Wading through mucky water slowed his progress, but with Sapphire's blue velvet gown soaked, it would slow her as well. He traveled more quickly than she would, and yet neither saw nor sensed her. Perhaps he'd chosen the wrong way? Was she foolish enough to head upslope to the inner ring?
When he turned about to reconsider, there was torchlight down the tunnel behind him.
Sapphire wasn't carrying a torch.
Had the hound led the half-blood to the cellar? That beast had tracked Rashed straight to the warehouse back in Miiska. It made sickening sense. He tensed, caught between fear and anger.
Leesil, with his cursed luck, was onto him.
Toret fled along the tunnel, searching for a place to lie in wait. If he was to escape this time, he had to make sure no one could track him again.
He would see that hound rot with the refuse beneath the city.
Chap jumped from Toret's cellar and landed with a splash in the center of the sewer.
"Which way?" Leesil asked.
The hound growled and headed southward against the flow of water. Leesil hopped down, the stench assaulting his nose. Beneath the smell of waste was the distinct odor of brine. He shifted the sack with Sapphire's head to the back of his belt, and quickly followed Chap.
Ratboy wouldn't leave this city-at least not in one piece.
The fine white hairs on Leesil's neck prickled with the strange sensation of being watched. He looked behind, holding the torch out. The light revealed only dank walls and slow-running water. He tried putting the torch behind himself, so his half-elven eyes could sift more easily through the shadows, but he saw nothing.
Chap waded onward, and Leesil followed again, each passing moment a sharp edge sliding across his nerves.
And still they moved on, approaching numerous intersecting tunnels. Each time, he called Chap back long enough to check them carefully. When the way was clear, he let Chap lead again, watching to see if the hound turned. But the dog continued straight south, even at the occasional wider flow ways leading down toward the bay.
After a while, Leesil wondered if Chap truly followed a trail. Magiere's topaz, hanging about his neck, glowed with only a dim aura. There was an undead down here, but they weren't gaining any ground. How could Chap track Ratboy through running water?
Ahead, the tunnel floor slanted sharply upward beyond a wide archway. As he came closer, he spotted a line of jagged points along the opening's top edge and a matching archway at the top of the slope. Raised stone walkways lined both sides of the rise, and Leesil could hear the continuous splash of running water from somewhere above. Chap passed through, working his way up, and a yellow shimmer reflected off the dank walls around Leesil. He looked down.
The topaz brightened right before his eyes.
"Chap, come back!" Leesil called.
A rattle of chains echoed down the rising passage, and the archway's spikes descended rapidly toward Leesil's head. He lurched back in reflex.
Leesil thought he glimpsed a flickering shape roll under the iron gate's edge just before it splashed into the water, and then a spray of salt water made him shield his face. Up-slope, Chap broke into battle cry, and the eerie wail echoed through the sewers.
Holding his torch high, Leesil peered through the gate up the passage. Past the upper archway, the floor leveled off out of sight in a large, round chamber. He couldn't see if there were other entrances or passages leading into it. Chap's snarl sounded from above, but the hound was beyond view over the slope's top lip.
A familiar voice echoed down to him.
"Too bad the gate missed you." Ratboy's high-pitched laugh rolled along the walls. "But now you get to watch me slaughter your beast, and you'll never track us again."
"Chap, come back to the gate!" Leesil shouted, but he already heard the splashing of feet in shallow water and knew Ratboy was closing.
Chap was a born tracker and fighter, like the bear hounds of the Warlands, bred by petty lords and tyrants for hunting mountain bears. Those hounds would go to any length to track their prey and threw themselves headlong into battle if not controlled. Many died on their first hunt. Chap was even more willful than those mere beasts.
The gate was here for a reason, though Leesil couldn't fathom why. Deeper inside the sewers, it had been overlooked by the city guard when they sealed the outer spillways. He looked about for a way to open it but only spotted brackets on the walls to either side. Jamming his torch into one, he gripped the gate with both hands and strained to lift it. The barrier wouldn't budge.
Chap's snarl grew loud again amidst a flurry of splashes.
"Leave him," Leesil shouted. "Back away to me."
Even if Chap did as he commanded, Ratboy wouldn't abandon this chance to kill the hound.
A flicker of shadow across the upper archway made Leesil pause from straining at the gate. The chamber's darkness above was too severe even for his eyes. He snatched the torch and threw it through the gate onto the left walkway, as far up as he could. Framed in the upper archway was the capering figure of Ratboy maneuvering around Chap, the hound's silvery coat tinged to gold in the torchlight.
Ratboy dodged and swung down with a thick short sword, barely missing Chap's neck.
"Valhachkasej'a!" Leesil cursed, wishing he'd grabbed Vatz's crossbow before the boy had left.
Chap dashed inside Ratboy's guard. Spinning around behind, the hound snapped teeth along the back of Ratboy's knee. The undead cried out but turned with the dog and kicked out hard, catching Chap in the side. The hound tumbled back out of sight with a cascade of splashes.
Snarling, Ratboy faced into the chamber with sword raised.
Leesil drew his right blade and chopped down on the gate's crossbars. Steel clanged against iron, leaving only a minor gash.
Ratboy glanced toward him, sharp teeth bared in a sneer, and then turned back to Chap. Leesil struck the gate again and again, but Ratboy gave no more notice.
From beyond the upper archway's right side, a silvery flutter skimmed through the air.
Ratboy's head snapped sideways as he staggered. He righted himself and reached up with his free hand.
A stiletto of bright metal protruded from the base of his neck.
Leesil stopped his assault, lost in confusion. He'd have done that himself if he'd thought it would do any good.
"Stop," a smooth, lilting voice ordered.
The echo from the upper chamber made it impossible for Leesil to tell where the voice came from. A gray specter slid forward into view.
Standing to the upper archway's right was a gray-clad figure, cowl up and cloak corners tied around its waist. Coiled between the fingers of its left fist was a silvery wire glinting in the torchlight. It was like the garrote in Leesil's own toolbox, and recognition filled him.
This was the anmaglahk from the previous night.
The elf had followed him and must have been the shadow he'd glimpsed slipping under the gate before it closed. The stiletto had been nothing more than a ploy to gain Ratboy's attention.
"What's this?" Ratboy uttered, as he slid the stained blade from his neck. "A new playmate?"
"You are not my concern," the elf said calmly. "Leave the hound."
At those words, Ratboy appeared uncertain, but Leesil couldn't believe what he was hearing. He unsheathed his second blade.
"Kill him!" he yelled at the elf. "Fire or decapitation is the only way."
The elf gave him no notice. His cowled head turned toward the back of the chamber as he said, "Please, stand with me."
Chap came into view as he circled in to stand a pace or two back on the elf's side of the archway. The man looked to the hound, holding his hands open to his sides, and said something in Elvish that Leesil couldn't follow.