“I love his spirit,” Crenaxin said, walking calmly up to him. “I mean, even now, he’s so righteous. It’s very interesting.”
He knelt down next to Minox, and ran a finger along Minox’s hand, now glowing with just an ember of blue within the hard, dead black.
“But this, oh, this . . . I think this is something Mister Senek will be very interested in, indeed.”
Kaiana didn’t know what had happened. She had been fighting with those creatures, those bastards, trying to escape with the inspector, when suddenly she had been hurled off her feet, tumbling down the passage. She had lost her sword—Dad’s sword—in the process.
She got to her feet and brushed herself off. She knew where she was—the same passage they had come from. She could get back to the Blue Hand house relatively easily, go for help. Maybe Veranix was back. She could get him, bring him back through here, hopefully in time for Inspector Welling.
Welling.
She realized what he had done. He had saved her, sacrificed himself so she would get away. She had to go back for him, get him out of there. It’s what Veranix would do for him. It’s what he would do for anyone.
Though Kaiana wondered what she, an unarmed groundskeeper, could possibly do to rescue Welling from a blazing army of mad cultists and deformed monsters.
Not a damned thing.
What would Veranix do?
More importantly, what would she want Veranix to do in a moment like this?
Why Veranix was constantly doing stupid things became abundantly clear to her.
She resolved to go back for him. It was the only decent thing to do.
She started back down the tunnel toward the encampment, all the while forming a dozen different apologies to Veranix. Not that she would actually tell him any of them. That boy’s head was big enough without being told he had been right. But she’d think of them.
After only a short walk, two figures came out of the darkness. Robes, wicked blades and wickeder smiles. She screamed and almost fell back, just barely keeping her footing.
“There she is,” one said.
“Time for a gift of blood for the Brotherhood,” the other said.
Before Kaiana could even respond, a whistling sound cut through the air. Then the clang of metal on stone, metal on bone, then again. Both those zealots had been suddenly walloped out of nowhere, and a young woman jumped into view, catching the shield flying through the air.
She landed, sword high, shield raised, a look on her face of someone who was both very angry and very happy to find a target for her anger.
“Time to rethink your choices, boys,” she said.
The zealots turned to her and charged, but they were out of their league. Their blades and punches missed every mark, while the girl—this saint—made quick work of cracking their skulls about. Without even quickening her breath, she flattened them both.
“You all right, miss?” she asked Kaiana, sheathing her sword as she approached. She was in uniform, but not one Kaiana had ever seen before.
“No,” Kaiana said. “I mean, I’m not hurt, but . . .”
“I understand,” the girl said—saints, now that Kaiana saw her up close, she was young. Same age as Veranix. “My name’s Jerinne.”
“Kaiana.”
“How’d you get down here with Inspector Welling?” Jerinne asked.
“You know him?”
Jerinne nodded. “He got captured, but when I saw them coming down the tunnel after you, I figured . . .”
“Thank you,” Kai said. “He was investigating something with missing children in Dentonhill, and wanted someone to come with him, and . . . it’s complicated.”
“So you’re not with the Constabulary in any way?”
“Not at all,” Kaiana said. How could she explain who she was or why she had been down here with Welling? “I’m . . . I’m an associate of the Thorn. Do you know who that is?”
Jerinne nodded. “I’ve read a couple things in the newssheets, talk in the Initiate barracks. I didn’t . . . I didn’t think he was a real person.”
“He is,” Kaiana said. “But he was . . . he was already gone, looking for the missing children with someone else.”
“Seems to be the thing to do today,” Jerinne said. “All right, can you walk? Are you all right?”
“More or less,” Kaiana said.
“I’ve got some other friends in trouble down here, so I’m going to go back for them and Inspector Welling. Can you find your way back up to street level?”
Kaiana nodded. “Yeah, I marked the way from where we came in.”
“Smart,” Jerinne said, her smile practically lighting up the tunnel. “Where are you going to come up?”
“Dentonhill. North side of it.”
“Saints, I’ve gone far underground,” Jerinne said. “All right, get over to the Inemar stationhouse, look for Inspector Satrine Rainey. No one else.”
“Why—” Kaiana started.
“Because there are people up there who are working with these bastards down here,” Jerinne said. “Satrine can be trusted.”
“What about the Thorn?”
“Maybe he’s already down here in this mess,” she said with a smile. “If you can get him, I’ll take it. But make sure you tell Satrine Rainey. Tell her what happened. Tell her about Welling. Tell her I sent you—Jerinne Fendall.”
“Jerinne Fendall,” Kaiana repeated. “What if she’s not at the stationhouse?”
“Then you find her at home. Fourteen Beltner, in High River.”
“Fourteen Beltner. All right.” She took a deep breath. “Anything else?”
“She’ll know what to do,” Jerinne said. She hesitated for a moment, and then wrapped Kaiana up in an embrace. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Kaiana said, not sure how to react to that. Jerinne released her, a shy, awkward smile on her face, and then ran off into the darkness.
Kaiana turned around and started to make her way back to the Blue Hand house, hoping that Jerinne was right, and Inspector Rainey knew what to do.
Verci had tried to be patient. He tried to wait it out.
Seeing that fellow jump off the roof to his death didn’t help one bit. Nor had seeing that Waishen-haired inspector on the
