Male voices carry from the hallway. “I heard it, too. Check it out.”
Quint grabs my hand and tugs me upward, back toward my quarters, but I pull him in another direction—down.
“No,” I say. “This way.”
Thorin meets my eyes, ready to protest, but I leave no room for argument. There’s notimefor argument. Shouts have picked up inthe hallway. I don’t know if it’s palace guards or the consuls themselves, but either way, they’ll have armed people with them—and they’ll be on us in a heartbeat.
We run down the stairs, and Quint’s hand is still closed on mine. I don’t let go. When we reach the bottom, I tug him left, pulling toward the darkest, coldest parts of the palace: the wine cellars and the butchers’ kitchens. All rooms with no exit.
Quint balks, and Saeth whispers a warning, but I shake my head fiercely.
“Trust me,” I say.
We run. Footsteps beat against the stairs now.
The hallway is dim, because the staff has gone home—if they haven’t been mostly discharged. I haven’t used this exit in years, and there’s a part of me that’s terrified that it’s been found and sealed over. If so, we’ll be out of options. But if we’d gone out my window, we would’ve been an open target in the gardens. I remember the night we fled the rebels, and we barely made it out alive.
My heart is pounding so hard that I nearly miss the butchers’ rooms. The coppery scent of dried blood tangs the air, but I grip tight to Quint’s hand and drag him inside, the guards right behind us.
Saeth and Thorin look at the four brick walls of the room, all lined with drying slabs of beef, then look at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I move to the back wall, where a wooden ledge runs the length of the room. It looks like a bench for tools, and perhaps it is, but I know it’s false. I pull at the wood slats, expecting them to give immediately.
They don’t.
Panic flares in my chest. Quint joins me, pulling by my side, but they’ve been nailed down.
“Under here,” I say, breathless from the run. My voice is weak and thin. “We need to pry the wood up.”
Saeth and Thorin have already started pulling at the wood, and for a single agonizing moment, nothing moves. I watch them exchange a desperate glance.
But then the wood gives all at once. Dust explodes upward. Bits of wood crack and fall, giving the impression of a deep well below.
A man shouts from the hallway. “I heard something break! It sounds like they went down this way!”
“Is there a ladder?” says Quint in a panicked rush.
“No.” There’s no time to explain more than that. I simply take a deep breath, then leap.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Harristan
Ican’t remember how far the drop goes, and the fall seems eternal. I haven’t usedthisparticular escape route since I was seventeen years old. As the wind rushes by my cheeks, I’m met by a horrific stench, and I realize the palace butchers could have been using this gap under the bench for disposal of some rather unsavory substances.
My feet land with asquelch, and I really don’t want to think about that too long.
Quint lands with a stagger and a gasp, and I grab hold of him before he can fall into . . . ?whatever we’re standing in. It’s nearly pitch-black down here, with only a bare strip of light from the gap above. I’m trying to get my bearings.
“We have to run,” I say, as the guards land beside us. “It’ll take them no time at all to follow.”
“Go,” says Saeth. “I’ll hold them off.”
“Yougo,” says Thorin, giving him a shove. He pulls the crossbow over his head. “I’m not telling Leah why you didn’t come back.”
There’s no time to argue, and I have to lead. We run.
I keep my hands out in front of me because the darkness truly is absolute, and I can’t remember how many steps until the turn. Even still, I slam into a wall, and then Quint slams into me.
