Lapis happily took the escape route that led from Rin’s suite to the sewers; no chance the Dentherions downstairs would follow them. Scand must have joined Rin on some of his exploration of the underground ways, for he proceeded directly to a hatch they used to climb into a dark niche near a dilapidated building. From there, they raced through the empty backways and frozen alleys of the Grey Streets, heading for the Ella Theater.
She knew a little about the place. It once housed summer plays for the royal family and their guests, with a nice view of the Shell Streets countryside beyond the city wall. When the Dentherions built their new palace complex on the other side of the Wrain, they left grand structures like the theater to fall into ruin.
At various points, it had been an apartment building, a syndicate safehouse, and shelter for a shank ring, but currently sat in its sorry state because rumors flew about a murder victim haunting the place. A few rats had tried to make cubbies there, but they said they always got a weird feeling, so abandoned the attempt.
Too bad ghosts did not exist. It would be nice, if they scared the Dentherions into fleeing and left Lykas to escape on his own.
“Scand,” she puffed. “Heran and Nilas were following them. If you see them, head for them.”
He nodded and veered onto the snowy sidewalk, avoiding the slush-turned-slick-ice roadway. Snow proved the better footing, even if she wished it did not crunch so loud.
They climbed up a squat stone building, and Lapis held her breath on whether the swinging ladder would hold her weight. The jutting, worn bits of façade she could use for handholds had thick ice, so if the contraption gave way, she would plummet. She thankfully reached the top, and they hunched over, following an accidental walkway created by a decorative railing. From there, a series of boards crisscrossed the rooftops, and they scurried across them. She did not remember this many makeshift bridges and wondered which underground ring took advantage of the city guard’s demise to place them.
Once they arrived at the down-and-out noble mansions, they returned to the ground and kept to the main streets. The area had bright light and guards, but no one reacted to their flight. She had ventured through them often enough that most of the sentries knew her Lady Lanth persona and assumed, if they saw her, she chased a stake.
Scand skidded to a stop behind a broad-trunked, leafless tree, and peeked around the edge at the expanse of unmarked snow before warbling like a dying townbird.
“I thought you were going to work on that,” Lapis muttered. She could not discern his look, but she imagined his heated glare at the reminder that, no matter how hard he tried, the townbird tweets the rats used as signals escaped him.
“I do just fine,” he grumbled. They heard a return warble; faint, and to the left, away from the road.
They skimmed the fallen iron fence, Lapis concerned about the lack of concealment, but she could do nothing about it. Snow filled every surface surrounding the theater, most of it left in pristine banks. Lykas must not have led the Dentherions that way; hopefully he made them walk down the bush-infested entrance lane, and they had to battle through branches to reach the building, slowing them down.
Heran and Nilas huddled together behind a human-height metal box with an open door; whatever it once held had long ago departed with a shank. The hiding spot sat on higher ground than the theater building, giving a decent view of the front door and most of the back. Scand pressed into them and Lapis squatted to the side, her hands dangling between her knees.
“They still there?”
Heran nodded. “They’s makin’ a round o’ the place, seein’ what’s what. They beat Lykas.” She sucked up a spate of tears and released a puff that turned frosty mid-air. “They’s sayin’ he better show ‘m where these three convicts are. He’s tellin’ ‘m he don’t know.”
“They went in the entrance on the other side,” Nilas said. “We took a peek. They’re standin’ in the middle of the main floor, yellin’ at each other. They haven’t left yet, and I don’t know why.”
Patch asked her to wait, but she did not think they had time. She knew they carried tech, and a street rat like Lykas was not someone they would care enough about to keep alive. “How many are there?”
“Seven,” Nilas said. “Six of them broke off around Greenrock Street. Don’t know why and don’t know if they’ll meet up here or not. They’re carrying short tech handhelds like Dentherion soldiers have. Don’t know if they have any other weapons.”
“OK. People associated with my brother are on their way. If you see them, tell them what’s going on.”
“I’m going with you,” Scand told her.
“No.”
“Backup.”
“No! Scand—”
“I’m your apprentice, so backup,” he insisted. Damn rat, too stubborn for his own good. Hissing through her teeth, Lapis glanced at the dark building. She had been inside a time or two, but always through the front door, and always after a desperate shank. “Fine. Get me in a sneaky way. And Scand? First sign something’s going wrong, get out of there. Lykas and I aren’t worth you getting caught.”
“Whatcha plannin’, Lady?” Heran asked, her voice high with concern.
“I don’t know yet.” She patted her and Nilas’s arms. “Thank you.” She nudged Scand. “And I’m serious about this.”
“Yes, Lady,” he said, with all the sincerity of a cat who tried to trick their owner into thinking they did not want the fish dinner before snatching it off the plate. Had Rin worn off on him, or had his Shivers exploits made him bold? Both?
He crept from the box and scurried across the snow to the side of the building, and she followed, guilt parading through her for involving him. He better listen to her; if she had to put both him and Lykas in the Pit at the same time, she would shatter.
