I set off a few paces, found myself alone, turned to see Ata and Lightning still looking at each other. She gazed at him straight, and a whole spectrum of unsaid things passed between them. Then Lightning gave a little shake of his head, and stepped away to join me.
The facade of houses along the harbor was dangerously exposed because lamps on posts every fifty or so meters cast light on the paving. They were so bright I couldn’t see the stars. We had to dash across the yellow pools and pause in the very narrow slices of shadow.
I reached one of the puzzling black and white posts that had a wooden cross-arm and dangling wires. I crouched behind it. “Saker, we must keep silence from now on. I know you don’t like this and I don’t blame you. But, just once, please follow my lead.”
The Archer nodded. He carried his strung bow over his right shoulder, leaving his arms free. His mantle covered the quiver on his back, giving his shoulders a spiky crest, and was pleated into his belt. Nocks and fletchings of fifty arrows projected from the quiver on his left hip, crammed in so tightly they hardly rustled. He hunched awkwardly, trying to hide his broad frame. With an Eszai’s determination, he was trying to be a sneak. I said, “Let’s go.”
Oil lamps on the shopfronts lit the entire boulevard. But the grid-streets of Capharnaum were perfect for us assassins; we stole down the adjacent parallel street. I kept near the wall and walked rapidly, ducked into a doorway, waited for Lightning to catch up. The main street glowed on our left every side alley we passed. A statue on a plinth. Sculpin’s wine shop; Opah’s seafood; Ling and Zingel, grocers, the shutters closed. I ran across the road and continued up on the other side. Lightning piled into the shop doorway behind me. He was favoring his wound. I waved him back into shadow while I took a look around.
Time to change streets. I sped right across an intersection, away from the boulevard and left uphill again. The junctions were sharp right angles, since Trisians don’t have coaches. We heard a bell chime, the Senate’s patrol calling for the next watch. This street was darker-the buildings were all homes. We dashed past open colonnades and hugged house corners.
If Capharnaum was scruffier and a lot more disorganized, then slinking through it in the early hours would be just like Hacilith: hiding at a corner, giving the constables the slip. Doubling back to be rid of the rival Bowyers gang.
I beckoned the Archer close as we approached a lighted house and together we strode confidently past their front door. When people are at rest in their homes, a furtive movement can alert them, but they don’t look twice if they think you’re a watchman.
The houses were all of equal size and gave no cover; we walked swiftly. The boulevard’s light shone out of the side streets; we sneaked along close to the muraled walls. Behind me, Lightning trailed my movements soundlessly. I value faithfulness among friends. If you have not honored every childhood oath of allegiance to the gangs that changed every minute; adventuring among the rambling rose, the margins of ponds and darkened streets, you have not been true to yourself. I still have the Wheel scar on my shoulder. I have honored those intense oaths of friendship, and as a result I am still a child.
The streets came to an end in darkness at the foot of the Amarot crag. Only the lit boulevard continued, climbing it in a zigzag path. A group of Trisians was descending the ten-meter-wide pavement from the Amarot into town. They wore cloaks over loose white shirts and wide trousers; they carried lamps and weapons. If they saw us they would recognize our outlandish Fourlands clothes immediately. We would have to pretend to be two of Gio’s brigands, which would be the worst way to meet him. I urged Lightning back with a wave, and we lurked behind the corner of the last house.
The curfew meant that Gio’s men were not wandering in the town. Unfortunately they were all corralled on the mosaic at the top of the crag-nothing between us and them but the Senate House itself. We watched the patrol pass by two streets away and descend into Capharnaum.
Lightning said, “They’re going the other way.” I seized his cloak and pulled him back as the previous patrol emerged. They exchanged a few words in a low tone with their colleagues and proceeded up the boulevard. We waited for what seemed like hours until they were thumbnail-sized at the top of the outcrop.
I mouthed, “Our turn. Ready? Keep a good look around, your eyesight’s keener than mine. Remember that bloody Insect. We can’t see as well as it can scent us. It can certainly outpace you; it’s very well fed.”
For the first few hundred meters, the crag’s white boulders were conspicuous. Then we found ourselves stumbling up the escarpments, over the scrubland. I feared there was a scorpion under every rock. A woody smell rose from the damp thyme shrubs, and spiny bushes scraped my shins. Lightning struggled behind me kicking them.
At the lip of the crag there was no cover at all. The stony soil crunched under our boots and a gentle wind gusted down from the mountain above us. I lay flat on the hillside and after a dignified pause Lightning copied me. We listened. Gio’s men were obviously on the rum again. They all seemed to be gathered around the roasting fire, lounging and enjoying themselves. Good.
Lightning touched my arm and pointed behind us. Capharnaum was spread out below; the boulevard gleamed like an amber river. Lights shone in the quadrangles of villas, picking out tiny green gardens, lit red-tiled roofs that were otherwise gray, highlighted smudges of color on the frescoes. The harbor beacon blazed continually in a black strip, a single star under the lowest constellations. I found it hard to believe that, far beyond it,
The tall outline of the Senate House blotted out the stars. Lightning and I glanced at each other. I tucked my coat back over my sword hilt; he nocked an arrow to string. We climbed as quietly as possible over the edge of the crag and onto its flat summit, into the Senate House’s shade, beside the first of twelve columns with square podia that were arrayed along its length. Wind blew the rebels’ cooking smoke over the roof ridge. Gio’s room was above and around the other side.
Lightning steadied himself with a hand against the stone and looked up. The building towered over us; its columns were fifteen meters high, their edges wavered in the gloom. Lightning patted a smooth corner block, whispered, “Can you climb it?”
“You do say some bloody ridiculous things sometimes. Look at it.”
“Damn. I hoped our scheme-”
“Well, of course I can.” I grinned. “This reminds me of when, before I left Hacilith to come to the Castle, I climbed the governor’s palace and left a blackmail note on Aver-Falconet’s own pillow. It was easy.”
Lightning’s volatile sense of morality flared. “What? I don’t remember you divulging that to the Circle!”
“Sh! It’s a long story; forget it.”
I had asked for a whole one thousand pounds and I was amazed when Aver-Falconet paid up. I thought it was a fortune; how little I knew. Still, I bought horses and new kit, and kept enough change to make it worth the highwaymen’s while when they robbed me of everything not ten hours later on the Camber Road.
“Stand here in the shadow until I return. Don’t move. Apart from if the shadow moves, of course.” I took a firm grasp of the stonework with both hands, found a toehold with my leg fully bent and kicked off with the other. Hugging my body close to the stone, my rangy reach gained another handhold and toe. I was fully above Lightning. He kept his arrow nocked and waited flanked by a column. The darkness gave grainy texture to his severe face.
I strained to make out cracks in the mortar. Tiny white pinpoints prickled in my night vision. I folded my wings tight because their weight pulled me away from the wall. I stabbed my strong, pointed nails into the gaps, my fingers clawed. I jammed my boot in, straightened my leg. I raised my weight and stretched out for the next hold. I undercut the grip, cheek to the chill stone, stepped up.
The wind was stronger here. It blew around the exposed corner and cooled off my sweat. I hung on with one hand and both feet, stood up straight and took a break. I exhaled a long breath of admiration at the view: hundreds of houses and twenty thousand lives that Gio had snatched as a stake in his game. Well, now he is dealing with Comet who learned to climb in the precipitous ice-split chimneys of Darkling’s cliffs.
Above me was a narrow ledge. I reached up and felt about in the seagull shit. I secured a good foothold, bent my knees, sprang gracefully onto the cornice. I ran lightly along it, rounded the corner to the side of the building facing the mosaic. I flattened myself against the architrave of Gio’s window. The brigands’ camp was below, at the other side of the square. If any of them glanced up, they would see me plainly against this white stone. I quickly
