For the first time in his life, Halfur was glad for Yemi’s company. The ceiling had been caving in slowly for hours, and everything they’d done to brace it was about to come undone. He was cursing himself for telling Salimod his observations of the undercroft. I told the scum how to murder us. “Hurry Yemi,” he urged.

“I am!” she shouted.

Halfur smiled. He was genuinely proud of her lockpicking skill, but irritating her was the one pleasure he could find in the moment.

“Done!” she dropped her hairpin and pressed down on the handle. Nothing happened. “It’s stuck!”

Halfur pushed her aside and gave the door a hard shove. It didn’t budge. He turned to the guards that had been posted in their chambers with them. They all leaned against the door and pressed their feet against the floor, straightened their bodies, and with all their strength they opened the door a few inches. Yemi squirmed passed them all and peeked through, screeched, and slammed the door shut. Halfur heard a thunk and the tip of a quarrel pierced through the door. Halfur snarled. Behind them was a loud snap. One of the beams from the bed they’d disassembled had buckled under the weight of rock and dirt the humans were piling on top of their room. The ceiling gave way and piles of rubble and boulders poured in, followed by an endless stream of sand and rotten grain. Yemi darted into the room and looked up into the hole. “Yemi!” Halfur shouted. He gestured to one of the Stone Guard and the soldier ran after her and politely lifted her over his shoulder. “This way, Dread Highness,” he said before setting her down next to Halfur.

“I was trying to see if we could climb up,” she explained.

Halfur rubbed his temples. “Yemi, your logic sometimes…”

“We can’t just sit here!”

“Any more than we climb up that hole! I need to think. Everyone keep quiet.” He looked about the room. Dirt, sand, rocks and more rancid grain flooded in a torrent through the ceiling, breaking more cracks into the already heavily stressed floor. They’d taken every piece of furniture apart to brace the feeble wooden ceiling, all the doors were barred or barricaded, and there were armed guards outside. The drain. He ran to the privy and pried the seat off with Yalla, ignoring the stink and looking to see if anyone larger than Yemi could fit. “It has to be you,” he told her. She looed at him aghast, her face twisted in a most horrified manner. “Come on,” he said, “time to earn the name Fustilugs.”

“Only Ror can call me that!”

“And he’ll have good reason soon. Come along Yemi, only you can fit.”

The door to the outer hall of the undercroft was under a tunnel roughly ten feet long with a sturdy arched ceiling. He and the guards could survive for a short time under there while Yemi found her way through the privy drain, to the warren, and up the stairs to their apartments. If only he could get her to go.

“If you make me crawl through there then I’m not coming back for you.” Her face kept contorting into new visages of disgust.

“Do it, Yemi, or we’ll all die. They’ll kill you if they find you alone, but if you’re with me they’ll be the ones to die.”

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“Maybe I’ll save our guards and leave you!”

Halfur closed his eyes and balled his fists, then grit his teeth so hard they about came lose. “Please,” he mumbled.

Yemi was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded. She ran through the debris falling through the ceiling, hiked up her skirt, and stepped onto the edge of the privy.

“Highnesses,” said one of the guards, “out in the hall…”, he gestured quickly. They ran back to the door and pressed their ears against it. Halfur recognized Dennel giving muffled commands, then for a moment there was quiet. He felt their footfalls coming near and pulled Yemi back. There was a sound of large things being moved away from the door, then it opened and Dennel stepped through. A dozen armed men were behind him in jack chains and kettle helms. Halfur raised Yalla to Dennel’s throat. “I’m going to kill your king,” he said in a cold growl.

“Another day,” the human replied. Blood trickled down his throat where Yalla touched. “Neri and your other guards await you, at the mouth of the tunnel, on the easterly side of Cavanal. Please, my Prince, hurry. These men are trustworthy, but it won’t be long before the other patrol returns. I have the whole tunnel clear for the moment, and you can make it if you hurry, but you must go now.”

Halfur looked past Dennel to the score of men behind him. They were old as he, grizzled and battle worn, and every one of them was afraid. Halfur sheathed Yalla and stepped through the door, followed by Yemi and the Stone Guard.

“Has your king gone mad?” Halfur asked as Dennel led them hurriedly through the undercroft.

“My king is a wretched fool who can’t tell a quill from a sword. But I cannot speak on this treachery. All I know is that he’s been keeping sordid company of late; cronies of the new drow Empress, and a cutthroat named the Hood. I fear the Hood may hunt you as you make your escape, and I urge you not to underestimate him. He’s the most sought after catspaw of all our kin, and for good reason. His Grace could have doubled his holdings for the gold he’s paid that demon.”

“And what does he pay that demon to do?”

“Things I’d rather not speak of. Were that man a goblin, he’d need a second pair of ears to hang all his clink, only I don’t think the goblins hang a jewel for murdering children, or hapless elders, or women as they suckle their babes. There are no bounds to the ill that filth is capable of. Be wary.”

“If he had anything to do with that cave-in then I’ll assuredly be watching for him.”

“Then heed my warning, he does not hunt alone. Others follow him; thieves, murderers, rapers, and it’s said he tamed a dreadwolf bitch, and that she protects him as if he were her own pup.”

“I could use a new pelt for my chambers.”

All Dennel said proved true. The tunnels were empty, but they would hear voices echoing in halls they’d just left. They went the rest of the way in silence, and quickly as they could with only one torch held by one of Dennel’s men, so as not to draw the attention of other patrols. Halfur wondered at the battles these old men must have fought together to earn their Captain’s respect. For a dim eyed human to trust another with the only torch in a dark place was trust indeed.

Neri was waiting with his Owls and the rest of the Stone Guard. Night had fallen and the air was warm and heavy with moisture. Halfur thanked Dennel brusquely as they left, and would have ignored his parting comment had the old man not spoken so piteously. Instead, he paused and looked halfway over his shoulder.

“Whatever reprisal you seek, Dread Highness,” Dennel’s voice slightly quaked, “I beg you, spare our people.”

“You’ll need to beg mercy from my father, not me,” Halfur replied. “And I hope Empress Alydia is paying your king well. He’ll need an army of Hoods to protect him now.”