The skirmish flowed down the street, passing by the gates outside as Kesh gripped his sword so tightly he was shaking. Then the melee moved on; the noise reached a pitch close by and abruptly subsided.

The sergeant exhaled. He spoke to his guards in the local language; Kesh was too rattled to catch more than a word here and there. Foreigners. Market. Fire. Traitors to the emperor.

Kesh sidled sideways, trying to get a look through the open door into the guardhouse. He was pretty sure it snaked through the compound wall because there was another opening for the guard unit street side. The guards watched both ways, keeping locals out and foreigners in.

A muffled shout caused Kesh to jump away from the gate to the far wall. As though slapped by a giant hand, the gates shuddered. Frantic voices called from inside the guardhouse. The sergeant swore, signaled to his men, and bolted inside. The last guard swung the door shut behind him, and at first Kesh just stood there as a struggle erupted within. Then merchants came running from the courtyard, babbling and questioning, and Kesh shoved past them and ran to his own cell, where Eliar waited by the door.

“What do we do?” Eliar demanded.

“The hells if I know. These gods-rotted empire laws have us caged like beasts, not a chance to get in or out nor anywhere to hide or escape to. Curse them. Maybe we can get out over the roofs.”

Eliar reached past him and slammed shut the door. “I tried that!”

“You got up on the roof?”

“I did. You think I’m useless, but I’ve had plenty of practice getting in and out of tight places in Olossi. My friends and I, we smuggled goods over the river.”

Outside, merchants shouted, “Block the gate!” “Block the guardhouse door!”

Kesh began to laugh, because there wasn’t anything else to find funny in their situation. “The hells! Were you part of that gang the Greater Houses were constantly chasing?”

He couldn’t see Eliar’s face; inside the chamber, there was no light. But he felt the sting of a smile as though he could touch it. “I was. I mean, I am.”

“Aui! So when in the hells did you get up on the roof?”

“One night when you were sleeping. I used rope tied around the lamp brackets. But I didn’t try to get farther. There’s a walkway around the entire roof. They patrol it all night. Keeping us in, or others out.”

“Or both. Grab some rope. And whatever you can carry that’s too valuable to leave behind.”

“How will we get out of the city? If they capture us breaking curfew, walking where we’re not allowed—”