Tane pretended to force her hands behind her back, and turned her around to face the steps.
‘What’s your plan?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘If we take you inside you’ll be taken into custody.’
‘I want to break out Fulcrom,’ she whispered, blinking as snow whipped into her face. Vuldon was negotiating with the soldiers to one side.
‘Do you want to join him in prison?’ Tane said. ‘They’ll kill the both of you — or at the very least, they’ll take away your powers.’
Vuldon marched over. He said quietly, ‘I guess you want us to help break Fulcrom out.’
Lan smiled. ‘Damn right I do.’
Vuldon said, ‘Well, the Emperor expects us to see to that fucking blur of magic on the horizon — it’s a cultist gone mad or something.’
‘That isn’t my concern,’ Lan said. ‘My concern is Fulcrom, and then Ulryk, who’s at the Astronomer’s Glass Tower right now, conducting his ritual. I’ve already seen the anarchists heading into Balmacara. They’ll act as a distraction. We’ve got a finite amount of time.’
‘Well, after we get Fulcrom, we should see what’s left of the city and evacuate it.’
‘Evacuate an entire city?’ Lan gasped.
The two men remained silent as they marched her up the steps, and it came as a relief to be out of the bad weather and into the ornate hall beyond.
‘We’re on our own from here I guess,’ Lan said. ‘No taking sides, no serving others, no orders. Just us, just the Knights.’
‘Fine by me,’ Vuldon replied. A young soldier slipped on the wet marble of the corridor in his hurry to check them, and Vuldon slammed a fist into his throat. Winded, the man collapsed in a clatter of armour.
‘Vuldon,’ Tane snapped.
‘What? Lan said we’re on our own.’
‘One could be more subtle about such things,’ Tane remarked with a sigh.
*
Caley followed Shalev and her revenge-seeking comrades through the black gardens of the Imperial residence. They scaled over the enclosed spaces, silent and rhythmic in their process. They flowed through abandoned guard stations, over beds of tundra flowers, ducked below ornate, iron-framed windows, and step by step they negotiated their way towards a particular window stationed by the residence’s kitchens. Two members of staff from Balmacara had long ago defected to the anarchists, and Shalev had gleaned all sorts of useful information including the layout of the residence.
Garbed in cheap, lightweight armour, and looking like some primitive leather-clad tribal warrior, Caley’s heart beat furiously as he watched his idol at work. Shalev held a relic underneath the vast window, activated it, and stood back as the glass melted into a pool of glowing purple slop on the sill beneath. Shalev grabbed the relic and stored it in her satchel. She leapt up, resting her knee on the edge, before manoeuvring inside.
Shalev held out her hand; Caley was the first to take it. Careful not to tread in the liquid glass, he hauled himself inside. As the others gained entry, he shuffled around in the darkness. The place reeked of stewed vegetables and herbs. He could see the shimmer of blades and utensils on one wall, beside two enormous stoves. Pots and pans were hanging above his head, and he swore he spotted a rat’s tail disappear around one corner.
Eventually the Cavesiders were all assembled inside and drawing their weapons before following Shalev through the darkness. Caley found himself getting increasingly angry as they exited the kitchen and rounded the corner. If he had been asked to imagine opulence, he would have struggled to match the reality of this place. How was it possible that people could live like this? Why was there a need for so much gold, so many gemstones, such a finely polished marble floor?
One of the others tried to knock a vase from its pedestal, but Shalev spun on her heels and gripped the ornament. She whispered harshly, ‘I know you want to destroy this place — but not yet, not now. First, we kill Urtica. With him dead, the fun can commence.’
Shalev led the way, having memorized the route from a crudely drawn map. She clutched a relic in one fist, ready to apply it, and Caley didn’t have a clue what it would do, but he felt safe with the fact that something secret and advanced could be used against the Imperials.
They progressed taking slow, cautionary steps, suddenly pressing themselves against the wall whenever anyone passed. Some corridors contained a constant level of activity: Imperial missives being carried about the place, soldiers marching with some urgency. It surprised Caley, given the time of night.
They climbed the stairs and reached the third or fourth level — he couldn’t be certain which it was — and they were presented with a vast, carpeted floor. Murals covered the walls and ceilings, though they couldn’t be discerned properly in this light.
Somewhere outside, the wind still moaned.
*
Lan was following Vuldon as he searched his memory and led them further and further into the heart of Balmacara. No one had stopped them to question their purpose, where they were taking Lan, and ultimately it ceased to matter. The focus of all activity was on the all-out war flaring in the city.
Tane was invaluable. He walked alongside Vuldon with his eyes closed, with Lan steering him gently, in order to tune in his hearing as effectively as possible. They scoured a few holding cells nearby, but there was no movement inside, not even anyone sleeping. There were no guards stationed, nothing to denote use of the facility. ‘I’m certain this place contains nobody at all,’ Tane declared.
Down ever musty stairwells, the walls giving way to raw stone, the Knights moved through the darkness, not wanting to even strike a match or speak to each other, in case they gave themselves away. Lan felt vulnerable down here, in these confines, without the freedom to move vast distances. Her faith and trust was in the other two — who had never once questioned her intentions, or her past.
Eventually they reached the solitary confinement zone. Everything had been too easy so far. Would Fulcrom be kept down here, in the worst of the gaols?
Tane waved again for them to stop, and on each occasion the tension was drawn out so much that it began to hurt. ‘Other voices,’ he breathed. ‘In the distance.’
Rounding the corner, she saw an area where a few torches were burning steadily. Further along the corridor two guards were sat playing cards. They must have been a hundred feet away. The shadows were bold, and Lan didn’t know what they might conceal.
Tane whispered, ‘Agents,’ and within a heartbeat there were four of the grey coats walking in a line towards them. She had no idea where they came from, but Vuldon stepped in front of her — for once, she wasn’t annoyed.
‘Hand it over,’ one of the agents muttered.
Vuldon grunted a laugh; here was a fight he wanted.
‘The he-she — give it here and we’ll say no more. You go your own way, we’ll go ours.’
‘The lady ain’t going anywhere,’ Vuldon declared. ‘At least, not with you.’
‘Lan is to be decommissioned,’ another said, she couldn’t see who.
Lan leaned forward to Tane and asked, ‘Is Fulcrom here?’
‘Indeed,’ Tane replied. ‘I believe he’s up behind the guards. One of those corner cells.’
Vuldon waded into the middle of the room, and beckoned the grey coats forwards. They fanned out, each carrying a weapon. Tane angled himself in alongside Vuldon, his claws extended, waiting.
Lan moved along the edge of the room, feeling the gaze of the agents upon her, but Vuldon saw to them. ‘Enough of this stand-off shit,’ he called out. ‘Give me a fight, wankers.’
They seemed to know enough about Vuldon to back off from him; in fact, they actively fled. It was absurd. Vuldon and Tane chased after them, hurtling through the shadows. Lan left them to it and sprinted at an alien speed to the end of the corridor, past the two guards. She peered in one celclass="underline" nothing, then another, nothing. She banged on the bars and heard a groan from the third.