“Risen is an ancient city,” Eira said. “Built and rebuilt upon its old footings for thousands of years.” Who knew what could be found down here if they went looking? Perhaps there would be room for pirate stowaways in the future, or a good route to infiltrate the city, should she ever need to… For now, she’d keep her focus on what was happening on the surface.
“I can’t believe she took him…that I let him go…” Olivin paced in the farthest corner of the room, berating himself under his breath. Just when he was feeling as if he might reclaim everything that was lost, this happened. Even if Eira didn’t share his goals for the future…she still felt for him.
“This is what they do,” Ducot said gravely. “You know it as well as the rest of us. It’s what they did with Eira, with Taavin, with Yonlin.”
“Twice,” Olivin added unnecessarily.
“Once the dust settles, I want to move quickly.” Eira set a definitive tone in trying to shift the conversation away from the cycle of rage and annoyance to something productive. All eyes went to her. “I have a plan, but it’s open for discussion.”
“Tell us,” Ducot demanded, keeping the focus.
For the next two hours, they debated the best steps for them to take to save Yonlin while not risking the attack on Ulvarth too early. Lamenting that their element of surprise was gone. But there were still things Ulvarth wasn’t expecting—the attack from the other nations, hopefully, and with any luck Yonlin had kept the pistol secret.
They drew lines in the dirt on the floor, overexplained, and looked at everything in every possible way. The most important thing was to get Yonlin back, and Eira suspected she knew where Wynry and Ulvarth would put him. If it were her hiding Yonlin, she’d put him somewhere that she’d expect none of them to know about while lining the way to the dungeons with knights and other traps. So the plan was to get to the Archives—clearinga path when possible for the larger attack on the city—and then get to Yonlin.
By the time they all seemed more or less in agreement, Eira was confident the initial hunt for them on the surface had ended. Which meant that the Pillars were likely to turn their attention below.
“Take us on the least common paths to get as close to the Archives as possible,” Eira commanded Ducot. “Alyss, connect passages when you sense another close by for us to move on different tracks.”
They descended the ladder, farther underneath the streets of Risen.
She wasn’t trusting Olivin to guide them, not when it was clear that Wynry was already anticipating his every move. Twice, they heard movement in the distance. Both times, Alyss pulled them onto a side path and they waited. It was impossible to know if the noises were from the Pillars, from Rebec’s Shadows, or rogues and vagabonds. But Eira wasn’t going to risk an encounter.
They began to ascend, eventually coming up to a cellar. Hunched and with breaths held, they listened and reached out with magic. There were no noises or signs of life above them.
Ducot moved for the door, pushing on it. Fortunately, it hadn’t been locked or barricaded from the other side and they emerged from underneath the corner of an intricate rug in a house long abandoned.
“Thank goodness this is still here,” Ducot breathed. “It should be all right to stay for the night.”
“We’re not staying the night here.” Eira moved to a nearby window, lurking in the shade of the heavy curtains and trying not to sneeze from the clouds of dust her movements created.
“It’s a Shadow safe house. No one ever owned this place but us,” Ducot said.
“Exactly. We can’t depend on anywhere owned by the Shadows.” She scanned the street below, recognizing the rougher area of town she’d once used as her entry and exit to the Archives. This seemed to be somewhere opposite, but close enough to be useful. “I’m going to go and find us somewhere else to stay. I’m sure there’s some back door left unlocked, or attic no one will look in.”
“Isn’t that more of a risk than staying in the attic here?” Alyss asked. “If we’re somewhere else, people could be there.”
“Any life a Pillar senses here they will automatically assume is a Shadow and weed us out. We need to hide among the masses.”
Alyss nodded at that after a moment’s consideration.
“I’ll come with you,” Cullen offered. “There’s safety in numbers.”
Eira briefly considered telling him no. But if they did run into trouble, it could allow one of them to escape and get word back to the rest. So she said, “All right.”
A few minutes later, they emerged onto the street in new clothing and hooded cloaks. A benefit of emerging into a Shadow supply house was that there had been ample options to change their appearances. Despite this, she kept an illusion wound tightly over them as they left. To a casual observer, the door to the townhome hadn’t even opened.
“You know it won’t take much to goad him off the plan,” Cullen said gravely. He didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.
“I know.” Eira sighed. “But what am I supposed to do? Let him run off?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Cullen, aghast.
“I don’t speak from jealousy,” Cullen made sure to clarify, though surprisingly the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “But if it is his life or the rest of ours, it’s not really a choice, is it?”
Eira gritted her teeth and looked toward the Archives looming over them. She imagined Ulvarth skulking in the highest, secret rooms where she’d met Taavin. Looking down across all of Risen as though it were a game of carcivi, and he was moving his pieces around.
