time. The guard’s head leaped from his neck and rolled back into the passage. His body toppled to the side. Ashi started.
“Did you have to kill him?”
“Yes.” Aruget jumped for the doors, dragging them shut. “There’s an outer gate-open it!”
Beyond a jutting roof that gave shelter to the doors, rain came down in cascades, turning the small courtyard beyond into a vast black puddle. Ashi splashed her way through it. The outer wall of the courtyard was simple brick, meant to keep out trespassers more than to repel attackers. There were no guards-they must have all been huddled near the inner doors to stay dry. Heavy wooden doors in the brick wall were held shut only by a thick beam. Ashi grasped the rain-slicked wood, clenched her teeth, and hauled the beam free of one door before letting it drop. They didn’t need both doors open to escape. The freed door swung wide with only a tug. Aruget joined her and, side by side, they dashed through the gate and ran out into Rhukaan Draal.
The night was very dark. Wind-driven rain soaked Ashi’s clothes entirely. Aruget led her through a maze of sidestreets and alleys, always away from Khaar Mbar’ost but never in a straight line. Ashi flipped wet hair out of her face, wiped water from her eyes, and stayed with him. Once she thought she heard the sounds of pursuit, but they were gone as quickly as they appeared.
“What did you do in the kitchen?” she said.
“Korluaat poured inside a cauldron,” Aruget gasped. His breathing was more labored than hers, but he carried the weight of his armor and of a larger body. “Another cauldron jammed over top with noon paste to seal the gap. Set over the fire with a rag for a fuse.” He drew a ragged breath. “More pots piled around them. Kettle stopped up with cork and a bit of metal. Spice jars on the coals. No more questions.” He sucked in more air. “Bloody hobgoblins-not built for running!”
They splashed through puddles that stank like sewers and others that were already as deep as her shins. She stumbled over unseen obstacles and Aruget dragged her to her feet. They didn’t slow. Cold from her wet clothes numbed her skin, beaten back temporarily by the heat of exertion. Faces flicked past in the shadows beneath eaves and stairs-people without homes or simply those caught in the storm, seeking out any shelter they could.
It seemed like they’d been running half the night before the alley they followed opened onto a broad street running with water. Rain and shadow rendered it as anonymous as all of the others at first, but then Aruget slowed to a stumbling, wheezing walk and pointed ahead. Ashi looked-and a complex of buildings enclosed by a stout wall seemed to resolve out of the night. Beside tall iron gates, a crest depicting the head of a unicorn was illuminated by a muted but steady magical light.
The Orien compound. Ashi grabbed Aruget’s arm and all but dragged him the rest of the way. “Enough,” he gasped. “Let me go!”
She released him and seized the gates by their heavy bars instead. They were locked, of course. The compound beyond was broad and lit by a few everbright lanterns that shone steady through the rain. Empty wagons were drawn up against outbuildings, and she could smell the animal odor of horses and tribex. No people-human, hobgoblin, or otherwise-were visible, however. They were probably taking shelter.
Ashi rattled the gates. “Is anyone there?” she shouted. “I need to see Viceroy Pater d’Orien! It’s urgent!”
An iron rod was chained at one side of the gate. She seized it and hammered on the gates until they rang like chimes. “I am here on an urgent matter concerning Deneith and Orien!”
There was no response. None at all. She lifted the rod again and struck the gates harder. “Pater! Pater!”
A door opened, light flooding across the compound. A stiff-looking man in the uniform of a servant darted out into the rain and ran to the gates. Ashi recognized him from visits to the Orien compound-he was Tars, Pater’s manservant. His eyes were frightened and his mouth set tight. He slid to a stop at the gate and thrust a paper through the bars at her. “No one will answer you,” he said.
He glanced over his shoulder and stiffened. Another figure stood in the doorway. A hobgoblin warrior, armed and armored. For a moment it looked like he might come out into the compound but the fat form of Pater d’Orien appeared and drew him back. The viceroy threw a glance over his shoulder. Ashi couldn’t tell if it was meant for her or his manservant. Tars shuddered. The paper slipped from his fingers and he fled back inside.
Ashi clung to the gate, cold metal pressing wet clothes against her skin. An armed hobgoblin inside the Orien compound. One of Tariic’s soldiers? Almost certainly. Now that she’d seen him, she saw other things. A horse, still wearing saddle and bridle, tucked into the shelter of an overhanging eave when every other beast was in a stable. A comfortably dry gatehouse that stood empty. Faces that peered from darkened windows but made no move to answer her call.
Aruget bent and scooped the paper Tars had brought out of a puddle. His eyes skimmed over it. His ears lay flat. “Ashi.” He pushed the paper into her hands.
A gust of wind tore at it and she had to stretch it tight, leaning into the torchlight that came through the gate to read it. Water was already making the ink run but she could make out what it said easily enough.
By decree of Lhesh Tariic Kurar’taarn, Ashi d’Deneith is accused of the murder of a soldier of Darguun. To offer her aid or interfere in her arrest is an offense to the throne and the people of Darguun.
The warning was repeated in the dark letters of Goblin, but it had been written in the script of humans first. A deliberate warning to Pater.
“He knew,” Ashi breathed. “Tariic knew! Who told him?”
Hoofbeats sounded over the patter of rain and the rush of wind. Ashi’s head snapped up. Fear punched into her gut. One soldier sent to the compound as a messenger to prevent her escape-and a whole squad sent after to trap her. She whirled. “Aruget, we have to-”
She stood alone. Aruget was gone.
Six hobgoblins on horseback burst out of the darkness, swords drawn, the hooves of their mounts sending up sprays of water. They came to stop in a semi-circle around her, trapping her against the gates. One of them walked his horse forward a little and pointed his sword at her.
He didn’t have to say anything. Wet, shivering, and unarmed, Ashi crumpled the paper in her hand as she raised her head to meet his gaze.
“Geth.” Hands shook him hard. “Geth, wake up! There are horsemen outside.”
Sleep burned away like shadows in the sun. Geth opened his eyes and sat up. Tenquis’s workshop spun around him for a moment as his mind made the leap from drowsing to alertness. He’d fallen asleep in a big stuffed chair. The workshop was still brightly lit. Tenquis was still dressed. The table where they had eaten earlier in the day was now carefully laid with the tools for tomb breaking.
And the sound of rain was overwhelmed by the clatter of hooves.
Geth jumped up. He still wore his great gauntlet, though Wrath had been laid aside. He seized it. The blade seemed alert and happy, ready for its chosen hero’s moment of glory. He cursed the ancient sword. “How late is it?” he asked Tenquis.
“Most of the way through the second watch, I think.” The tiefling dashed around his workshop with quick movements, stuffing papers and trinkets into the pockets of his long embroidered vest. His tail lashed furiously. “This is Tariic, isn’t it? He figured you out-or someone gave you away.”
Geth didn’t answer that. Outside, hoofbeats had given way to footsteps. He pointed at the tool-covered table. “Get rid of those!”
Tenquis leaped to the table. His eyes flicked over it and he added a few more things to his pockets-then took up a heavy steel pry bar and jabbed it into an inner pocket of his vest as well. The massive shaft slid out of sight without even shifting the fabric. Tenquis gripped the collar of his vest, whispered a word, and the labyrinthine pattern of embroidery that decorated the garment seemed to writhe. Any hint of bulging pockets vanished. “Safe,” Tenquis hissed between his teeth, then he seized the edge of the table and heaved, overturning it and sending the remaining tools skittering across the floor in an anonymous jumble.
The crash brought an exclamation from those outside-and a command to attack. “Get out one of the back windows!” Geth shouted at Tenquis.
“They don’t open!”
The twin doors of the old barn burst in a shower of splinters under the shoulders of two big bugbears. Geth roared and charged to meet them, sweeping Wrath ahead of him. The twilight blade tore into the flesh of one of the bugbears, but the other managed to duck aside. A hairy fist wrapped in rings of scarred brass punched at him. Geth
