She stepped through and came face to face with a grot. Romilla swung her hammer more by instinct than conscious thought, and it connected with the greenskin’s skull. At the same instant she felt an icy pain in her side. The grot crumpled, leaving its six-inch shiv embedded in Romilla’s ribs.

‘Damn,’ she gasped, pressing a hand to the wound and feeling blood well through her fingers. The others were right behind her, and she felt their confusion and panic at finding her stood frozen over a fallen grot in the shop’s back hallway.

Move, Romilla told herself. Hurt later.

She mounted the stairs to the first floor, keeping one hand pressed hard to her wound as she went. She could feel blood dribbling down her side, and a cold, tugging pain shot through her with every step. Still, Romilla kept moving until they stood below the hatchway that led up into the attic. Only then did she lean against the wall and rummage in her bag for a healing compress.

‘Who’s bleeding?’ asked Aelyn as she joined them. ‘There’s a trail up the stairs that they won’t struggle to follow.’

‘That would be me,’ said Romilla through gritted teeth.

Aelyn moved wordlessly to her side and, while Romilla held the poultice in place, the aelf swiftly wound bandages around her midriff until the wound was properly bound. The watchmen guarded the stairs nervously, halberds at the ready.

‘This will have to do,’ said Romilla, checking that the bandages were tied off to her satisfaction. ‘Idiot.’

‘Just unlucky,’ said Aelyn. ‘Thackeray, how do we get up?’

‘There used to be a ladder,’ said the watchman, casting about with obvious agitation. Below, they heard the scuff of movement. Something broke with a smash. A cruel voice cackled. Then came a cry from the hallway. Someone had found the body.

‘No time,’ said Romilla. ‘Boost me up.’

Aelyn knelt, making a stirrup of her hands. Romilla ignored the pain in her side as the aelf pushed up with inhuman strength and propelled her into the open hatchway. Romilla grabbed hold of the dusty boards and hauled, biting down on a scream as her wounded side ground against the lip of the hatch. She dragged herself onto the attic’s part-boarded floor. Aelyn followed, springing straight up through the hole with remarkable grace and agility. The two of them lay on their stomachs by the hatch and lowered their arms through.

‘Come on,’ Romilla hissed. ‘We’ll pull you up!’

Thackeray came first, gripping their wrists as they gripped his and dragged him up to safety. Romilla reached down again, stifling a groan of pain. She could hear angry shrieks and jabbering cries from the shop’s ground floor, then the thump of footfalls on the stairs.

‘Sigmar, hurry!’ Romilla hissed as the female watchman grabbed their arms and was hauled up.