‘Thanks,’ he spluttered.
‘No problem,’ Lan replied.
The place offered a good view of the area. The sun was higher in the sky now and a cold wind blew half-heartedly. The youths had moved on a few streets, and Lan spotted them heading towards the east.
‘Let’s go over.’ Fulcrom steadied himself, took a run and leapt across the three-foot gap between the rooftops. Lan effortlessly took a large step, her foot hardly touching the adjacent roof before she’d moved on to the rooftop of Malum’s building.
‘All right,’ Fulcrom muttered as he landed alongside her and wiped the gritty rainwater from his palms.
There was a hatch on the top, a mouldy bucket to one side, but otherwise nothing else of use. Fulcrom headed towards the hatch, saw that it had not been opened for a while.
‘Lan, can you give a hand here?’
‘Sure, is it locked?’
‘I’m not sure. It just needs a yank to pull it open, but I don’t want to make a noise.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Lan hunched over the hatch and tuned in to her powers; then, with a quick heave, she snapped up the hatch. It came loose, and the noise was discreet enough not to raise an alarm.
After a few minutes, confident that they were unheard, Fulcrom poked his head into the opening: there was only blackness down below, but with enough daylight leaking in he could make out floorboards.
‘OK, let’s head in and leave the hatch open.’
They both descended into Malum’s building, Lan more fluidly than Fulcrom, and they left the hatch half open so that they could see what they were doing. They found themselves in an attic space, with old fishing crates, nets, buoys and paintings all gathering dust. Some of the floorboards seemed rotten, and Fulcrom cautiously tested them with his foot before applying his weight.
‘So where next?’ Lan whispered.
‘We listen and we wait.’
They nestled themselves in one corner and, from their position sitting on the floor, Fulcrom spotted a door. He gestured to it and, in hushed tones, said, ‘We can head through that if we want to hear more, but for now I suggest we just hang about for a while to see who’s around and find out what their plans are. Without the backing of a great force all we can do is spy on them and work out what they’re up to.’
‘Fun,’ Lan whispered sarcastically.
‘Hey, this is the dull side of working in the Inquisition — a lot of waiting around to see if something happens. It isn’t that glamorous.’
‘I’d better get used to it then,’ Lan replied, reclining with a sigh.
A door slammed somewhere down below.
Lan and Fulcrom snapped to attention, Fulcrom’s heart beating quickly now. Voices drifted up from below, commanding tones, precise instructions.
‘It’s him,’ Fulcrom whispered. ‘It must be.’
‘How long have we been here now?’
‘No idea.’ Fulcrom stood up, brushed himself down and looked up at the hatch. The sun had moved significantly since they had entered the building. ‘I reckon at least three hours.’
‘You were right, this is dull work.’ Lan joined him as they moved towards the door.
Fulcrom pressed his ear against the wood.
Malum. . we’ve got most. . east city.
Killed ten soldiers already, bodies dumped in the harbour.
When shall we start?
More time. More numbers? We’ve thousands right?
Military. . unguarded.
Empress? Haven’t seen her for weeks.
Fulcrom peeled back a minute later, when the people who had entered the building began laughing about something else.
‘Well?’ Lan asked. ‘I say we head down there and get them now.’
‘We don’t know how many are down there and how well armed they are. We’re not an army.’
‘So what? We can take them, surely. I’ve got my powers.’
Someone shouted from underneath.
Fulcrom watched in horror as Lan, almost bouncing on the spot to ready herself, suddenly put her foot through a floorboard: as she tried to rebalance herself, she engaged her powers, which worked against her. She flipped her head back and smacked it on a timber support with the full force of her enhancements.
It happened so quickly.
‘Fuck.’ Fulcrom dashed to her side and was relieved to see that she was still breathing, although she had cut open her head on the sharp edge of the pillar.
Footsteps on the stairway.
Fulcrom glanced to the door and back to Lan. He tried to lift her up, to see if she was still alert, to see if she could tune in to her powers.
Footsteps were now outside the door. There was a silent pause then the door was kicked open. Four men each carrying a blade ran forward into the room — and there were another two coming up, all of them tough-looking types that looked as if they knew their way around a fight.
Fulcrom held up his hands as if to say something but a punch came to his face and the next thing he knew he was pressed against the floorboards.
‘What the fuck should we do with ’em?’ someone said.
‘Tie them up. Take the buggers down to Malum. He can decide.’
Still dazed, Fulcrom felt the ropes binding around his wrists and twisted his head so that he could see Lan. She, too, was being bound. Together they were dragged downstairs by their feet, each step digging into his back. The two of them were shoved into a brighter, cleaner room that was sparsely decorated. There was a window overlooking the street, a few tables, a row of swords and a few bottles on the floor.
Fulcrom breathed mindfully, trying to force away the pain. Stay alert, stay smart. .
‘So,’ came a strong, bass voice, ‘we have guests. Two more for the takeover, do you think?’
There were a few chuckles from the others, as Fulcrom and Lan were levered upright and pushed against a wall. Fulcrom looked over to Lan to make sure she was OK, but she was still dazed.
His vision settled on one man sitting back with his feet up on a large table. It was Malum. There was a blade resting by his boots. He picked up the blade and pointed it at Fulcrom. ‘You. What the fuck were you doing up there?’
‘We’re homeless lovers, sir. Looking for shelter. Times are tough in the city and we’ve fallen on hard times. Have a heart.’
‘Bollocks are you homeless,’ the man replied. ‘That medallion around your neck is worth a month’s rent for a start. Speaking of which, it’s one I haven’t seen in a while. Inquisition, right?’
‘I stole it.’
‘Give up, clown, it’s obvious who you are. The Inquisition is usually in the pocket of the gangs, or it was before the war, anyway, so I’m guessing you’re new stock, that right? Working for the albino?’
Fulcrom nodded.
‘Hear that, lads? This is the albino’s last line of defence.’ They all laughed.
‘So what were you doing up in the attic. .’ Malum mused. ‘Hoping to listen in to my progress to report back to the albino, right?’
Fulcrom simply gave a sigh in reply.
‘Well then. You know the albino isn’t around now, right?’ Malum stepped back to get a better look at his two captives.
‘He’s at war, trying to save people’s lives,’ Fulcrom replied defiantly.
‘I was thinking of leaving your heads for him as a welcome-back present.’ At that point, Fulcrom realized he would probably die, and he greeted the thought with utter calm and logic. ‘I had hoped for a more adventurous, braver end to things.’
‘Ain’t that always the way,’ Malum muttered. ‘No triumphant ending for you two.’