She ducked down and shuffled to the next window, which she found as impenetrable as the first. Back in the shadows, she saw Shahera beckoning her away from the building. But Taziri moved on to the front door just as the handle clicked and the door swung open. A young soldier dashed off into the darkness, never glancing back at the dark figure flattened against the wall.
Where’s he running off to?
She turned and found Shahera crouched beside her. The girl said, “I have an idea about how to get inside.”
“How?”
“The next time a soldier goes by, we hit him over the head and steal his clothes. Then one of us can sneak inside-”
“Good lord, you must read a lot of novels. We’re not stealing anyone’s clothes.”
“But it always works in the stories!”
“Well, this isn’t a story,” Taziri whispered. “It’s a cold night in a dark alley, and someone wants us in prison, or dead. Let’s go around back and see if we can find Qhora through another window.” She slipped past Shahera and ducked under the windows on her way to the corner of the barracks.
The door opened again. Taziri glanced back just in time to see Shahera leap forward and take a wild swing at the lone soldier emerging from the building. Her fist connected with the side of his face and the young man stumbled away from her.
“Ow! What the hell was… you!” Alonso rubbed his head. “What are you hitting me for?”
“I didn’t know it was you,” Shahera said. “I thought you were one of those soldiers.”
“You hit one of my favorite eyes. It really hurts,” he said, massaging the side of his face.
Taziri jogged out into the courtyard and dragged both of them toward the far wall, into the shadows. “Shut up, both of you.”
Shahera arched an eyebrow and nodded at Alonso’s army uniform. “I told you it works.”
“And I told you to shut up.” Taziri turned to the young man. “How did you escape? Where are the others?”
“Oh, it was easy. This is my home town. Half the guys in there are my friends. They let me run out to find Don Lorenzo. I have a message for him from his wife.” Alonso took his hand away from his face to reveal the first dark glimmers of black eye. “I just have to get back before the surgeon gets here.”
“What surgeon?”
“For Gaspar. Fabris sliced open his arm.”
Taziri stared. He was hurt because of me and Shahera, the poor boy. What kind of monster stalks strangers and helpless young men like this? “And the soldiers just let you leave?”
“Sure. They know I didn’t do anything wrong, and they sure as hell aren’t loyal to Fabris. In fact, it sounds like the major is pissed enough as it is and after a few more hours of these orders he’ll be ready to throw Fabris out on his ass, papers or no.”
“Then why didn’t they just let everyone else go in the first place?”
He sniffed. “Well, that’s the tricky part of doing the right thing. Sometimes you let your friend go, and sometimes you follow orders because you swore an oath to follow orders.”
“So they chose to let you go?”
Alonso shrugged. “They did what all honest and devout souls do. They split the difference. But don’t worry. They’re not going to let anything happen to the others.”
“What do we do now?” Shahera asked.
“We find the Don. He needs to know what’s happened. And he needs Alonso’s message.” Taziri took off into the city again without waiting for the others. It was becoming second nature. Just decide and go and let the rest sort itself out.
Alonso hurried to keep pace with her. “Dona Qhora said he went out chasing after Dante, so we should probably check the bars along the river.” He froze. The sharp clapping of boots on cobblestones echoed from just around the next corner. “Off the street!”
Taziri slipped sideways into a narrow alley and kept shuffling into the dark hole as the others crowded in behind her. The boots clapped and clicked louder as they turned the corner, and then began to fade quietly into the whistling wind.
Alonso whispered in her ear. “Two of them! A soldier and an older man with a bag. Shit!” They shuffled back out into the street. Alonso clutched his short black hair as he stared after the two men. “That was the surgeon for Gaspar. I thought I had an hour. Shit. They’ll know I’m gone now, I can’t go back.”
Shahera shivered. “Should we try to stop the surgeon then?”
“No. Gaspar needs him. We’ll worry about that later.” Taziri took their arms and steered them back down the road toward the river, or where she guessed the river to be. “Right now, all that matters is that we’re all free and Qhora is in good hands with your friends, right?”
“Absolutely. My friends won’t let Fabris touch a hair on her head.” Alonso led them to the riverside where they stood exposed above the banks of the Elbro, shivering in the starlight.
Taziri clutched her arms around her belly, feeling the hard edges of her brace digging into her ribs. Where is Lorenzo? And what am I doing here? No streetlamps. No trolleys. No telegraphs. But they do have some sort of post service. I can send a letter. It might take a week, but at least I could warn Isoke about the warship and tell Yuba that I’m still alive. How many days have I been missing now? Five? Six?
“Let’s try this way.” Taziri turned right and started walking. Any direction is better than none. Walking is better than standing. The wind blasted through her hair, turning every drop of sweat on her scalp into an icy finger clawing at her head.
“Alonso! Alonso!” Don Lorenzo dashed out from a side street with Dante just behind him. “What happened? I saw the soldiers going into the cathedral. Where’s Qhora? Where are the others? Where’s Qhora? And why are you dressed like that?”
“She’s fine, sir. They’re all fine.” Alonso winced. “Well, almost. It was the Italian, Fabris. He was looking for Taziri and Shahera, but Dona Qhora got them out in time. And then Gaspar tried to fight Fabris and got his arm slit open.”
“Fabris’s arm?”
“No, Gaspar’s. But it’s okay. They took him to the barracks and called for a surgeon to stitch him up, so he should be fine.” Alonso paused, chewing on his lip. “I hope he’s all right.”
“What about my wife?” Lorenzo asked.
“Oh, sorry, she’s with Gaspar and Hector in the barracks. In a cell. But that’s all right, too. She’s absolutely safe there. Most of the soldiers quartered there are old friends of mine. They’d never let anything happen to Dona Qhora or the others.” Alonso blew on his naked hands and rubbed them together. “They’re already on the verge of throwing Fabris out and letting everyone go free anyway.”
“Well, thank God for that. Take me back there now.” Lorenzo checked his espada. “We’re going to get them out.”
“No, sir, wait. I have a message from her. From your wife. She said to tell you not to come for her. She said to tell you to go get the stone and that she’ll take care of Fabris.” Alonso frowned. “I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I swear that’s what she said.”
Taziri frowned too. What stone?
“No, absolutely not,” Lorenzo said. “We’re getting them all out of there right now. I’m not about to take any chance that Fabris might hurt Qhora or the boys. If your friends are on our side, all the better. We can finish this business with Fabris right now. Tonight.”
“But, sir, that’s not what she wants. She wants you to go get a stone. What stone is that? She didn’t say.” Alonso shrugged. “Whatever it is, she made me swear that I would send you out of town as fast as you can go to get it while she keeps Fabris here in town.”
“But that devil could kill her!” Lorenzo shook Alonso by the jacket.
“Not without killing the entire garrison first,” Alonso said, shuddering as he pulled his ill-fitting uniform tighter around his belly. “They drew up lots and plans before I left. Six armed men guarding the cell at all times, rotating shifts, with another two men keeping an eye on the Italian so there’s no surprises. They know who you are, sir, and they know who your wife is. They’d rather kill their own commander than let anything happen to her. And when I
