,” Leah cuts in. The guard nods in confirmation.

“Get her out.”

“Sir,” the guard says, turning to go.

“Where?”

The guard pauses at Leah’s question. The Baron turns around and eyes her coolly. “The estate will fall within the hour. Our people have not slept or eaten for a day, and the enemy has just received fresh reinforcements. They will not take us both.” Lord Valerid nods again to the guard.

“I’ll take her,” Leah says, trying to stand a little taller.

The Baron cuts off a sigh. “Miss Talesh – ”

“Sir, I can’t fight, but I can sneak someone out of here. I’ve done it before. You need your people here to help defend.” She waits for him to yell at her or insult her, but he does not.

Instead, the Baron looks her over carefully. “We have no magic here, Miss Talesh, to be able to tell if you have been ensorcelled. I will not trust my remaining family to – ”

“Then I’ll go with him,” Leah tilts her head towards captain Verith. “I ought to be out of the keep anyway, when Lord Seffon’s forces arrive, to give them the information they need.”

“Then leave on your own,” Lord Valerid says, temper mounting.

“I can be of help to them – ”

“Your assistance so far has been – ”

“I want her.”

All three look to the door. Lady Valerid stands outside, looking drawn, still wearing the borrowed guard’s jacket. The Baron’s face softens for a moment.

Lady Valerid steps into the room, standing between the captain and Leah. “Where would I go once I leave here? The whole city is overrun. When Lord Seffon’s forces arrive I will have somewhere safe to go, but only if they see someone with me whom they recognise.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The guard looks uncomfortable to be caught in the cross-fire, but speaks up anyway. “I trained with Leah, sir, before the accident. Even if she’s not fully recovered, I would want her at my side, out there.”

You’re a braver man that I am… Leah thinks, watching the Baron’s eyes narrow, and the captain shrink a little bit under the scrutiny.

He turns back to the Baroness. “Lilia, are you sure?”

Lady Valerid steps up and takes his face in her hands, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones. She kisses him, and his hands lift to just barely hold her sides. “We will be safer as three,” she says, finally, and Lord Valerid nods, letting her go.

“The enemy can light the river on fire within seconds, and there are boats and archers watching the keep from all sides,” the captain says. “How will we get out? The usual passages are unusable.”

“What are the usual passages?” Leah asks, gently.

The Baron pulls up a map of the keep, pointing out secret exits in the walls, and under the bridges. “There are no passages under the river, but if we were to let a boat off at the northern tip, to carry you to the bay…”

“Pardon me, sir,” Leah says, looking at the northern bridge. “But there is a passage under the river: the tunnel that redirects the hot springs. The Cheden army blocked it off somewhere on the mainland, so surely there must be a way out through that?”

The guard seems to consider this idea carefully. The Baron makes a distasteful expression, but fetches down a different set of maps, older and less-used. He unrolls them, showing the layout of the bathing rooms, and the pipes that feed them.

“The pipes pass near the north bridge, I was told,” Leah says, pointing. “A little under a metre across, so we should just be able to fit.” She glances over at the captain as she says it, realising that for someone with broad enough shoulders two feet might not actually be so much room.

The Baron points to a building on the main island. “The waterworks. We’ve seen many of their soldiers passing through there; it is too observed.”

“They’d have been passing through there to collect the sulphur, but that’s been done,” Leah says. “Surely they’re focusing on the keep now?”

“They are, sir,” the captain says.

Lord Valerid looks over the maps carefully. “There will be a grate at the end, that you will need to get past, and then a stone lid which they may or may not have already removed to access the water. Then a twenty foot climb, up the well.”

“A forty foot rope and a crowbar,” the captain says, and the Baron nods, waving a hand.

“Then go, as quickly as you can.” He reaches out one last time to take the Baroness’s hand, meeting her eyes. “And be careful.”

The three of them leave, the guard splitting off to get the crowbar and rope. Leah stays with the Baroness, and is hit with an idea.

“Lady Valerid, would you happen to have any amber jewellery?” she asks, then adds before the Baroness assumes anything, “The Devadiss have found it to be good at blocking scrys, when paired against wool.”

Lady Valerid raises an eyebrow. “Is this magic?”

“The very opposite; it blocks magic.”

She nods pensively, and they detour over to her rooms. The Baroness opens a wood-and-abalone jewellery box and pulls out a bracelet and a pair of earrings, and Leah instructs her to attach the bracelet over her wool sleeve; Leah then takes the earrings and rubs them against her sleeves, checking for arcs.

“Here,” the Baroness says, passing her a rather nice wool jacket. Leah tests them, and they form tiny blue sparks of static. She puts the jacket on and pins the earrings inside the sleeves.

They meet up with the guard in the hall and rush down the stairs into the bathing rooms, the large vaulted stone ceiling echoing back their footsteps as they run. The entry to the tunnel is a large copper plate fitted into marble, with a spout for the water to exit by. Leah and the captain turn the metal plates holding it taut, and gently lower the cap to the stone floor; it wobbles as it settles, and the sound is amplified, eerie and alien.

The tunnel beyond is stone, with mortar applied to make it smooth and waterproof. Years of scale and mineral build-up give it a rippled, slimy appearance, though it is dry as bone to the touch. The captain goes in first, checking the width, and when he confirms that it is a viable route the Baroness goes in next. Leah gives her a leg up, and notices the stiletto dagger at her hip.

Oh? The Lady of the keep can take care of herself in a scuffle, it seems… Leah feels a little more confident about this half-baked plan.

Leah climbs in last, and in the pitch darkness they begin crawling.

The tunnel slopes down for a little bit, at first, until eventually they are crawling through a shallow pool of frigid water, the sulphur stink strong in the air. They cough a bit and continue past, Leah breathing through her mouth to try and keep from gagging. She wonders how well sound carries down this pipe, and if anyone could hear their coughing at the other end.

They crawl for a good fifteen minutes, shuffling along inches at a time. The air of the pipe gets very cold, and Leah supposes they must be under the river. This seems to be confirmed when shortly after they leave the cold, the tunnel begins sloping up again.

“There,” the captain says, shuffling around to pull the canvas-wrapped crowbar over and into place, clanking dully against the stone walls. There is a loud creak, and then a crash, as metal falls back against the floor of the passage. “Shit.”

“Just keep going,” Leah calls forward in a whisper that echoes up to regular speaking volume.

The captain presses forward and looks up. “Stone’s gone,” he says, shuffling. “And there are rungs up to the surface.” He begins climbing.

“Wait for him to check,” Leah says, holding the Baroness back before she can follow him. They both wait in the dark tunnel, hands and knees numb from cold, until they hear his footsteps stop.

He calls them up, and they go, squinting in the light from the nearby street. The building is uncomfortably warm, and stinks of sulphur. He gestures for silence, and motions Leah over to the doorway. Leah kneels down beside him and squints out, until her eyes have adjusted and she can see more clearly.

The torches that light the street are held in sconces, not by people; every corner is clearly lit, and there are a few soldiers walking rounds through the streets, in pairs. There are no civilians visible.

“There’s a fishermen’s dock at the north end,” the captain whispers, “If we get there, we can get a boat to take us beyond the light, and then to the west bank.”

“Do you know the way?” Leah whispers back.

“Very well.” They both fall silent as a pair of foot soldiers pass. “But I don’t know which roads will be most watched. Stay here with the Lady Valerid, and wait for me to return.”

Before Leah can protest, the captain slips out of the door and darts along a street, into shadow.

“How far are we from the north docks?” Leah asks the Baroness, barely breathing the question.

“Not ten minute’s walking,” she says, crouched amidst old barrels and racks of digging equipment.

Leah suddenly notices the contents of the room, now that she has time to kill. A metal pipe runs up the side of the well out of which they climbed, and holding her hand over it Leah can feel the heat radiating off. She follows it back through the building and sees that it drains into a series of switchback holding tanks with metal covers, apparently to be boiled or evaporated off – or perhaps the extraction process is magical.

Ensuring there are no Chedens hidden among the works, she doubles back to the Baroness and waits in silence.

The minutes drag on, and Leah’s tension mounts, until about half an hour later Verith returns. He opens the door and steps inside, looking around in the darkness. Leah is about to whisper a quick word to help him find them, when he suddenly twitches, a shiny metal sword-tip piercing through his neck.

The Baroness flinches against her, and Leah shifts her position, drawing Jeno’s – Eschen’s – dagger.

The captain drops in front of them, sliding off the sword with a rustle of fabric and a slight clunk as his head hits the stone floor. The figure standing behind him takes a few steps in, a silver light flickering in their eye.

Leah’s grip on the dagger tightens as she recognises the short-cropped black hair under a blacked-iron helmet. Kain isn’t dead. I guess this is good news?

Kain turns her head slowly. A faint echo-y voice sounds from her wrist. “I don’t see anyone in there with you; the guard must have been a diversion, or a deserter.”

Kain nods and turns to leave, never a moment of expression on her face. The door closes gently behind her.

Leah lets out a held breath, knuckles white around the dagger.

“Where do we go now?” the Baroness whispers. “The captain may have found a boat for us to take.”

“You go to the boat,” Leah says, standing and quietly moving to the door. “I’ve got one more person to go after.”

Lady Valerid’s hand on her arm stops her. “My husband told me what you did for us,” she says. Leah turns to face her, in the dark. “You went out to discuss terms with captain Eschen, to try to buy us time. When you returned, you had that.” She gestures to Leah’s bandaged side, partially hidden under the jacket. “If you went against him now, would you be able to beat him? Surrounded by his soldiers, exhausted, with only a dagger?”

“But Kain is – ”

“He hasn’t killed her, and he isn’t going to. She’s under his spell, clearly, and he is finding a use for her.” The Baroness stands at the door with her. “Would it not be wiser to withdraw and plan, and come back for her when you have a hope of success?”

“But – ”

“Why do you hurry towards death? What are you afraid is chasing you?” The Baroness gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Your memories will not return to you if you pass by the lips of the Lady of Murk at every opportunity. You are needed here now.”

“But – ”

“Miss Talesh,” Lady Valerid says gently. “You said you would help me escape. Was that a lie? Is your pride worth more than your honour?”

Leah looks out the crack of the door at the empty street.

“Is it clear?”

Leah nods, and opens the door just wide enough to pass through, dagger still drawn. Together, they dart out and into an alley, slowly making their way north.