Arched brick creates a tunnel overhead, and a few dim lights illuminate the narrow path. A ditch runs beneath us, full of shallow rushing water, and I try not to imagine its origin.
“Where do we go?” I shout over the alarms, but Ego shakes her head as she glances around. Sakane pats her side as he passes her and beckons for us to follow, and for several minutes, we run.
Eventually he slows beside a light and pulls a map from his pocket while Ego crouches next to him.
“This system doesn’t lead anywhere close to home,” Ego says, shouting over the noise before glancing at Xeni in my arms. “There’s no way we can travel the streets after his father saw us.”
“Maybe Zadeus will die,” I say with hope I don’t believe.
She shakes her head. “An injury like that might kill a human, but one of them? A High Commander?”
“So, what?” Panic makes my voice go higher as I picture the hundreds of possibilities for disaster. “We just stay down here? We’re sitting ducks!”
Cato leans closer to examine the map, then jabs his finger at one of the highlighted access points. Ego glances up at him, and they have a silent conversation before she nods.
“She’ll help us,” Ego agrees.
She takes the lead with Sakane on her heels, while I follow with Xeni. Cato assumes his position behind us, and we jog for what seems like an hour.
The sirens keep blaring, and whenever we pass a manhole or door, the noise gets louder. Every time, I stare as though the entire army will burst through and grab us, but no one ever comes.
We finally stop at an access hole, and Ego stares up the ten-foot ladder to the round hatch above.
“Let me,” Cato says as he squeezes past me. “She knows me best.”
Sweat drips down my forehead and along my spine as I crouch with Xeni, my muscles quivering under his weight. He hasn’t regained consciousness, but his breathing is steady.
Minutes pass with the screech of sirens becoming nothing more than a buzz against the thump of my pulse. A sliver of light forms overhead, and I tense as I rush to my feet, ready to run.
Cato climbs down, and he nods at Ego before turning to me. “We can crash here while we figure out our next moves.”
“It’s safe?” I demand.
Cato lifts one shoulder in a shrug, glancing up at the open hatch. “As safe as we can be right now. Is he awake?”
“No,” I say as I shift Xeni in my arms. “We’ll have to work him up the ladder.”
Cato grunts. “Put him on my back and climb up behind me. I’ll need your help to lift him.”
I position Xeni’s arms around Cato’s neck, and Cato’s muscles strain as he climbs with one hand. I follow, supporting as much of Xeni’s weight as I can.
By the time Cato hoists Xeni through the hole, we’re both coated in sweat. As I catch my breath, I glance around to find we’re in a clean basement with shelves of baking supplies lining the walls.
One rack is loaded with bags of flour and sugar while containers of honey, chocolate, and nuts fill another. A third holds delicacies I haven’t seen in years—butterscotch, caramel, and a bottle of rum that makes me glance towards Xeni with a huffing laugh.
Cato speaks to a petite woman with frizzy gray hair. She smiles as I approach, and I return it as best I can as I take Xeni’s limp body from Cato.
Ego and Sakane climb through the hatch, and Cato runs over to help them move the cover. Once everything is back in place, the woman waves for us to follow her up a set of stairs.
I hesitate but Cato is relaxed, and I trust his judgement. We file into what appears to be a commercial kitchen, and astainless-steel rack is rolled aside to reveal a hidden doorway that opens to another stairwell.
The apartment is clean and well lived-in, though the alarms are louder up here without the sewer's insulation. We walk through a hallway, and the woman turns and nods at Xeni before she opens a door and waves us inside.
A large bed sits against the wall, covered in a rainbow of handmade quilts. Nightstands flank either side, and an overstuffed chair waits by the window, though the curtains are drawn. The room is neat in a way that makes it feel as though it hasn’t been touched in years.
I glance at her in question.
“There’s a bathroom,” she says, nearly shouting to be heard over the wailing. She nods toward a door opposite the bed. “Towels are in the closet, and if you leave your clothes outside, I’ll clean them. Don’t use the lamps. The neighbors will notice.”
