Nevchaned didn’t ask any further questions though. There’s a back door, he said. Take it and run. An image flickered into Singe’s head of the buttress-towers, one of them with Nevchaned’s shop at its peak, that hugged the side of the greater tower. More images followed in a rush: a door on the lower level of the apartment, a long and twisting flight of stairs past other apartments, an exit onto a lower street well away from Mithas and danger. Singe blinked at Nevchaned.
The elder scowled. Go! We’re not helpless!
Their leader is a sorcerer.
We have powers of our own, said Hanamelk. A seer can confuse as well as clarify. Go the Gathering Light. You’ll find refuge there if you need it.
Booted feet were already treading softly down the stairs. Be careful, Singe told the elders and dashed away. He had barely left them behind when he heard Nevchaned raise his voice in a loud demand. “What are you doing in my home?”
He almost wanted to stay and watch the two elders stand up to Mithas-he could imagine the frustrated look on Mithas’s face-but escape was a better alternative to fighting. Hanamelk had said five men, and Singe guessed that Mithas had brought four Blademarks mercenaries with him. He, Dandra, and Ashi could have taken the mercenaries, but he wouldn’t have put it past Mithas to prepare some special magic to use against them. And they couldn’t afford to fall to Mithas.
He ran down the stairs to the lower level as softly as he could, blessing Erimelk’s screaming for the cover that it gave him. “Ashi! Dandra!” he hissed. “We need to-”
He slid to a stop at the sight of Moon standing before the two women. Both Ashi and Dandra looked startled by something-and Singe knew that whatever it was, it wasn’t him. “What’s going on?”
Moon turned and looked at him with such hatred that Singe wondered what he’d interrupted. “Moon says he knows where Dah’mir is,” Dandra said.
“Twelve bloody moons.” The door that Nevchaned had shown him lay at the end of the corridor. Could they spare an instant? Nevchaned and Hanamelk both had their voices raised. Singe clenched his teeth. “Where?”
A nasty cunning entered the young kalashtar’s expression. “Take me with you,” he said. “I’ll show you.”
Dandra’s eyebrows rose, and she glanced at Singe. Their spare instant was over-on the floor above, Mithas shouted down Nevchaned. “Get these old fools out of my way and find me that woman!”
The elders’ voices just grew sharper. Ashi drew a sharp breath. “Is that Mithas?”
“Yes. Nevchaned and Hanamelk are buying us time. We’re getting out of here.” Singe pushed past them all and went to the back door. Two stout bolts held it closed. He pulled them back and wrenched the door open. “Moon, you’re coming with us for now at least!”
He didn’t bother to look at Moon’s expression. Moon could have been staring holes in his back for all he cared. On the other side of the door, stairs dropped down into a well of flights and landings lit by everbright lanterns. He glanced over the rail. The bottom of the stairwell was a long way down. He clenched his teeth and prayed that no one would be coming up the other way, then waved the others through the door. “Come on! Hurry!”
Ashi passed him without a second glance, sheathing her sword as she moved. Dandra looked at him in a little surprise. “How did he find-?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Moon was the last through and looked at Singe with loathing. The wizard resisted the urge to punch the love-drunk youth, and closed the door behind himself. Maybe Mithas’s men wouldn’t think to check the door.
That hope lasted no longer than two turns down the stairs as the echoes of their racing boots filled the stairwell. The landings between the flights of stairs were lined with the doors of other apartments in the tower and people were beginning to open their doors to see what was happening outside. Singe had to dodge around a portly old dwarf as he stepped out from his apartment. Fortunately, the old man was faster than he looked, and he got back inside in time to avoid Ashi. Curses and shouts followed them. Periodic glances over the rail gave Singe a rough idea of their progress down the height of the tower. A third of the way down. Halfway-
Exclamations from high above joined the curses of the disturbed inhabitants. Mithas and his men had discovered their quarry’s escape. Singe, teeth bared against the exertion of running, allowed himself a taut smile. There was no way Mithas could catch them on the stairs. They’d be out of the tower and away onto the street before the sorcerer was even close. Maybe Mithas had realized that too. Or maybe he thought his tracking magic could find them again-Singe hoped that Hanamelk’s comment about confusing things was true. In any case, no footsteps followed them, and they approached the last few flights of stairs, Singe slowed. “We’re away,” he said. “They’re not chasing us.”
Dandra glared up at him. “They’re not chasing us because this is Sharn! Keep running!”
She didn’t slow-Singe increased his pace to keep up with her. They burst out of the doors of the tower and onto the street a few moments later. Heads turned briefly to stare at them. Singe looked at Dandra with curiosity, but the kalashtar had her face turned up toward the sky. He followed her gaze, but couldn’t tell what she was looking for. Dah’mir’s herons?
Then five forms launched themselves off the courtyard-roof of the great tower overhead. The energy that crackled around the soarsleds under their feet was dim in the afternoon sunlight, but the silver and blue of their Blademarks uniform jackets was bright. Soaring like birds, the figures arced out from the tower wall, then curved back and dived toward the street.
The crowd on the street scattered with cries of alarm. “Deneith claims its own!” screamed Mithas as he plunged down from above. “Stop the kalashtar first!”
The sorcerer hadn’t chased them through the tower because he’d known they’d come out the bottom-and because this was Sharn, he had a faster way to intercept them. Singe didn’t waste energy cursing. Options flashed through his head instead. They were all but alone on the rapidly clearing street, an easy target. Mounted on the soarsleds, the mercenaries could easily run them down if they tried to flee-the scattered crowd offered no concealment and the nearest cover was far along the street. If they ducked back into the tower, they’d be trapped. Mithas would just send men in from top and bottom to catch them in between. There was only one thing he could see to do, but at least it made the anger he felt toward Mithas burn with a joyful heat.
“Take them down!” he shouted. He thrust a hand toward the diving mercenaries and called out the words of a spell. A bolt of orange flame erupted from the air, streaking the sky with fire as it leaped for the men. Singe caught a glimpse of eyes that were suddenly wide and faces that were suddenly pale. The soarsleds curved away from one another, and the flame flashed through in empty space.
Exactly as he’d intended. Their charge broken, the mercenaries circled, trying to reorient themselves. “Scatter!” ordered Singe.
Dandra broke to the left, Ashi to the right. Singe stuck with Ashi, grabbing her hand as she reached to draw her sword once more. “No! No weapons-kill them and we’ll have the city guard after us.”
“Rond betch, what am I supposed to do then?” Above the scarf over her face, her eyes widened. “Moon!”
Singe whirled. The kalashtar still stood frozen in front of the tower doors. In the air overhead, one of the mercenaries had brought his soarsled to a halt. He had a shortbow in his hands, an arrow nocked and aimed at Moon. The head of the arrow was strangely blunt, but it shimmered with a strange amber energy that raised a chill on the back of Singe’s neck. He focused his will on the man, crooked his fingers, and hissed the words of the sleeping spell.