“Oak, did your cousin tell you any other ways out of here besides the front gate?”
Everyone quieted. Downstairs, metal screeched, a violent sound that grated on the nerves.
Oak frowned. “Orwen never mentioned another exit, and I never really asked. He mainly talked about all the loonies locked up in this place.”
“This is a waste of time,” someone muttered.
“What about the roof?” Caim asked.
In his head he was trying to devise a way to get a dozen people, some of them injured, across the rooftop and down six stories of sheer stone wall. Maybe if they tied blankets together for a makeshift rope
…
“Nah,” Oak answered.
“I didn’t see any hatches above,” Caim admitted. “And the windows are too narrow to fit through.”
“Wait,” Keegan said.
“What if we make ourselves up like guards?” a man ventured. “Uniforms and such. Maybe we could-”
“Walk out the door as easy as that?” another finished for him. “You’re crazy. They’d sniff us out sure as-”
“Wait!” Keegan shouted.
“What?” Caim asked.
“If we can’t go out the front and we can’t go up, what about down?”
“How’s that?” Ramon asked. “We going to turn ourselves into moles and dig our way out? You’re as daft as a-”
“What do you mean?” Caim asked.
The boy’s face had turned bright red under the scrutiny of his fellows. “Well, there’s tunnels all beneath the city, right?”
“You mean the sewer tunnels.”
Keegan nodded. “Exactly. A building like this is probably connected to those tunnels.”
Caim ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, tasting blood. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard so far. Everyone downstairs. Find an access to the sewers and we might get out of this alive.”
The bulk of the outlaws returned from above, bloodied and exhausted, and Ramon rushed them down the steps. Caim helped Keegan carry Liana. Seeing her unconscious reminded Caim of when he’d carried Josey to his apartment from her foster father’s manor. Both were strong, independent women and fiercely attractive. Navigating the gore-slick stairs, Caim shook as the energy that had flowed through him during the short battle drained away, leaving him ragged and worn out. But it wasn’t as bad as the debilitating spells he used to suffer after encounters with his powers, for which he was grateful. The last thing he needed was to swoon at the feet of these men just when they were starting to listen to him.
They reached the ground floor to the sound of distant clanging-the soldiers outside hammering at the portcullis. A few outlaws peered through the archway looking toward the atrium. They held their weapons nervously, but Caim saw something new in their expressions, a grimness he hadn’t seen before. About time. Where was this when we were running for our lives through the city streets?
Oak came hurrying up and gestured for Caim to follow. Caim helped Keegan settle Liana on the floor, spoke a couple words of hope, and went after the man. Oak took him down the stairs into the bowels of the prison. They stopped at a narrow landing thirty feet under the foundation. The steps continued downward, but Oak opened a door set in the corner of the landing to reveal a short tunnel. The moist odor of garbage emerged.
“Have you explored it?” Caim asked.
“A bit. There’s a tunnel running below us. I sent Billup and Fralk to take a look.”
“Good. Get everyone down there. Head downstream, out of the city.”
Caim went back up and found Keegan. His look of concern had worsened. Liana’s eyes were still closed.
Caim hunkered down beside them. “We found a way out.”
“We need to get her home to my father.”
“We will. You have my word.”
Caim moved to Liana’s feet in preparation to move her. The rest of the men had vacated the stairwell, taking Caedman with them toward the sewer entrance. Things were looking hopeful, but something bothered Caim. The feeling of dread had not disappeared. He had forgotten about it during the fight, but now, in the interim, it had returned in full force. They weren’t out of danger yet.
A loud rattle echoed from the corridor. Scenarios played out in Caim’s mind. None of them ended well. One ended less badly than the others, but it was the one he was most hesitant to attempt. It had been a long time, and he wasn’t sure he was up to it. What choice do I have?
“Go,” he growled at Keegan.
The boy rose to his knees. “What?”
Caim jerked his head after the direction the rest of the outlaws had taken. “Get them out of here. I’ll bring your sister.”
“Are you-?”
“Get!”
The youth glanced from him to his sister. A loud crash resounded from the front gate, followed by heavy boot steps. The enemy was inside the prison. With one last look at Caim, Keegan ran after the others.
Caim stood over Liana. Keegan had arranged her arms across her chest, perhaps unconsciously mimicking the pose of death. But she would survive. Caim would be damned if he didn’t see to that. Of them all, she most deserved to live. Just get on with it. Setting his jaws together in a firm grimace, Caim went to the archway to face the enemy.
The soldiers came at him en masse, two score and change. A crossbow bolt sizzled past his head. The points of their spears and swords glittered in the torchlight.
They didn’t stand a chance.
The shadows arrived in numbers he’d never seen before, raining down from the ceiling in an ebon deluge. Torches fizzled out, but Caim saw what happened all too well. He forced himself to watch as the men fell, in clusters of five and ten, succumbing to the crowd of ravenous blots climbing down their faces, crawling inside their armor to devour warm flesh. Not a single soldier made it to the end of the hall.
Gnawing on the evil he had wrought, Caim gathered the girl in his arms. A sharp pain erupted in his right arm as he lifted her, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He went over to a sweep of shadows draped beneath the staircase. He wasn’t sure how this was going to work. In the end, it took less effort than he anticipated.
One moment he stood on a solid floor. Then he took a step, and a tempest of unfamiliar forces lifted him into oblivion.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The world righted itself as Sybelle stepped out of the shadow gate and touched down on the cavern floor. She plucked at her sleeves and brushed the front of her gown, seeking out the insidious little deaths, but finding nothing.
How dare he?
The indignity burned in her breast. The upstart-scion or no-had sent his shadows against her. In her birth world, none would have dared such an insult. She hadn’t expected it, and that had almost spelled her doom as hundreds of the tiny predators swarmed over her. Their bites stung, nothing serious, but only quick action had saved her from worse. Of course, she had left Erric’s men behind to deal with the threat.
But the scion…
Sybelle went to the orichalcum box and breathed in a double pinch of the yellow resin. The jolt of instant energy washed away her exhaustion, but it did nothing to relieve her aggravation. She shook the box, debating another dose, but the powder was all but gone and there was no way to garner more; the plant from which it came only grew in the Shadowlands.
She shoved the box back onto its shelf, unable to get the events at the prison out of her head. She had known
