“We’d better get going,” Nalyx said. He put out the lamp on the nightstand, plunging them into darkness. “You ready?”
Gantalla took a deep, steadying breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She looked up at him, his face a dim collection of shadows in the darkness. “No matter what happens next, I’m glad I met you, Nalyx. You’ve been the best friend I could ever ask for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nalyx’s heart was in his throat as he led Gantalla across the courtyard, thanking the gods that it was deserted. Never in his life had he done something as reckless as what they were doing tonight. He’d faced hoards of demons, dragons, unicorns, he’d been burned and stabbed and beaten, but none of that seemed anything like as terrifying as trying to imagine what would happen if they failed in their attempts to get Gantalla’s sister free.
“Why did you bring your sword?” Gantalla whispered to him, as they crept around the end of the building and headed towards the town square.
“In case anything goes wrong.”
It seemed like an obvious answer to him, so he was surprised when Gantalla suddenly stopped, glaring at him with an offended look on her face. “Alithmain isn’t going to harm anyone.”
“What?” He frowned at her, then suddenly realised how she’d taken his comment. “No! I mean in case some fool-headed human tries to get in our way.”
“Oh!” She looked genuinely stunned by that. “You mean you’d… You’d kill a human? To save us?”
Would he? He still didn’t really know. He didn’t want either Gantalla or her sister harmed, but killing one of the townsfolk would be just as bad. “I seriously hope I don’t have to.”
They paused at the entrance to the town square and Nalyx scanned the area, his eyes drawn to the slightest movement, his gaze lingering until he was certain it was clear. A tree on the far side cast flickering shadows as its leaves moved in a slight breeze. A nightingale chirped cheerfully from atop a nearby roof. And further away, he heard the shrill screech of a bat. But the square itself was empty.
He looked around at the windows overlooking the square. Any one of them could house an inadvertent spy. Thankfully, all the lights seemed to be off, though his gaze lingered on the windows of the hospital. The night nurses would be awake, some of the few people in town who had a genuine reason to be up and about at this hour, but hopefully they would have better things to do than stare out at the empty streets in the middle of the night.
The location of the cage, of course, was the worst possible place for them to enact their rescue. No cover, plenty of vantage points for people to see them, multiple angles from which they could be surprised or attacked. As far as military strategy went, it was a disaster. But the simple truth was that they had no other choice.
There was a quarter moon, just bright enough for them to find their way, but hopefully not enough to draw any attention to them. “Let’s move up to the bakery,” Nalyx whispered to Gantalla. She hadn’t made a sound since they’d arrived at the square. “Keep to the shadows, then we can take another look around from there. But one way or another, we’re going to have to just make a run for it through the middle of the square.”
Gantalla nodded, rising gracefully and making her way on silent feet around the edge of the square, Nalyx only a few steps behind her. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, flinching at every tiny noise, but they made it to the bakery without incident, crouching down behind a stone bench. He had a better view of the rear end of the square from here. There were pockets of shadow, dim recesses where someone might have been hiding… but after a few patient minutes of waiting, nothing had moved. And no one knew of their plans. It was possible a drunk might have been loitering in one of the alcoves, taking a piss, but there was no reason for anyone to be lying in wait.
For a brief moment, he wondered whether Gantalla had told anyone what they intended to do, but dismissed the notion a moment later. She wasn’t stupid. If she had told anyone, it would most likely have been another one of her own people, hiding in plain sight as they disguised themselves as a human. And suddenly, he found himself wondering who else in their sprawling town was something other than what they appeared to be. As he’d pointed out himself, Gantalla wasn’t the first person to make it through the gate. She’d had to have got the extra necklace from someone from Chalandros, after all. So how many people were there in town who wore the obsidian jewels? How many shopkeepers or merchants or tradesmen were actuallysomething else?
Pulling his mind back into focus, Nalyx dismissed the idea. He had more important things to worry about. Gantalla was saying nothing, making no move at all to hurry him up, and he was grateful for her patience. She had more reason than him to want this to go well, but to trust him to take the lead still showed remarkable faith in him. If he’d been in her position, he wasn’t sure he’d have been as trusting.
Finally, he was satisfied that they were alone. “Head straight for the cage,” he said. “Keep Alithmain quiet. There’s no reason for anyone to be awake, but if she starts making a racket, there’s a dozen houses within earshot who could hear her. I’ll be a little way behind you, just so I don’t startle her too much.”
Gantalla nodded. She rose halfway to her feet, then suddenly seemed to change her mind. She crouched down again, then planted a firm kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” she said. Then she was gone, moving in quiet dashes across the courtyard. He watched as she approached the cage. Alithmain was asleep, from the looks of it, but he could see the exact moment she woke. She tensed, jerking upright from her position slumped against the bars, and he heard a gentle murmur of voices… followed by a startled squeal.
“SHHH!” He could hear Gantalla’s sharp warning even from here, and he tensed, looking about urgently. The square was still empty. Nothing moved.
A moment later, Gantalla waved him over. With one last glance around, he darted out of cover, heading to the front of the cage.
“This is Nalyx,” Gantalla told her sister when he arrived. “He’s human, but he’s here to help us.”
“You look like a human,” Alithmain said to Gantalla, fearful confusion in her voice. “What have you done?”
“I have an obsidian gem that’s been enchanted by a witch. I’ve got one for you, too. When you put it on, you’ll look as human as I do. It’s the only way to get you safely away from here.”
“Witches! Yes,” Alithmain said. “Witches are wonderful. But how are you going to get me out of here?” She was terrified, likely near hysterical, and it was no surprise, given that she’d had the entire day to imagine her own gruesome death a thousand times over.
“With this,” Nalyx said, holding up the key. Alithmain rose to her knees, gripping the bars of the cage as he worked the lock. It was heavy and stiff from lack of use. This cage was probably only brought out of storage once or twice a year.
“Why is a human helping me?” Alithmain asked Gantalla, as she watched Nalyx coaxing the key to turn. After a long, firm jiggle, the mechanism clicked open, and he slid the shackle out of its hole.
“It’s a really long story,” Gantalla said, “and I can tell you all about it when we get out of here. Come on, let’s get you down.” She held out her hand to steady her sister, as Nalyx held the door open.
“Actually, that’s a really good question,” a loud voice said from behind them, and Nalyx spun around, the lock and the key both clattering noisily to the ground. Captain Leefe stood a short distance away, regarding them coolly. “Tell me, Nalyx. Why is a human helping a demon?”
He could feel the fear radiating off Gantalla as a visceral wave. She planted herself between Leefe and Alithmain, drawing a short knife from her belt. But with or without the weapon, she was no match for the Captain of the Guard.
