The guards only gave Zandrue a cursory look as she slipped past them and into the entry chamber.

A couple young boys jumped up from where they were playing cards on the floor.

“It’s okay, boys,” Zandrue said. “The service isn’t over yet. A deacon just came this way. Which way did he go?”

The two boys looked at each other and shrugged. “Nobody came through here, miss.”

“You’re sure?”

They nodded.

That didn’t make any sense. Dyle had come this way. He must have come in here.

She rushed past the two boys to the doors Dyle should have come through.

Rudiger came into the entry chamber. “Have you—”

Zandrue held up a finger, then pushed open the doors back to the nave. The two guards on the other side looked at her. At the front of the chamber, the King was just beginning to speak.

“Did someone just come through these doors a few seconds ago?” Zandrue asked.

They shook their heads.

Zandrue glanced about. Could he have slipped into Nature’s transept? Or perhaps he had moved into the congregation? Someone in priestly robes amid the congregation should stand out.

Rudiger came up to her and started to speak, but she shook her head.

“Go back to the other side,” she said. “Stand by Night’s plaque and keep your eyes open.”

He nodded and hurried back across the room.

Zandrue stepped back into the nave and edged along the north aisle, past a couple more guards, towards Nature’s transept. As she went, she scanned the congregation. The church wasn’t packed, and here at the back especially, there was a lot of open space. There weren’t many places Dyle could be hiding. He should stick out.

But there was no sign of him.

She looked over at Rudiger, who was just taking his place on the south side. He caught her look and shrugged back.

Reaching Nature’s transept, she peered around the corner. It was completely empty of any people.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. He couldn’t just disappear.

Had he discarded his robes and blended in with the congregation somehow? No, discarded robes would be obvious. Though maybe shoved under a pew? Could he be under a pew himself? Bending down to check would draw a lot of attention, and she was drawing attention as it was.

Damn it! Where had he got to?

She headed back to the entrance doors again, motioning to Rudiger to stay put.

Maybe he had somehow gone past the guards without them noticing. They might not pay attention to a deacon going through the doors. And then they would just forget he had gone through? Maybe it was so unimportant to them, he never really registered with them. Once in the entrance hall, he could have slipped past the boys without them noticing.

If so, there were two options for where he went next: outside or up the northeast tower. If he went outside, he’d had more than enough time to get out of sight by now. She might be able to follow his footsteps in the snow for a short distance, but they would become obscured once he reached the street. There was no way she was catching him that way now.

That left the tower. She just had to hope.

But the door to the tower stairs was locked.

“Uh, boys? Do you have keys for the northeast tower?”

“What do you want to go in the tower for?” one of them answered.

“Looking for a friend. He might have gone up the tower.”

‘Only clergy and caretakers have keys,” the other boy said.

“He’s one of the clergy.” He wasn’t, but he could have stolen the keys.

“We don’t have the keys, sorry,” the second boy said. “Besides, I don’t think your friend went up there. We would have heard someone open the door. It makes a lot of noise.”

“Okay, thanks anyway.”

Shit! How did he keep disappearing like this? How was it no one knew who he was, yet never noticed anyone out of the ordinary?

She had almost certainly lost him by now, but she might as well try outside.

She had left her winter cloak back on her pew. The heavy gown she was wearing would help keep her warm, but it was going to hamper movement in the snow. Even if she did see him out there, she probably wouldn’t be able to catch up to him. But it was worth a try.

Zandrue walked through the north doors and into the cold. She blinked repeatedly as her eyes adjusted to the harsh glare of the sun off yesterday’s dumping of snow.

Something hit her in the side and she stumbled, slipping on an icy patch near the steps and nearly falling over.

“Hey bitch. Long time, no see.”

She steadied herself and looked up. Her vision still hadn’t adjusted to the brightness, but there was a large figure coming towards her. The figure raised a foot, which connected with her stomach, sending her careening backwards. Luckily, the snow provided a soft landing. Without it, the back of her head would have certainly slammed into stone.

She tried to scramble back, her heavy skirts tangling round her legs. Her eyes finally focused, and she recognised the person bearing down on her: a tall, bald Eloorin. He had been one of Dyle’s men all those years ago in Quorge. One of the ones who’d tried to hire her services because they knew what she was. One of the ones who had attacked Felitïa. One of the ones Zandrue had failed to kill.

He lunged at her. She rolled in the snow, tried to kick his legs. If she could disrupt his balance…

The tangle of skirts weighed down by snow meant she missed by a large margin. He kicked her in the side. She grunted with pain. If she cried out, would the guards inside hear her? For that matter, why the fuck weren’t there any guards outside?

“Help!” It couldn’t hurt.

He kicked at her again, this time at her face. She managed to roll aside, but the damn gown continued to be a hindrance.

“I always knew we should have killed you years ago,” the man said.

“Not my fault you’re a slacker.” She tried to roll into a position to regain her feet. Fuck those damn skirts!

He raised a leg and brought it down on her chest. Zandrue grunted again. She was going to have some bruised ribs with that impact, but she was fairly certain he hadn’t broken anything. It was also a mistake on his part, as he hadn’t removed his foot.

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She grabbed his ankle and twisted it.

His foot barely moved. Damn, he was strong.

He pushed down harder.

She twisted her legs round, kicked at his other leg. Got him this time!

It probably didn’t hurt him much, but it did mess with his balance a bit. She twisted his ankle again and this time, he slipped and fell on his back. Something in the ankle she was holding cracked.

“Fucking bitch!”

Zandrue rolled again so that she could use her arms to leverage herself into a standing position. By the time she was up, he was already rising too. He had a limp though.

She fumbled at her outer skirt, trying to untie it. It did not want to give.

The bald man lunged at her again. She twisted round to the side, grabbed at his wrists as he tried to grab her. He was too strong for her to do much, but it distracted him just long enough for her to kick out, pushing his lower leg backwards as the rest of his body continued forwards.

He plunged face-first over the snow-covered steps of the Cathedral entrance. His chin hit the solid stone with a crack. He rolled over as she came at him. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and from the centre of his lower lip, which was missing a chunk.

Kicking was too awkward, so Zandrue jumped, brought her foot down on his face. His head fell back against the stone with another thud and twisted to the side. This time, he grabbed at her ankle.

She twisted herself in the same direction he twisted her and let herself fall. She caught herself with her hands. Pain shot through her ankle, but it could have been much worse. She lashed out with her free foot at the hand holding her other one.

She missed.

Her foot hit his neck instead and he choked. He let go of her to clutch his neck, gasping for air.

Zandrue pushed herself back to her feet. Then she kicked him in the side of the head before he could get his breath back. She kicked him again. Then again, and again. She really wished she had boots on right now, not soft shoes. His mouth, nose, and one eye were bloody, but she wasn’t doing nearly as much damaged as she wanted—or needed.

On her next kick, he grabbed her foot again, pulling her off her feet once more. The back of her head hit the stone steps, and she groaned. He didn’t keep a firm hold though, so she slid away as he got to his feet again.

He wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and spat out several teeth.

Zandrue scrambled to her feet as he limped towards her. Why the hell were there no guards? For that matter, where the hell was anyone? Surely people on the street could see what was happening.

She leaned over and grabbed two fistfuls of snow. There wasn’t any time to pack them, so she just lobbed them at him. Anything to distract him a little. He blinked and turned his head to the side. Then she balled her hand into a fist and lunged forward. She punched straight at the part of his neck that was already injured.

He doubled back, gasping for air again.

Zandrue continued forward. She punched to the side of his chin before he could regain air. He reeled, and she punched his neck again. Then she grabbed him by the ear and yanked to the side. He let out a gargled cry.

Despite interference from her skirts, she finally managed to hook her foot around his injured ankle. As he clawed at her hand holding his ear, she yanked his foot out from under him. He fell over backwards, the back of his head smashing into the stone steps. Zandrue was right on top of him. She slammed her foot down into his face. He went still, but she did it a second time for good measure.

She shook out her hand, clenching her teeth against the pain she was only just noticing. “Fuck!” He knuckles were bloody. She hated having to resort to fists.

She looked around. There was nobody on the Cathedral grounds. However, there were many people passing the open gates at the end of the walkway leading up to the Cathedral entrance. Did no one really look this way to see what was happening? She also needed to have a word with somebody about the security arrangements here today.

She knelt beside the big man and made a quick check of his condition. He was still breathing, if raggedly. She would love to kill him, and could easily do so now, but it would be more useful to question him. Instead, she quickly searched him in case he had something useful on him.

A rope to tie him up with would be nice.

No such luck.

She stood up again. He was too heavy for her to carry, especially with so many parts of her aching right now. Even dragging him would be awkward. Rudiger could do it. She’d go get him, though she had no idea where they were going to take the man.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she told the man’s inert form.

She headed back up the steps to the entrance, patting herself down as she went, wiping away bits of snow. Her dress was a mess. It was soaked. The skirts were out of place. There were several tears in both shoulders. She dreaded what her face must look like. She was going to present quite a sight walking back into the funeral. Luckily, few people would be looking in her direction.

The two boys jumped to their feet as she entered. “Are you all right?” they asked.

Zandrue walked straight past them. “I’ll be fine.”

She opened the south doors a crack and looked through. Rudiger was still standing where she’d told him to, his gaze slowly sweeping the large room. She really should have taken him with her.

At the front, King Wavon was still speaking. Virtually all eyes were on him.

She hissed at Rudiger.

The guards on the door turned to look at her. “Your face,” one whispered. “Are you all right?”

“I slipped and fell. I’ll be fine.” She nodded towards Rudiger. “I’m just trying to get my friend’s attention without causing a disruption.”

The guard who had spoken motioned to one of the guards along the south aisle nearest Rudiger. Once he had the other guard’s attention, he indicated Rudiger and then made a motion to come here.

The guard near Rudiger hissed softly at him, and Rudiger turned. The guard pointed back to the doors. As soon as Rudiger saw Zandrue, he hurried over to her.

She opened the doors wider to let him through, then closed them behind him.

He looked her over and reached for her arm. “What happened?”

She allowed his touch briefly before marching towards the north entrance. “I got jumped. Knocked him out, but I’ll need your help moving him. He’s one of the men who attacked Felitïa in Quorge years ago. I’m sure of it. It’s been a long time, but I’ll never forget those assholes.”

She headed out the doors and over to—

“Motherfucker.”

Rudiger came up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s gone.”

“Must not have been as knocked out as you thought. Come on, can’t have gotten far.” Rudiger moved forwards. “Some bloody spots in the snow here.”

Zandrue nodded. “Yeah, that there is where he was lying when I left him. I smashed his face up pretty bad.”

“No clear footprints though. You two flattened most of the snow over here.”

“Yeah well, he was trying to kill me, Rudiger.”

“I know, I know. Just pointing out the obvious. Sorry.”

“That’s all right. Sorry.”

“Can’t see any trails through undisturbed snow, so he probably—”

“Gods fucking damn it!” Zandrue kicked on of the pillars at the top of the steps. “How do they keep doing this? How do they keep slipping past us every fucking time?”

“It’s all right,” Rudiger said. “We’ll figure it out.”

She screamed and rounded on him. “And where the fuck did Dyle go? He was right there in plain sight, yet somehow vanished in the space of just a few yards. And what’s the point? If it was to lure me outside here, then why not just stab me and kill me with a knife? Why the fucking brawl?”

Rudiger came back over to her, and put his arms around her. She felt like pounding on his chest, but stopped herself, and just rested her head against his chest instead.

“How the fuck do they keep getting away?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but we’ll figure it out.”

She stood there awhile and just hugged him. The wind was cold, but he was warm, and the aches and pains in her body felt somehow lessened while he held her. She barely noticed the cold.

She couldn’t stand here forever though. As soon as the funeral was over and she could get him aside, she needed to talk to Ardon. Dyle had been wearing a deacon’s robes. Ardon would want to know about that. And Dyle had to have gotten the robes from somewhere. If they could track down whose robes he’d used, that might provide a lead.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s catch the end of the funeral.”

Rudiger nodded and she reluctantly let go of him. They headed back inside the Cathedral.