Ferro fumbled at the old iron, air hissing between her teeth, fingers slow and weak from the cold. Ninefingers came up beside her and planted his hands next to hers—four hands in a row, two dark and two pale, clamped tight and straining. They were pressed against each other in the narrow space and she heard him grunting with effort, heard the rushing of her own breath, felt the ancient metal beginning to bend, squealing softly.

Far enough for her to slither between.

She pushed her bow, and quiver, and sword through first, holding them up in one hand. She hooked her head between the bars, turning sideways, sucking in her stomach and holding her breath, wriggling her shoulders, then her chest, then her hips through the narrow gap, feeling the rough metal scraping at her skin through her wet clothes.

She dragged herself onto the other side, tossing her weapons onto the bank. She braced her shoulders in the archway and planted her boots against the next bar, every muscle straining while Ninefingers dragged on it from the other side. It gave all of a sudden, snapping in half and showering flakes of rust into the stream, dumping her on her back, over her head in the freezing water.

Ninefingers started to haul himself through, face twisted with effort. Ferro floundered up, gasping with the cold, grabbed him under the arms and started pulling, felt his hands grip round her back. She grunted and wrestled and finally dragged him out. They flopped together onto the muddy bank and lay there, side by side. Ferro stared up at the crumbling walls of the ruined city rising sheer above her in the grey dusk, breathing hard and listening to Ninefingers do the same. She had not expected to get out of that place alive.

But they were not away quite yet.

She rolled and clambered up, dripping wet and trying to stop herself shivering. She wondered if she had ever been so cold in her whole life.

'That's it,' she heard Ninefingers muttering. 'By the fucking dead, that's it. I'm done. I'm not moving another stride.'

Ferro shook her head. 'We need to make some distance while we still have light.' She snatched up her weapons from the dirt.

'You call this light? Are you fucking crazy, woman?'

'You know I am. Let's go, pink.' And she poked him in the ribs with her wet boot.

'Alright, damn it! Alright!' He stumbled reluctantly up, swaying, and she turned, started to walk up the bank through the twilight, away from the walls.

'What did I do?' She turned and looked at him, standing there, wet hair dripping round his face. 'What did I do, back there?'

'You got us through.'

'I meant—'

'You got us through. That's all.' And she slogged off up the bank. After a moment she heard Ninefingers following.