He hesitates, but escorting me after dark is one of his duties.When we get to the hospital, I tell him I will be a few hours and ask him to wait outside.

The hospital looks even gloomier after sundown. The front room is lit by a lamp barely bright enough to cast shadows. Jesmin has likely gone home and left one or two of his helpers to tend the sicker patients overnight. None of them are in sight though, and I don’t go looking for them. The less attention I draw, the better. I change a few blankets and bedpans and help a few patients with water.

All too soon, it’s time to go. I check once more to make sure no one’s in dire need of care, and then glance out the window to make sure my soldier escort is still waiting. Then I head to the back corridor and the door that leads out the other side of the building.

The first thing I notice is how dark it is. It must have been equally dark coming here with my escort, but the shadows are pronounced now that I’m alone. The paths are empty, though it’s by no means quiet. Voices drift past me, some loud, some soft. The walls of the houses are so thin, it’s hard to tell which sounds are inside and which ones are from people out on the streets. My blowgun knocks against my knees as I walk, and I find myself wishing for a harness like Dineas has for his swords.

I make it a good distance from the hospital with no sign of anyone following me, but then I hear the footsteps of a large crowd. A group of ten people turn onto the path in front of me. Some are young, some are old—all carry weapons. An older woman limps at their front, giving orders.

“The beggars are holding back their earnings,” she says. “See if they’ll be more honest with persuasion.”

There’s something in her voice that stops me cold—it’s the same feeling I get when I see a snake an arm’s length away. I take a slow step back, wondering how best to leave without attracting attention, when the woman looks straight at me.

“Who is that?” she asks the man next to her. “Get her.”

I turn on my heel and run, fleeing down the nearest side alley. I wedge myself in the narrow space between two houses, my blowgun clattering against the wall as I raise it and reach for my darts. Shadows darken the alley as men run past. I hold my blowgun steady, staring so hard at the opening to my hiding place that it starts to blur in my vision.

Long moments pass. The sounds of pursuit grow softer. The woman’s voice fades into the distance.