When they had gone, he slipped down to the dungeons.
It was an easy enough feat getting past the dungeon guards. He kept to his cat form, and they never saw or suspected his presence. Following his nose, he proceeded down the long stairs, catching snatches here and there of a familiar scent.
“Imraldera?” he called, keeping his voice low in case there were more guards than he realized. “Are you around, my dear?”
He tested the air for her scent once more. But here below the Spire, the Netherworld was far too close, and it overwhelmed his senses. Cursing, he called again, “Imraldera?”
“Eanrin? Is that you?”
It was like the sudden easing of a pain grown so constant that he scarcely recognized its presence anymore. And the relief flooding in was sharper by far than the pain itself. Eanrin took on man form, but his body trembled so that he was obliged to lean against the wall for support. Then he was running down the dark passage, his eyes gleaming like two lanterns.
“Eanrin!”
Her voice called to him from down low. He dropped to his knees and peered into the cell. He could not see her face; even his cat’s eyes struggled to find enough light to see by in this place, and her starflower had withered away. He reached his hand through the bars.
“Oh!” came her voice, irked and exhausted. “That was my nose you just grabbed. Have a care, cat!”
“Sorry, old girl,” he replied, withdrawing his hand. His throat thickened and he could barely speak. “Well,” he managed, his voice disguising a tremor, “this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it? If someone had told me that Dame Imraldera, Lady of the Haven, gate guarder and knight, would take the word of Etanun at face value and scamper off into the dangerous unknown without a second—”
“Have done,” she growled and her hand, reaching through the bars, grabbed hold of his. How thin and weak it had become during her imprisonment! “Can you free me?”
“It would take more than a lock worked by mortal hands to stop me,” said Eanrin and, with sudden gallantry, pressed her hand to his lips. Of course he had to laugh and pass it off as foolishness, and she pulled away from him quickly.
“Get me out, then,” she said.
He felt around until he found the lock. It was more complicated than he had expected, but it was still nothing more than a mortal lock.
“They took the heir to the Diggings,” Imraldera said as he worked.
“I know. But our little Mouse freed him,” Eanrin replied. “So the Murderer showed up and offered to do the deed himself.”
“Etanun?”
“They don’t need the heir to fetch the sword as long as the master is willing.” Eanrin’s tone was merry, but his face was grim in the darkness.
“Don’t be silly!” Imraldera snapped, and it warmed his heart to hear her sound like herself despite everything. “Do you really think our Lord would trust his will to an untrustworthy man?”
“I’m not saying anything against our Lord,” Eanrin muttered, “when I say I don’t trust his servant. Etanun is a sly dog—and I do mean dog, my girl, you may believe me! Do you know that because you were lured away from the gates, Corgar of Arpiar broke through into the Near World and is even now having his way with a whole host of pale Northerners? Tell me that’s part of our Lord’s plan, why don’t you?”
Imraldera said nothing at first, and Eanrin congratulated himself on having talked her into agreement, however grudging her silence. But then she said, “His ways are beyond our understanding. That doesn’t mean they aren’t right.”
“You are a trusting little mite, aren’t you?” With a click, the lock swung free. “Behold! Am I not a wizard?” Eanrin smirked and took Imraldera’s hands to haul her up and out. She could scarcely stand at first, for her limbs were too numb after that cramped imprisonment. Eanrin longed suddenly to draw her to his side . . . under the guise of comforting her, of course, though it was he who needed the comfort. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to it. A cat does have his pride to consider.
So she stood on her own, leaning only slightly on his hands as the blood flowed back into her legs and shoulders. He heard her soft groans, but she did not complain. At last he felt her squeeze his fingers, and she turned to him in the darkness.
“I knew you’d come for me,” she said. “Thank you.”
He opened his mouth a few times, but words choked him. So he shrugged and flashed a careless smile to hide what his bright eyes might reveal. “It’s not as though I can keep the watch by myself, now, can I? I need my comrade-in-arms all in one piece, thank you much.”