Vigorous clouds of steam were rising from the street alongside the glass merchants as the young man set off toward home. At the entrance to a narrow alley, he stopped, and turned. “Who are you?”

  Kaddie’s hand was inside the pocket of her coat, fingers around the handle of her sickle, her heart beating fast. She threw back her hood. “Glen, isn’t it?”

  “You,” he said. “Look, I didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Punch me in the face?” She shrugged. “I don’t care about that. But I need your help.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “My help? Oh, I get it. I help you or you’ll tell Bryn, he’ll tell his brother, and I’ll lose my job.”

  “Or, you’ll do it because you want to.”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  She relaxed fingers that had become rigid claws around her sickle handle. “I need to get inside the palace.”

  Quickly, he grabbed her and pushed her into the alley. “You don’t say things like that, down here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of the Theeds, that’s why not.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No, I—listen, I don’t even know your name.”

  “Kaddie Loxton. Poisoner’s Apprentice.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re too young.”

  “That’s why I’m still an apprentice. Are you going to help me, or not?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “What if you took me part way?”

  He seemed reluctant.

  “Come,” she insisted. “We can argue about it on the way.”

  “I don’t want to be late.”

  “It won’t take long.” She began to walk.

  “Not that way.”

  Kaddie stopped. She remembered Nianne’s rescue and their hurried escape. Daresay, if she put her mind to it, she’d have little trouble in retracing those frantic steps. So why was she here, putting herself in the hands of a young man who’d bloodied her nose and might do so again? Perhaps he was capable of worse. Perhaps he was about to climb further up her retribution list. She turned. “Are you sure?”

  “Do you want me to show you, or not?”

  Kaddie stared at him for a moment. She was wasting time and Torrell was in danger. “Very well, I’m in your hands.”

  They re-entered the street, passed by the glass merchant, the tailor next door, and a double-fronted store that sold rugs. They hurried down a short alley that ran alongside the rug store, and down an exceptionally long flight of stairs until Glen was a mere silhouette in front of her and she could barely see beyond his shoulder.

  The alley at the bottom narrowed further into a tunnel. It was poorly lit. She heard the sound of water running all around her, while alongside her the walls glistened with moisture.

  “This runs beneath one of the canals,” he said. “It gets damp, so watch your footing.” That he cared enough to warn her about slipping and cracking her skull was reassuring. “Why do you want to go there, anyway?”

  “Because they kidnapped Torrell. He was with me at the store, and in the tunnel when we got into a fight, remember?”

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  “I remember you coming at me with a knife. That’s what I remember.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t deserve it.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and offered her a grin. “If you’re the Poisoner’s Apprentice, I’m a black cat.”

  They reached a junction. More stairs led down to the right, this time into inky darkness. She hesitated. “Are you sure this is the right way?”

  “It’s the quickest, so yes, it’s the right way.” His voice was disembodied. She couldn’t see him at all.

  Try anything, she thought, and I’ll murder you.

  Endless steps, down into the gloom. Her companion’s shadow emerged ahead. Quickly, she dashed along a tunnel narrower than the last, realizing she had lost all sense of direction. Here, the base of the walls was thick and covered in tiny blocks of symbols. They were deep beneath the city, now. Close to the ancient ruins that whispered and gave her an inexplicable headache.

  Momentarily distracted, she almost ran headlong into Glen who had stopped a short way along the tunnel. He pressed a finger to his lips. Ahead of them, shadows danced, enhanced by conorum torches. Pressed against the wall, they waited in silence for the lights to disappear.

  “They’ve gone down another level. Come on,” he beckoned.

  “Wait,” she said. “What’s down there?”

  Glen kicked one of the carved blocks at the base of the wall. “The ruins, and I don’t think you want to go down there.”

  “Have you been down there?”

  “Sure. Everyone has.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, not too far, and the place is riddled with Theed’s men. They’re doing a lot of digging.”

  “For what?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. Grandma says there’s nothing but ghosts down there, anyway.”

  “That’s what my grandma says, too.”

  “Dad says there has to be something of value, otherwise, why dig?”

  “I want to follow them.”

  “I thought—”

  “If your father is right, then that’s where he’ll be.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Kaddie narrowed her eyes. “Are you afraid?”

  “Don’t be stupid. But this isn’t what we agreed.”

  She shrugged. “Just a little of the way?”

  “You’ll get me into trouble.” He let out a sigh and began to walk.

  Together they crept along until they reached the next stairwell. It was as gloomy and forbidding as the others and there was no sign of the torch bearers.

  “Quiet,” Glen hissed, and began to descend.

  Kaddie followed, secretly pleased that he was willing to stay with her. In all honesty she had expected him to whine and give her all sorts of trouble.

  This particular stairwell curved downward in a wide corkscrew. It bore a metal rail supported by an elaborate balustrade decorated with wrought metal leaves. It was like nothing she had ever seen in the city before. Leaning beyond its edge she could now see the torch bearers far below. The light twinkled and played with the shadows until the rail’s leaves danced and twisted as if alive.

  Part way down, water trickled from a clay pipe and dribbled down the wall. It smelled odd, metallic, and reminded her of her recent trip to the Shale territories. She wanted to ask Glen if he’d ever descended this deep, but didn’t dare speak.

  At the bottom of the steps was a tall arch. Its border was lined with stone blocks carved in a design similar to the ones inside Torrell’s books. He had told her the symbols represented a language, one he was trying to discover. Thoughts of him made her quicken her step.

  “Hey, not so fast.” Glen moved ahead of her. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  Kaddie nodded. The headache she knew was coming introduced itself as they passed beneath the arch. A series of lanterns had been strung up along the passageway. Its walls, from ceiling to floor, were covered in carvings. She let her fingers trail along their surfaces, until abruptly her hand recoiled as she heard a voice. Its sneering tone was immediately recognizable.

  Quickly, she grabbed Glen’s sleeve and urged him to retreat.

  Instead, he pointed and led her along a tunnel so dark and narrow it scraped and plucked at her coat. They emerged onto a shallow balcony that overlooked a circular pit. Directly below, picked out by the lanterns’ dull light were a group of men facing a wall lacking any ornamentation. Mercantiler Harrow’s voice was ringing out above the others.

  “How long?”

  “We’re not sure. The boy said—”

  “He’s probably spinning a yarn for one reason or another. Either he’s unable to do it, or he’s hoping Robles will pop out of the woodwork and rescue him. Bring him here. Perhaps some further persuasion is required.”

  Kaddie almost lost her footing as Glen pulled her quickly from the balcony and into the protection of the narrow passageway.

  “Harrow,” he hissed. “You never said anything about Harrow.”

  She couldn’t see his face in the dark, but there was no hiding the venom in his voice. “The palace,” was all she could say.

  They had to wait, huddled in their hiding place, until two men had climbed from the pit and had begun their ascent up the stairs. As soon as they deemed it safe, Kaddie and Glen followed, keeping to the shadows, avoiding the dancing light ahead of them.

  When they reached the top of the circular stairwell, Glen pointed in the direction of the men. “Not that way. This way is quicker.”

  Despite Mr. Kanter’s lessons, Kaddie’s leg muscles were burning after climbing the stairs. Glen set a fast pace, along tunnels that curved and dipped, beyond junctions that offered dozens of other routes that could have led anywhere, until they reached a wider stretch that bore a channel of running water.

  “I remember this,” she said.

  “Been here before, have you?”

  “Just once. What do you know about Harrow?”

  “He’s swindled just about everyone down here, but like the Theeds he employs a gang of toughs, so no one says anything.”

  “He tried to kill me.”

  “Crone’s teeth. Let’s get this done before we’re both killed.”