Adare glanced over her shoulder. Willet had his eyes fixed on Lehav, but Orren was looking straight at her, the gash of his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. The soldier and his callous indifference frightened her, but he, at least, had shown no desire to do her harm. There were no guardsmen on the narrow street, no saviors. If she couldn’t convince Lehav to help her, there would be no help. The man knew the canal rats, but he wasn’t friends with them, that much was clear. If she could only figure out where to drive the wedge. Her mind scrambled, her thoughts numb and clumsy with fear.

“That’s right, Lehav,” Willet was saying. “You don’t wanna be wastin’ your time down here jawin’ with the likes of us. You got outta this shit trap, remember?”

The soldier shook his head. “Sometimes I’m not sure.” He pursed his lips, glanced at the muddy road, the rotting boards facing the buildings, the thin strip of sky. “This whole city is rotten,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “This whole empire.” After a long pause he shook his head again and turned away. “So long, Willet. Orren.”

Adare’s heart seized. Her tongue felt like leather in her mouth.

Willet smiled a wide grin, obviously relieved. “See ya someday, Lehav.”

“No, you won’t,” the soldier replied.

And then, as when a scattering of individual stones on the ko board resolved themselves into a pattern, Adare understood: a soldier, a “purer cause,” someone who got out, who wasn’t coming back, a man with a sword on his hip but a large pack on his back.

“Please,” she blurted desperately, “in Intarra’s name, I’m begging you.”

Once again Lehav stopped, turned, fixed her with an unreadable stare.

“What is the goddess to you?”

Yes, Adare thought inwardly, relief and triumph flooding her. It wasn’t done yet, but she could see the path.

“She is the light that guides me,” she began, intoning an old prayer, “the fire that warms my face, a spark in the darkness.”

“Is she.” The soldier’s voice was flat.

“I’m a pilgrim,” Adare insisted. “I’m going now, to the Temple of Light, to join the pilgrimage. I’m leaving Annur for Olon.”

Willet shifted uncomfortably at her side. “Don’t worry about it, Lehav.”

The soldier frowned. “I think I might worry about it, in fact.” He turned to Adare once more. “You don’t wear a pilgrim’s robes.”

“Neither do you,” she pointed out. “I’m going to buy them. Today. On the Godsway.”

“She’s lyin’,” Orren snarled. “The bitch is lyin’. She’s got nuthin’. No pack. Nuthin’.”

Now that Adare was into the lie the words tumbled from her lips.

“I couldn’t bring anything, not without my family knowing. I had to sneak out in the night.”