The confessor pulled back her hood. Straight black hair, pulled tight, tumbled out from within. Defiant grey eyes glowed in the torchlight.

Chel’s heart burst. ‘Sab!’

‘Hello, Brother Bear. I told you I’d be back for you, didn’t I?’

Rennic looked from one to the other. ‘Fuck me, this is your sister?’

‘Rennic, this is Sab—’

‘Don’t care. We need to get the fuck out of here. I assume you have a plan for what’s next, Chel’s sister?’

Sab nodded. ‘There’s a way out, while everyone’s distracted by the confession.’

‘Then let’s go.’

Sab looked around the dungeon, the barred cells stretching off either side of the hallway.

‘What about the others?’

Chel shook his head. ‘There are no others.’

‘Oh. I’m … I’m sorry. I came as soon as I could …’

‘You’re here now.’

The gaoler struggled in Rennic’s grip, and he clamped down with a growl.

‘Either of you got a knife?’

Tarfel wiped at his face, smudging his cold sweat with torch soot. ‘Can we just lock her away? The cell’s open.’

The gaoler struggled again, fighting against his grip, her muffled cries rising in pitch.

Rennic’s voice was grave-flat.

‘No.’

The muscles of his arm bulged like the gaoler’s eyes as he began to crush the life from her. Chel turned away, reaching out an instinctive arm to steer Sab with him, but she stood firm, expression fixed. He tugged at her shoulder.

‘Let’s go.’

‘I can take it.’

‘I’m sure you can, but we need to go, remember?’

She relaxed and turned with him, and he nodded to Tarfel to lead the way out.

‘Good to see you, highness.’

Tarfel sniffed, a small smile tweaking his mouth. His trembling had almost subsided. ‘How about a thank you?’

‘How about we get out of here first?’

Chel had his foot on the bottom step when he heard the sound, this time clear enough to make him pause. It was coming from the opposite end of the dungeon hallway, the darkened end, the end with the iron door. It sounded like a cry.

Rennic bumped into his back. ‘Get moving, fuck-stick.’

‘I think there’s someone in there.’

‘You can pity them later.’

Chel stepped back from the winding stairwell. He walked quickly to the iron door, Rennic’s exasperation at his back palpable, the weak light from the fading brazier picking out only the scores and divots from the shadows. A small, barred grille was cut from the door’s mass. From it, a pair of wide, frightened eyes peered, glimmering tearful.

‘Please?’

Chel stared into deep wells of the eyes, locked in pleading entreaty. The face was small, dark, dirty, young.

‘Who are you?’

‘Please?’

Chel yelled for the keys. ‘Fuck it, you’re coming with us.’

Rennic’s hand was rough on his shoulder, spinning him. Behind them, Sab’s approaching footsteps jingled.