‘Galen …’ He was shuddering, breathless.

‘I know. They’re not following.’ The keeper dragged him to a dim corner and crouched, while Raffi drew long shuddering breaths, sick with fear, listening to Carys explain. She wasn’t afraid, he thought, bitterly. And yet he was the one with all the powers. All the defences.

‘Beggars,’ Galen said grimly. ‘Or worse. We must get further in. Right away from the gate. Then we can rest.’ He looked down at Raffi. ‘Can you walk?’

Ashamed, Raffi pulled upright. Without a word, Galen turned away.

They travelled down three long streets, then a network of narrow alleys where the rats scrabbled; across wide squares, empty and silent, where only a broken fountain trickled. Deep into the city Galen led them, without direction, looking only for somewhere safe. On each side the doorways were black and sinister. Broken shutters creaked. For Raffi it was a nightmare of weariness and pain; the darkness was foul and in it moved voices and ghosts that strained at his senses, and beyond them was the memory of some great disaster, a horror that seeped and smoked from the very walls and ruins.

Finally, Galen stopped. He searched among the shadows and found a small room in the back of a building; once a house, with a courtyard of black weeds. They searched the place twice and found no one, but Galen wouldn’t be satisfied until he had blocked the doorway the best he could with splintered wood. Then, without a fire or bothering to eat, they lay down and slept.

Deep below his ear, deep in the earth, Raffi felt the city smoulder and crackle.

Chapter 17

17

Many lies have been told about the fall of Tasceron. The truth is that whatever weapon of chaos the Order tried to use against us blew up in their faces. As will all their follies.

Rule of the Watch

Journal. Carys Arrin

Time unknown, Cyraxday(?)

18.16.546

It was a crazy plan. As soon as Galen came out with it, I knew we were bound to be caught, so I made sure I went first.

The Watchmen on the gate were thorough, and knew their job. I was out from under that waggon and dragged into the turret in seconds, and it took a great deal of argument to convince them who I was. I knew the passwords of course, the name of a Watchlord, and I have my agent’s insignia on a chain under my clothes. Still, I had to bribe them in the end. And I didn’t tell them who Galen was, just that I was working undercover with two spies, who should be allowed to think no one knew about them.

It worked; we’re in, and Galen and Raffi don’t know. And yet the gate-guards will have sold their knowledge on to someone higher, without doubt.