Shouts followed them to the Orchards Bridge, which abruptly stopped when the annoyed people realized that mechanical beings, not horses, had brushed past them. The rest was a blur of heavy fog and Chiddle leaping to avoid running someone over. She clutched his waist, squeezed her eyes shut, and hoped her knees kept her on his back. Without Tuft’s handy ice, slipping and sliding could land her in a snowbank, or worse.
City guards had closed the metal gates at the crossing and stood behind them, holding tech and glaring at the people standing in long lines, yelling at them for the delay. The khentauree did not slow down, and the guards dove out of the way as they leapt the chest-high barrier; the top railing proved no obstacle for the taller beings.
“Path says Dachs has blockaded the Eaves,” Chiddle said as they raced across the empty bridge. “Many people hide within, and Mint patrols. She declares them safe and now heads for the Lells with Tia.”
If Mint made a few loops, she doubted anyone except the regulars would tread near. “How many rats are there?”
“Many. The weather is still too cold for selling, so the rats have congregated around the reading table, but Path says Lyet, Scand and Brone went early to help a merchant with a shipment.”
Lapis sucked in a breath. Most of the stall sellers, when they received a large order, paid trusted rats to help load a wagon and move the stuff into the Lells warehouse. Considering the lack of crowds due to the freeze, and the lack of money as a result, several of the kids would have volunteered. Rik might be there, if they rented his wagon for the morning. Megan was good with kids, so he was the primary courier choice among merchants there.
And if Maydie and Movique decided to set up a warm breakfast for the helpers? Those spreads usually attracted both Grey and Stone Street rats, and as long as they lifted at least one thing into the wagon, however small, they received a hot meal and drink.
The fog sat thick above the river, making visuals more than a few khentauree strides ahead impossible. Even the clop clop of hooves seemed faded and distant, though the sound echoed from right below her.
The guards manning the next gate fared little better at stopping them, and the frustrated workers demanding access to the bridge yelped and scurried out of the way. They raced through them and into the Orchards streets beyond.
The frosty morning kept most indoors, but a few people were out, baskets in hand, wrapped up in their End-Year warmest. Too quickly those intrepid souls disappeared, and the roads became empty. The Lells was still streets away, and Lapis worried about it. Had the fighting spread this far? The Grey Streets did not deserve slaughter because a Taangin saw the fall of Gall as an invitation to cause problems.
Chiddle rotated his head around. “Path and Tia are at the Lells. They say the battle has destroyed the stalls and many storefronts, exposing those inside to stray fire. They are with Tamor and Minq comms, who direct the fight. She says she recognizes Gredy’s mercenaries.”
Lapis hissed. “Gredy’s there?”
“She has not seen him, but his men fight with the blue deer mercenaries. There is discontent, and the blue deer yell at them. They laugh and ignore commands, looting more than fighting.”
That did not surprise her.
“What about the janks?” Patch asked.
“They remain in side streets, interrogating the captured.”
Lapis glanced at her partner. “What do you want to do?”
“Meet up with Tamor, get filled in. Then we’ll see what I can hit.”
“That don’t look like no weapon I’ve ever seen,” Rin said, dubious.
“It’s a special one the Minq gave to me before we went back to find Lanth, Faelan and Tuft. Lucky us, it won’t run out of power. Can’t say the same for the enemy’s aquatheerdaal tech.” He jerked his chin at the rat. “Rin, you do as we tell you. This isn’t the time to go off on your own. We need a coordinated effort, or someone we care about might get killed.”
He made an unhappy noise, and Lapis elbowed him. “I knows, Lanth,” he muttered, rubbing at his waist. “I gets it.”
“If you want to stay my apprentice, you better.”
He stiffened enough, she knew he hated the words, but Dentherion-trained agents and mercenaries who did not care who they slaughtered were deadly enemies.
“Hold tight.”
Chiddle’s warning came a breath before he leapt to the top of a wall. Lapis tightened her arms around his waist and squeezed her knees into his barrel; Rin slid with a startled curse and clutched her close. The khentauree bounded to the roof of the building next to them, galloped to the edge, and did not slow before sailing across the alley. He landed lightly and raced between smoky chimneys and random roof detail covered in ice and snow.
Screams and the discharge of weapons echoed up through the white clouds. Fear snagged her heart; how many people got caught between the Minq and the enemy? How many sellers had fallen? How many customers? How many rats?
Chiddle soared to a spire on the Second God’s single-story Grey Streets temple, and ran across the slanted tiles without mishap. Beyond the temple, the roofs evened out, all relatively the same height, with the same width of alley gaps. Boards ran between, which the khentauree ignored in favor of long jumps.
“Path is blocked in,” Chiddle said, loud enough Patch could hear. “She and Tia are with rats and merchants, and she is afraid the enemy will harm Tia to get to them.”
“I thought they were with the Minq,” Lapis said.
“They were. They offered to guide a group from the Lells to Coin Street. There are other taverns besides the Eaves opening their commons as safehouses. Ruddy’s is hiding many in the basement.”
That shocked her. The owner must feel indebted to do such a thing. Or, maybe, he saw it as a way to get back at Dentheria for shooting up his bar.
“We will go faster,” Dov said. “Hold tight.”
Other than on her uncle’s Swift, she had not traveled so fast in her life. Refusing to ponder what would happen to her body if she fell, she clutched Chiddle and hoped Rin kept his grip on her while they ran, bounced, slid, and careened around rooftop obstacles. She closed her eyes and hoped that fate, upset at her luck, did not play with her that day.
“Get ready,” Chiddle said. She opened her eyes and wished she had not; he soared down, planted his hooves on the adjacent building’s stone brick wall, and jumped to the other side. One more cross, and he hit a wide walkway in front of Tia.
The south-west Lells had several paths that ended in round courtyards with marble benches and the remains of stone pergolas, attesting to the area’s once-noble occupants. The terron blocked access to one such courtyard, and Lapis glimpsed terrified rats and Lells sellers behind her. Path stood in front of them, arms out, a protector even if she were not a guard or fighter. Tia’s girth kept a group of six blue deer mercs at bay, with a jank behind them wearing a comms headset and a black trench coat.
“Fire!” the jank yelled.
So Chiddle and Dov did.
The shocked mercs, unable to react faster than the mechanical beings, fell in sprays of blood. One, with a bleeding arm, turned and plowed over the jank in his haste to vacate. Dov leapt after him as Chiddle lunged at the jank, who slapped her hand on the wall and used it as an aid to rise. Lapis did not have to study the others to know they no longer lived; the red staining the trampled snow was testament enough.
The khentauree bumped the woman before she stood up, and she went down on the slick paving stones. She flipped over and scrambled away on her hands and knees, but he put his hoof in her upper back, and all movement ceased. She gasped and whined, swatting at his leg, a weak effort to move a heavy body.
“Retrieve their weapons,” Chiddle said. She and Rin slid from his back and did as he asked, though her tummy churned as she tugged the bloody tech from limp fingers. She hated this, hated the blood, hated the rich who had nothing better to do than send bought mercenaries to terrorize the less fortunate. Could they not donate to charities or find some other worthwhile thing to do with their riches?
She was tired of the nightmares she suffered because of their ill deeds.
“Tia, you OK?” Lapis asked. The terron looked uninjured, but wore form-fitting wool that covered everything but her nose. That might hide an injury. She nodded and signed; Rin nudged her.
“She’s sayin’ they’d only threatened ‘m, and didn’t shoot. Don’t know why, but finds it odd.”
“It is odd. Something’s up. Hopefully that jank knows.” She held the weapons out so she did not get fresh blood on her coat and strode into the courtyard. Path no longer stood as protector, but helped get those stiff from crouching to their feet. “Get to the Eaves as fast as you can, and Dachs can send you on from there,” she said. Several sellers focused on her, and she hefted the weapons. “And you’ll be armed.”
“We don’t know how to use those.” The alarmed speaker was a wealthier seller and worked from a rental shop in the nicest building on Pinkstone Square. She, like most of the Grey Streets, had little to no experience with tech, and no want to change that.
“I didn’t either,” Lapis admitted. “But I was told to point and pull the trigger. You don’t have to hit anyone, just make them scared enough to hide rather than return fire.”
Nilas slipped around the cowering shopkeeps. “I’ll take one,” he said. Heran followed, holding out her hands. Why was it, the rats she least trusted ended up always being there when she needed someone to do something? It did not matter; she could not escort the group to their target tavern, and if they wanted to do guard duty, so be it. Two women and a man took the other three from Rin, grim, determined.
“Path told us about the janks and mercs, but did any of you see something beyond that?” Lapis asked, grabbing handfuls of untrampled snow and scrubbing her gloves.
The woman who manned a drink stand near Fished Out shook her head. “I’s not gotten t’ the stand yet, ‘n them comes outta them Overroute tunnels, fightin’ Minq. How’d they get in? Minq keep ‘m guarded.”
“Janks,” Lapis said. “They were in the tunnels last night. I thought they were after the Minq, but they may have planned to meet with the mercs instead.”
“Path said that ‘shroud crashed,” Heran said, her voice trembling.
“It did.” Lapis glanced over the group; no one looked injured, a boon. “Be ready; we don’t know how the city’s going to react when the fog clears and they get a good look at Green Castle.”
“It’s bad?”
“Multiple explosions, and the ‘shroud fell on the palace.”
The shocked gasps annoyed her, but they had also not fled for their lives as the vessel was sliding over their heads. She knew, too intimately, what occurred.
“The king?” the drink seller whispered.
She shook her head. “He was planning on executing rebels and Rams this morn. He was there.” She threw the red-stained snow to the ground, refusing to say more about his flight. “When you get there, tell Dachs the ‘shroud crashed. He’ll know how to prepare.”
She heard crying, but did not have time to soothe the fear. Clapping both Nilas and Heran on their shoulders, she returned to Chiddle and Tia while Rin gave those brave enough to carry a tech weapon a cursory explanation of point-and-shoot. He had paid more attention to the Abastion rebels’ training than she thought.
“I don’t know,” the jank whimpered as she padded up, her terrified gaze on the terron nose blowing heated air into her face. Her headset lay in the show beyond her reach, broken in three pieces, and by her choked words, the pressure from Chiddle’s hoof made breathing difficult. “I was told to go with the mercenaries and ask around for . . . for people like you.”
How nicely she put it. “People like Chiddle?”
When she did not respond, Chiddle dug his hoof in deeper. “Who told you that?” The thick buzz in his voice made him sound harsh, unfeeling.
“Lieutenant Medin. I—I don’t think he’s taking orders from the empire anymore.” Tears landed in the snow, making watery splashes that melted to the underlying pavers. “Some of us protested because we’re here to find the kidnapped heir.”
“You really believe that?” Lapis asked.
“I . . .” She snuffled. “I don’t know.”
“Hmm. I think your superior knows exactly what happened to the heir and his mother, and it wasn’t a ‘shroud crash.” She looked at the empty walkway. “Chiddle, did Dov catch the merc?”
“Yes. They reached conflict, and Patch is fighting.”
Dammit. Before she gathered her thoughts, Tia signed.
“Yes,” Chiddle said, removing his hoof. “I don’t think she will struggle much. You may bite her head off if she does.”
Tia would not bite her head off, but the jank thought the threat serious; her eyes and mouth widened in abject terror. So be it. The terron signed, and Chiddle nodded.
“That is wise. They will need your protection. Return quickly; Dov is not confident of Minq success. We all must help.”
Lapis took off her scarf and wrapped it around the jank’s eyes, blocking sight. Rin trotted up and handed her a roll of shipping twine, and she tied the woman’s hands and elbows behind her back. She cried out in pain, and while that probably did hurt, they could not risk her getting away. Tia rumbled in laughter, and the jank whimpered, stressed.
“See you soon,” she whispered. Chiddle helped her and Rin mount, then took off in a flurry of snow.
