It tears my heart apart to leave Skirra with Malak and, at the last moment, I turn. “That wolf is my brother, too.”
“Don’t worry, Vandawolf,” Malak says. “I would sooner cut off my own arm than destroy this perfect animal.”
I have no choice but to accept his word.
Turning away from him, I hurry back to Thoren.
Chapter 27
Asecond set of bells rings out as we exit the orchard through its black stone gate, each of us holding a half-eaten apple.
As we did with the water, we had to trust that the fruit wasn’t poisoned and we waited after the first bite to check before devouring five each and taking the remainder of a sixth with us.
The guards on the other side of the black wall cast us narrow-eyed glances and when we step toward the path that leads back to the infirmary, the Blacksmith named Jadiel tries to grab Thoren.
“Where do you think you’re going without night passes?” Jadiel asks.
Thoren lightly sidesteps him, evading Jadiel’s grasping hands.
I barrel up to the Blacksmith, preparing to sweep his legs out from under him if I have to.
“Malak’s orders!” I snap. “If you disagree with them, take it up with him.”
Jadiel immediately steps back, but a nasty smile stretches across his face. “I believe you, but others won’t.”
Thoren is already backing away and I follow after him, keeping the guards within my sights until we’re far enough away from them to focus on the path ahead.
“What are night passes?” Thoren whispers.
“I don’t know,” I murmur back. “But we need to learn everything we can about this city as quickly as we can. Malak might want us here for a purpose, but he won’t make things easy for us.”
Around us, the city is falling silent. In the distance, the hum of machinery starts to fade. The windows of the buildings we pass are shuttered, dim light spilling around them.
In the far distance toward the west, I make out the shapes of much grander buildings than the ones here.
Lamps are being lit along the path by human men wearing ragged clothing. Curiously, each of them has a sash of bright-white material wrapped around their right bicep. I didn’t notice any humans wearing those armbands earlier.
Blacksmith guards patrol the street up ahead.
Thoren grabs my arm, tugging me to the side of the path. “This way. There’s a narrow path of white stone. I saw it earlier. The same sort of path lets out beside the infirmary. If we’re lucky, the paths will connect. We can avoid the Blacksmiths this way.”
I give him a nod and we dart into the shadows of the unlit path, following it around until the shape of the coal house comes into view. The infirmary is tucked beside it.
We pause at the infirmary’s entrance, standing at the edge of the light spilling through the door, taking in the sounds of pain coming from within it.
Unlike nearly every other building, the door here is wide open.
We can see straight through the small room at the front to another set of doors, beyond which is a much larger room linedwith beds, at least thirty on each side. A wide aisle sits between them.
More than half of the beds are filled with people: some lying on their sides, others on their backs, a few sitting on the edge of the beds, their shoulders slumped. Most of them are human men.
Women with purple streaks in their hair hurry around the room, carrying metal implements or jars or bandages and tending to the men.
It’s noticeable that they’re all located at the far end of the room.
There’s a gap between them and a set of six visibly larger beds at this end of the room. It’s harder to see because of the angle, but the flashes of metal indicate there are Blacksmiths present. I won’t know for certain until I step inside if they’re here as guards or as patients.
I give Thoren a nod and we pass through the small entry room.
