Despite the slight bend in the shaft, the key did its job. After a few fumbling moments, Darrow let Feena into the baiting pit before releasing Maelin.
The cleric channeled the last of her power into healing Talbot's burns. The worst of them had vanished, but he still appeared groggy and weak. His burned hair stank worse than the foul odor left by the demise of Stannis Malveen.
'You're free,' he told her as he opened her cell door. He mustered a weak smile, wondering whether she would throw herself into his arms or simply weep with gratitude.
She did neither. Instead, she moved into the hall, making every effort not to touch him as she slipped by. He followed her into the baiting pit. There, Maelin stood behind Feena, who knelt beside Talbot.
'Get Radu,' said Tal. 'Make sure he's alive. We need the Scepters to get the truth out of him.'
Darrow turned to obey. First he would throw that sword into the pit, and-
But Radu Malveen was gone. Darrow searched for some trail in the sand, but there was none. He peered into the dark pit, but there was nothing but darkness as far as he could see.
'Where in the Nine Hells did he go?' thundered Talbot.
'I-I don't know,' said Darrow, staring into the fanged pit.
'Where does that hole go?'
' 'Somewhere worse…' ' quoted Darrow, remembering Lord Malveen's words.
'I smell smoke,' said Feena.
Darrow didn't yet, but he trusted the cleric's sense of smell. He remembered the dry timbers of the second floor and could only imagine the inferno they had ignited above.
'Dark and empty,' said Maelin. 'What did you do? Set fire to the place before coming down?' When she saw Feena wince, she cursed again. 'Some rescue this is.'
'Ill check the door.' Feena ran out of the baiting pit and up the stairs.
'Where does that hole lead?' demanded Talbot, his voice thundering like that of a battlefield commander. He pushed himself up and painfully got to his feet. He looked like the walking dead.
'I really don't know!' said Darrow. Now he smelled the smoke, too. They all did. Suddenly he remembered, 'The troughs!'
Maelin ran back into the hall between the cells. Darrow and Tal followed, finding her lifting the stone slabs that bordered the running water. Beneath them the trough was just wide enough for a big man to crawl through. At its end, it slanted sharply down, its bottom surface black and green with slime.
'This has to empty out somewhere, doesn't it?' Maelin said. 'Probably the sewers.'
'Probably,' agreed Tal. He knelt down and squirmed his head and shoulders into the chute, then pulled himself back out. 'It's a tight fit, but it's slippery enough.'
Feena returned from the stairs, breathless. 'The door's too hot to touch,' she reported, 'but smoke's pouring down the steps.'
Darrow looked dubiously at the sewage tunnel. The thought of being trapped in there was no more appealing than the prospect of suffocating under a house fire.
'Do we have any other options?' asked Tal.
Darrow felt slightly hurt that Talbot looked to Maelin before him. Nobody had an alternative.
'Right, then,' Tal said. 'The sewers it is. I'm most likely to get stuck, so I'll go first.'
'No,' said Feena. 'You're most likely to get stuck, so you go last.'
Talbot started to argue but thought better of it. Before any more arguments could arise, Maelin shucked off her outer clothing.
'I don't know about you people,' she said, 'but I'm sick of this place.' She dived head-first into the nasty chute. The rest of them followed her lead.
One by one, they slid down the chute to tumble down the slope of an enormous storm drain.
Numb after their ordeal, they picked themselves up and followed the sound of the surf until they came to a rusted grate beneath the wharves of Selgaunt Bay. Talbot grasped the bars, growled briefly as his arms grew thick and hairy, and tore their way out.
They climbed up to the waterfront and turned back toward House Malveen. The orange glow of the flames lit up the clouds from below, and they could hear the clamor of the fire brigade even at this distance.
Talbot stood with one big arm around Feena, who nestled her head against his chest. When Darrow took a step toward Maelin, she recoiled from him.
'I came back for you,' he said, 'just like I promised.'
Maelin looked at him as if a particularly noisome rat had come too close. She skirted around Feena to keep the cleric between her and Darrow. 'Stay away from me.'
'Wh-what?' stammered Darrow. 'I thought you and
'You thought what?' she spat. 'That I fell in love with you because you brought me food? The only thing I hated more than being locked down here for over a year was pretending to fancy you.'
Darrow stared at her, disbelieving what he heard. 'I didn't have to come back for you.'
'Yes, you did,' she said, 'because I made you come back for me.'
A cold realization slowly formed in Darrow's belly, heavy as the truth. Since he had left his home and come to Selgaunt, Darrow had done nothing but obey someone else: first Radu, then Rusk, and finally Maelin. Even when he turned against them, he had played the informant, the henchman… always the servant. It was all he had ever been, and he now feared it was all he would ever be.
Maelin might be free, but he was still in the cage.
Chapter 22
Mirtul, 1372 DR
What years of quibbling among its dozen creditors could not accomplish, the second fall of House Malveen resolved in a single night. Within a ten-day, salvage crews were carting away the rubble, and a new owner announced plans to build a shipyard on the site.
The inquest raged and died as quickly as the fire. Thamalon's influence combined with Dar-row's cooperation spared Tal from magical interrogation, and so the secret of his curse was kept. Darrow agreed to submit to divinations that would detect any falsehood, so the magistrates relied most heavily on his testimony. Tal added his account, omitting only a few details. He reasoned there was no harm in leaving the magistrates to infer that Rusk had done away with Alale Soargyl's body when he first came to the city. Rusk was the murderer, after all, and Tal still had no idea how or where Chaney disposed of the body.
Darrow remained imprisoned pending a judgment from the mistress of Moonshadow Hall, the nearest temple of Selune. His confessed crimes had occurred beyond the reach of Sembian law, but the magistrates deemed it politic to consult Dhauna Myritar. Justice would be hers to dispose if she so willed.
Tal couldn't decide what he thought should happen to the rogue werewolf. He had run and murdered with the People of the Black Blood, but his desire to turn away from their bloody ways seemed genuine. If asked to speak on Barrow's behalf, Tal wasn't sure what he would say. He did not want to diminish Maleva's memory by defending one of her murderers. On the other hand, what might have happened to him if Feena had not guided him away from the path of the Black Blood? He shuddered to think how close he had come to Darrow's fate.
The surviving Malveens naturally came under suspicion, but no amount of investigation, magical or otherwise, could incriminate them in their brothers' misdeeds. Tal glimpsed them at the inquest. Laskar looked stunned and confused by all the revelations, but Pietro had a peculiar smell about him, even from across the room. Tal hoped they were truly innocent of Stannis and Radu's schemes, and he wished for the thousandth time that Chaney were still around to watch his back.
