There was no way back. The side streets were swarming with Vin Thalun, and besides, running that way would only delay the inevitable.

The tower gates were still open, a hundred paces up the road.

Only chance is to get through those gates.

He stared at Fidele a moment, the worry etched upon her features, moments from their journey flashing through his mind. Strangely, he found himself smiling, remembering snippets of conversation and silence.

I think you’re worth dying for. He knew making the gates was unlikely – just too many Vin Thalun in the way, and more arriving by the heartbeat.

Death is only ever a moment away.

‘What now?’ Fidele asked.

I carve us a way to those gates, or die trying.

‘Stay behind me,’ he grunted, stepping in front of her.

The first men saw him too late, his knives bringing sudden death upon them. In a dozen heartbeats three Vin Thalun were dead, another slumped upon the ground, bleeding out from a deep gash in his groin.

Maquin pressed forward, felt Fidele behind him, knew she would have her knife in her hand.

The Vin Thalun saw him coming now, a handful moving on him together, spreading into a half-circle.