“Tunnel’s ‘r empty,” Rin huffed as they ran. Multiple footprints tamped down the soft dirt of the tunnel, but they encountered no one else as they headed for the first corner.

“How crowded are they usually?”

“Not likes lots come down here, but it’s cold up. You get shanks down here, huddled up in a room with a fire, ‘specially thems from the crossgrates. No cardboard’s gonna keep the freeze off’m.”

True enough. “How often do you take the tunnels?”

“A bit, ‘til Ruddy’s. Then we’s thinkin’ we needed more escape routes than across roofs. Been takin’ rats down here, showin’ ‘m hidey-holes. They’s marked, iffen you knows what yer lookin’ fer.”

That made sense, and with the reading circle’s penchant for exploration, they probably nosed around until the syndicates shooed them away, or they had to run from nastier shanks.

“C’n get ‘round a couple tolls, but they’s strict about not lettin’ people through. Still, doubt them guttershanks ‘ll grab a kid front of ‘m.”

They noticed a cyan glow ahead of them, swinging between figures in long coats. Rin stuffed his light into his pocket, sending them into darkness. She felt for his hand, and they slowed, trotting on tiptoes. Echoes reached them, and they hunched down; the group sounded pissed, the kind where they beat their displeasure out on others.

“You’re reading that wrong.”

“No, I’m not!”

They spoke Lyddisian. Dammit, were they janks?

“We need to backtrack.”

“No, we don’t! I’m telling you, the tunnel we need’s further up.”

“I think we passed it.”

“Then you turn around and go back. And when Avoris asks about you, we can say you’re wandering around down here in the dark.”

“Then I will.” A violent movement of shadow coincided with the light swinging.

“Give that back.” Another shadow rushed the first, they all blended together, and a muddle of sound reached them.

“You wanna follow them?”

“No.”

Rin laughed under his breath. “You know these tunnels?”

“No, and the map doesn’t have an alternate way, so I think we’re stuck behind them.” She lifted her lip and grumbled to herself. Before her brother showed up, she had avoided tunnel travel without difficulty.

A flicker of orange came from the left; Lapis focused on that as the argument increased in volume and intensity. Rin squeezed her hand and tugged; they crept to the light and peeked into the room. The people huddled around a sad excuse for a fire did not seem to hear the commotion in the tunnel; they remained asleep, curled in ratty layers of blankets. One man set another quarter-log on the flames and dug at the blackened chunks beneath it with a thin stick to get it situated, his face worn from life’s travails. He glanced at them with dull eyes, retreated under his blankets, and laid down in front of the dwindling woodpile.

“Lady, they’s comin’.”

Lapis slipped inside, keeping her back to the grimy wall as she avoided stepping on the sleepers. She pulled her collar up, hoping it filtered out some of the smoke clogging the room; there must be some way it ventilated, but whatever that was, it did a terrible job.

“Give that back!”

“I told you, you’re reading it wrong!”

If they were janks, and they wanted to get to the Intersection, she was glad the confident one was mistaken. The group bustled by without peeking into the room; they probably had done so the first time they passed, realized no one of interest warmed themselves at the fire, and disregarded them.

The squabbling resounded down the passage for longer than Lapis anticipated; Rin peeked around the door, then finally motioned to her. The group’s light still flickered within viewing distance, but they appeared engrossed in their arguments. She snagged her apprentice’s hand again, and they trotted away from the enemy.

Did the janks know the meeting place switched to the Intersection? How? Or were they following a map to the Overroute? She puzzled over why they wished to intercept Midir and Jo Ban in the first place. Yes, Midir headed the rebellion, but few outside the Wolf Collaborate and scattered allies knew that. Yes, Jo Ban was a terrboss, but she doubted apprehending him was the reason they had agents throughout the Lells. Did they think the lost heir accompanied them to Jiy? He was their target, after all. Wasn’t he?

The darkness squeezed in, parading over other thoughts, and fear rose, hard. Rin pulled out the light and winked at her; she realized she crushed his fingers between hers.

“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling away and wiping her hand on her pants.

“Nah, ‘tis fine. Considerin’ yer past, it’s a wonder you c’n still walk down here.”

She had little choice in the matter.

“Phialla’s scared of the dark. We gots her a little light knickknack from the Night Market, so she c’n sleep.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“She don’t like talkin’ ‘bout it. Think only me’n Lyet knows.”

Lapis wished she had safer places for the rats to live. Cubbies did their best, but as most were single niches, a roommate was not an option. She could see Phialla, who had trouble with her vision, viewing darkness as an added threat, and remaining awake all night, straining to detect the sounds of an interloper. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Maybe Dachs will let her stay in the pottery room. There’s lots of artists who live above their shops.”

“Huh. Not thought of that. Phialla’s quiet, but she might not like the late noise from the Eaves.”

“Yeah.” She picked up the pace. “Scand sleeps in a graveyard and Phialla’s scared of the dark. Any other opposites I should know about?”

“Naw. Rest of the circle’s fine. I keeps an eye on ‘m.”

“I know you do. You’re a good older brother.”

He snorted. “You sounds like Gabby.”

“You’re the closest they have to an older sibling. Lyet, Lykas and Jandra don’t quite fill that role, and the older kids who were around when I started the reading circle have drifted away.”

“Yeah. We’s closer than other rats ‘cause of Chinder. He got us thinkin’ like family, not like a shank out fer themselves. And, well, that’s like you. You gives us all you gots, even now, when you have yer brother ‘n Patch.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“There’s always excuses to turn us away. We’ve heard ‘m all. But you’ve never use ‘m.” He pointed. “Lookie there.”

A red point of light glowed in the distance. Was that the lantern? They hustled to it and looked down the tunnel; another lantern flickered further on, one that looked about to reach the end of the wick. Lapis glanced at the map, and they took the new route; the Ram had said nothing about other tunnels marked by a red light, so she hoped this was the correct way.

The echoes of their boots off the patterned metal plates, combined with the eeriness of a scarlet-drenched walkway, bothered her. She hated the sense that the walls closed in, suffocating her, when they did no such thing. As much time as she now spent underground, she had yet to adjust to the feel of a tunnel, and found her hair prickling on her arms and her neck twitching at random noises.

They reached the larger, better-lit thoroughfare, which, even at that time of night, should have had a shank cluster or two walking down the way. Night, after all, hid all sorts of nefarious syndicate and ring deeds. Guttershanks must have noticed the congregating janks in the Lells and decided to stay well-clear of the action.

Lapis looked both ways; wheel tracks sank into the ground in the center of the passage, and stray black wiring hung from the ceiling. The lamps attached to the walls at fifty-pace intervals blazed bright, and no clutter or debris sat on the ground; if anyone traveled the tunnel, they had no shadowy hiding places.

She took a quick peek at the map; the Intersection was close, even if she could not say exactly how near. Rin shoved the light into his coat, they turned left, and ran.

Once there—

A shank group raced out of a doorway to the left, huffing and whining, carrying bulging sacks with unidentifiable things inside. Right behind them dashed black-coated janks, holding lights and looking around as if they had never encountered an underground passage before. The shanks headed their way, making it impossible to avoid the agents’ notice.

Lapis screamed, as long, as loud, as she could; she had no other way of alerting those at the Intersection the enemy closed in. Both groups jerked and stared in shock as Rin pivoted and tumbled back into the red-lit tunnel, and she retreated, releasing a last shriek before pelting after the rat.

Damn the janks. May the non-existent gods curse them into oblivion.

Shouts, a rush of sound behind her.

Rin took a doorless side route, and she followed the shaking of his light across a room with equipment shoved to the sides, creating a narrow pathway that exited out the other side and into a pitch-black place that echoed with each footfall on the concrete surface.

She lost her apprentice; she shrieked as a hand snagged her arm. Rin pushed her into a wobbly ladder.

“Go,” he whispered. She hastened up, wincing as ice-cold metal burned through her gauntlet gloves. The material stuck to the rungs, and she yanked her palms away, cursing the weather, the situation, the heir, and those who chased him.

She did not exit onto a street as she expected, but into a long, two-story room with large, frosted windows that had light shimmering through the top of the panes. She planted her hands on an uneven surface that crackled under the pressure, and she winced as she pulled herself up. Rin popped up behind her, then shined his light down into the hole; energized shouts came from below. He smacked her arm, and she followed him to a door, tripping over discarded trash and whatnot.

The clang of the ladder drowned out the flutter of debris that cascaded down as the rat opened a door on the far side. She whisked through, he slammed it shut, and pointed to the left.

She recognized the street; it sat between the Lells and the Docks, a grungy area that housed abandoned buildings and dilapidated factories turned into leather and cloth-making businesses. Those factories produced a lot of smoke and nasty smells, and unless one worked there, few willingly traveled near them. She had chased her share of shanks to the abandoned structures, and, depending on her mood, left them to rot inside their metal-walled hideaway with the tummy-twisting odors.

She glanced over her shoulder to see if they still had their tail. As the businesses employed night workers, the streetlights and building lanterns provided enough illumination, the janks should notice them, and hopefully follow.

Keeping Midir safe was first and foremost in rebel thought, and drawing as many after her and Rin as possible would help in that—and give Varr less to do when the rest faced him for head-bashing.

The group burst from the building then stopped, looking wildly around.

“How far you wanna draw them?” Rin huffed. He slowed his step as they hit iced paving stones, and Lapis did the same, fighting the urge to mindlessly run run run. Falling would not help them or fleeing dignitaries.

“A bit further. I don’t want them to go back and join their friends; I want them lost up here.”

“Got it.” Rin took the next corner, and they skidded and slid down it. He hopped around two men hauling some heavy crate from a wagon to an open double door on the opposite side of the road, and, arms flailing, she arched away and skated past. They yelled after them in nasty tones, then yelped as something crashed; janks must have run right through them.

“Looks like we broke seven off,” Rin said. He pointed to the left corner, and they rounded it. The street had brighter lights, watery but not frozen pavement, and the roar of mechanical equipment; a Dentherion owned the two buildings and brought in aquatheerdaal-based machines to make rope. As the machines never stopped, the employees worked day and night to finish up and package the lengths.

They wound between wagons and crates, a pile of lumpy sacks, then ran; the janks pursued, cursing. She glanced back; they waved weapons at the unlucky crew in their way, and the men hunched and scurried away while someone at an open door screamed at them.

“They drew weapons.”

“Must think we’s more’n typical shanks,” Rin muttered. “Gots a place to hide in the warehouses past the row. Think that’s far ‘nuf?”

“Yeah.” she huffed. After losing them, they needed to contact the House, tell them she and Rin were safe, and mention the janks in the tunnels. They probably already knew about that, but she could confirm. She wracked her brain, but the nearest safehouse she could recall was Shawe’s smithy. He hid rebels all the time, but she did not know if he had comms equipment.

They passed a single-story, burned husk without a roof, which allowed a clear view to the eastern side of the Wrain. The skyshroud was a black blot above the twinkling lights of Green Castle, dim blue jets on the bottom delineating it from the star-sprinkled sky.

Rin followed her gaze. “Dignitaries showin’ up, jest when it’s gettin’ here. They’s got some plan?”

“Midir does.” What, she had no idea, though if Requet sent a few tech cannon shots into the palace, she would not complain. Hopefully it made it past Blossom before it hit dirt, and the rebels and Minq could secure it before the palace sent guards to nose around.

They ran down a snow-filled alley, and the group split. Trying to corner them? Rin chuckled and led her into another row of lit buildings that smelled like smoky earth and sharp whitewood fires. The drifts shoveled against the grooved metal walls had a blanket of grey coating the white stuff, and the frozen slush in the center of the street was dingier. Grimacing, she held her arms out for balance on the uneven, icy surface.

The rat scampered up a ladder attached to a lopsided wooden shack on the other side of the intersection; Lapis caught a glimpse of the two groups homing in on them, one from behind, one from the right. She hastened up and scurried to a jagged hole in the tiled roof, happy he knew the area well enough to use urchin escape routes. A rope was nailed to the side of the opening and dangled into darkness below. Hoping the end did not pull away under her weight, she slid after him.

The interior smelled of decaying wood and something between rotting piss and sour eggs; she shoved her coat collar up, wondering what stunk. Would her clothes soak up the smell? She hated the thought of issuing rank odors for the rest of the night. Rin opened a door and hustled into a windowless walkway that ran to the next unlit building; if the janks thought to cut them off, they would run into a solid wall without an entrance. Fighting the urge to gag, she shuffled after him.

Rin pulled out his light and crept into the structure. They wove through narrow pathways between stacked crates that rose to the ceiling; Lapis caught the glint of steel walkways on the second story. Halfway down an aisle the rat squeezed through a narrow gap, and grumbled about the width, she sucked in her gut and held her breath to slip after him. She winced as her coat brushed the grungy wood; her poor attire. She would need to visit a bath and get them deep cleaned, washing away the memory of this night with the grime.

She exited into a space with the ashes of a tiny fire in the center and a pile of fire-starting supplies to the side. Not the safest place to light a blaze, especially with the wooden crates surrounding it, but that was not her problem. Rin opened a door made from chain link fencing and poorly nailed boards and motioned for her to enter first.

She heard shouts and crashing.

Just beyond the door was a ladder. She expected squealing and groaning, but it remained silent as she scurried up. Someone, whether rat or guttershank, had oiled it to make certain anyone on the chase could not hear their prey clambering up. She crawled onto a small metal platform with holes in the flooring, remained squatted, and felt around her before getting out of Rin’s way; falling off was not on her list of fun activities that night. He pulled himself up, stuffed the light into his pocket, and reached for her. While awkward, he guided her to a space behind crates and stopped.

A line of second-story grungy windows faintly illuminated the walkway by way of ambient streetlight. Frozen air drifted up her back, and she shuddered; the window behind them had no bottom panes—not broken, just gone. Enough loose snow sat on the small pile beneath the sill, the wind picked it up and scattered tiny bits across the floor.

That must be their escape route.

“They’re in here.”

“I know they’re in here. And if you keep shouting, they’ll know we are, too,” came the hissy reply.

Rin chuckled. “Dentherion’s finest.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “We should thank the non-existent gods that Celem replaced the seasoned agents with lackeys. Their ignorance is in our favor.”

“It’s beeping.”

“I know that,” came the aggravated response.

“Then answer it!”

A clattering echoed off the crates, then a device fuzzed, static loud enough she located their position. Did the new man in charge of janks not care that he endangered lives by sticking unqualified people in dangerous situations? “Get back to the palace,” a grumpy voice commanded.

“We’ve not found the targets,” came the quieter reply.

“Doesn’t matter,” the voice said as the volume decreased. “We have the Wolf and the Ram. Gall’s wanting us at the palace. Needs a crowd.”

Lapis stared at the darkness in front of her, her thoughts plummeting into a numb whirlpool and drowning. She curled her fingers, tips digging into the metal just as she dug her nails into the harsh bark of the tree eight years ago. Sobs had wracked her as smoke from charred wood and stone drifted across six open coffins lined up in a neat row. The laughter of hate-filled men waiting to slaughter grievers reverberated down the years, to once again foul her ears.

The Wolf and the Ram. The Wolf and the Ram. She caught a tearful breath. Faelan was meeting with underbosses like Double Catch, which was why she and Patch had to meet Midir and Jo Ban at the Overroute.

“Lady?” Rin asked. She set her hand on his arm, cold overtaking her.

“Rin, you need to get to Shawe’s. He’s got a house attached to the smithy. Knock once, then three times, then two. If he’s not there, run to the House.”

“But—”

“Tell them the palace has Faelan and Double Catch.”

“What?” His hand clutched hers back. “How—”

“Wolf and Ram, Rin. Midir has to know.”

“Lady, you can’t—”

“Little brother,” she whispered, ignoring his alarm. “I need you safe. Carry my love to them, to Patch.” She smacked his chest, pushing him off balance so she could twist away from his grip. She shuffled on her hands and knees to the window and slid over the side.

“Lapis!” Rin reached for her arm.

She hung briefly as she met his green tearing eyes, then let go. Snow cushioned her landing, so she scrambled to the trampled path at the side without much sting in her legs. With the wind at her back, she sprinted into the frozen night.

There was time. Still time. “Gall took our family, Faelan. I won’t let him take you.”