Hound smoothly stepped between them. "Our fight is not with each other," he soothed. "Let's set the thing loose and be gone before we're discovered. If we waste time arguing, we may lose all!" "Khem is right," said Raven. "Let's hurry up and get out of here."
Now the two men eased the crate forward, close to the opening of the sewer. Hound produced a metal tool of some sort and began to open the crate. At the final sound of tearing wood, the three leaped aside.
Nothing emerged.
Wolf peered down and swore. "Another damn box. What in the Nightlands is this, Khem, some kind of Mharian puzzle-game?"
"Security, I think," replied Hound absently. "I told you — this is quite the weapon." "So you say. But how do we get the thing down there?" asked Wolf.
Hound flashed Wolf an angry look, but said nothing. Instead, he set to work disassembling the innocuous-looking crate. He tossed pieces of wood down into the sewer as they came loose. After a moment, Wolf joined in. Raven watched for a moment, then moved away. Tension radiated from her. She hunched her shoulders and tucked her hands under her arms as she glanced first one way, then the other.
"This is taking too much time," she hissed between clenched teeth. "I'm going to take a look around. You two are making enough noise to rouse the Nightlands King himself."
Wolf uttered a careless epithet, and Raven moved off. She sprinted down the alley, peered out, then returned.
Allika bit back a whimper. Now Raven was heading her way! Desperately the girl crouched back further, wishing there was a pile of refuse in which to hide. But there was nothing on this street, save the shadows themselves.
Raven moved closer with a steady pace.
"Got it," came Hound's voice laced with triumph.
Raven halted, wavered between continuing to investigate the length of the alley and returning to help her compatriots. If Raven moved another two yards down the street, Allika knew, she'd be close enough to penetrate the shadows that were Allika's only disguise.
After a moment that seemed like an eternity to the terrified girl, Raven whirled with a fluid movement and hastened back. Allika breathed again. She dared now to move a little, strain for a better view.
And gasped softly.
Inside the crate was a second box. It was as unlike the workaday crate as the sun at midday was to a dying ember. Allika guessed it was two feet long and over a foot wide. It was smooth wood, exquisitely carved and painted with symbols. None of them were familiar to Allika. It was clearly an item of value. The girl frowned and rubbed at her eyes. She must be more tired than she had thought, for it seemed to her the box was… glowing softly.
"I confess, Khem, I doubted," said Raven softly. "I doubt no more." She turned a beautiful smile on him and gripped his shoulder. He returned the grin. Wolfs frown deepened as he watched them, but he said nothing.
"I would not let it out now," said Hound. "Let's damage the box, and let it make its own way out."
"Good idea," said Raven. With his metal tool, Khem loosened the nails that held the front of the box closed. The creature inside-Allika was sure now that it was an animal, not a child-hissed and scrabbled at the confining wood, and the box rocked softly. All the thieves jumped back.
What was in that box? Something that was able to scare three grown-ups, that was for sure. Hound stepped forward and loosened the wood a little bit more. The thing inside raged now, and even as far away as she was, Allika could hear it beginning to gnaw on the wood.
"That's good enough," said Raven. "Push it down."
They began to shove the ornate box toward the sewer hole. With a final push, it went over the edge. Allika heard it crack as it hit.
"Excellent," said Raven, peering down. "That shattered the box. It's sure to work its own way out now. Come on, let's-"
They froze. All of them, even Allika crouched unseen in the darkness, could hear the muted sound of voices heading in this direction.
"Guards," hissed Raven. "Let's go. Now."
Hound glanced back. 'The grate…"
"Leave it. Let's go!"
They vanished into the shadows as if they had never been. All that was left to mark their presence was the open sewer hole cover.
Allika wasn't overly worried. If the guards happened upon her, she'd just start to cry and claim she was lost. They'd have pity on her and give her food and a warm place to sleep until the morning- by which time, of course, Allika would be long gone. She'd done it before, sometimes even on purpose. As long as the guards of Braedon didn't catch her with her little hand inside someone's pocket, she had discovered that could manipulate them as she chose.
But the booted footsteps and low talk died away without ever venturing down the alley. She waited a few moments longer, just to make sure that neither they nor the thieves were returning, then propped Miss Lally up on her bent knees.
"What do you think was in that box, Miss Lally?"
"Hm, I don't know, Allika. Let's be brave and find out! I bet Fox would want to know."
Her mind made up, Allika rose and walked softly over toward the open sewer entrance. Kneeling a safe distance away from the edge, she peered down.
The faint light of distant torches and moon's glow revealed nothing save some faint shapes. Allika frowned and scooted closer, angling her body so that she didn't block what light there was. Still nothing.
She plopped Miss Lally down near the edge, so that the doll could see, too, then stretched down on her stomach and edged forward an inch at a time, propelling her small body with toes and hands. Now her head was over the opening. Still, she could see nothing. Growing impatient, she also grew daring and leaned down, securing herself with her hands.
Something moved, and then two points of red light glittered up at her.
Startled, Allika gasped and flailed, trying to move back away from whatever was down there. One hand knocked into Miss Lally, and the little rag doll tumbled down, head over heels, to land with a soft plop in the sludgy water.
"Miss Lally!" cried Allika, heedless of the noise. She suddenly had a vision, of soft hands and a kind voice; a remembrance of a brand new Miss Lally, white and clean and unstained: You must take good care of her, site's your baby.
"Miss Lally," said Allika again, her voice a whimper now. Tears filled her eyes, dropped down twenty feet into the filthy water beneath. Miss Lally was made of light material; Allika had no trouble seeing her.
Again a movement, a flash of two red lights.
Allika sobbed brokenly. What was she going to do? Miss Lally was twenty feet below the surface, down there with that… whatever it was that Raven and Hound and Wolf had put there. But Allika couldn't just leave her. Miss Lally was her baby; she had to take good care of her.
She wiped her eyes with a dirty hand, forcing them to clear. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Allika whispered bravely, "I'm coming, Miss Lally."
The shaft that led down to the sewers was about three feet wide. Allika pulled off her ragged boots and swung her body around so that she would be descending feet first. Small, strong toes groped for crevices, protrusions, anything to ease her passage downward. Allika forced herself not to think of the thing down there in the dirt and dark, but only of Miss Lally. Slowly, she lowered herself, her small, soft mouth pursed in a grim line of concentration. The rocks were not smooth, and she was able to find purchase.
She was hanging by her hands now, and it took a great effort to move them down to the holds that had secured her feet. By leaning back, Allika was able to wedge herself in more securely and inch her way down.
She had already gone several feet. The rock was unforgiving and tore her already ragged clothing, left bruises and scrapes on her soft, pale skin. Allika paid it no attention. The main thing was getting down to Miss Lally, and finding her, and getting back to the docks where she could get out without running into that thing that was down there and The slippery walls turned traitor. Allika's feet shot out and she fell. There wasn't even time to scream before she landed, on her back, in six inches of filthy water and at least two soft, squishy inches of waste matter. The wind was knocked out of her and she gasped like a fish, splashing. Her shoulders and tailbone hurt, and as she flopped herself over and tried to stumble to her feet, her ankle shrieked in white-hot protest and she fell.