“She is.”
“Can’t be! She tamed one of the Dogs.”
Eanrin ignored this last and gave the girl a once-over. “We’ve got to hide. She’s not good for a step more.”
“Quick!” said Glomar, getting to his feet. He limped to the nearest tower with a window low enough to access.
Was the baying of the Black Dogs closer? Had they forgotten their quarrel and taken up the chase? Imraldera’s heart raced so hard that for a moment she did not realize what Glomar intended to do.
She saw him in the window, beckoning to Eanrin. “Pass me the lass,” the captain said. “We’ll hide in here until this Midnight lifts.”
Her gaze flew to Eanrin’s face, but she saw only an instant’s hesitation. Then he shrugged, stood up, and picked her right off the ground, carrying her more easily than she’d carried the orange tomcat. Glomar reached down to her, and only then did Imraldera realize.
She shook her head and struggled, nearly causing Eanrin to drop her. He let her slip enough that her feet landed on the stone once more. But she would have fallen had he not kept his arms about her. “I say, steady!” he cried. “No use in fussing. You can’t go on, so we’ve got to hide, and this is the only place. We’ll go in together, I promise. We won’t be separated.”
You can’t promise that, she thought. But he was right. What else could they do? At least now she knew he hadn’t died when they were parted before. That was some comfort.
Eanrin passed her to Glomar, then climbed up, and they held her between them, crouching on the sill. There was no doubting it now; the Black Dogs were certainly getting closer.
“We’ve got to jump together,” Eanrin said, “else we might lose each other in the dark.”
“And wouldn’t that be a tragedy,” Glomar growled.
“Lumé’s crown, Glomar, there’s a time for—”
Imraldera took hold of their hands and jumped into the shadows.
The fall was not great; she was prepared for one much greater. But the landing jarred her, and she lost her hold on Eanrin’s hand. That was it, then. He was gone. She would never find him now.
“Gah! My ankle!” Glomar roared in one of her ears. Then in the other, a golden voice yowled, “Dragon’s teeth and tail, my girl! You could give a fellow warning.”
She had never thought she’d be so glad to hear the cat. Her hand darted out and caught his, clutching as though she would never let go. So the shadows hadn’t separated them. The streets moved, not the space inside the towers. At least, as far as she could guess. Who could fathom the rules of this awful place?
The three of them sat in the dusty dark base of the empty tower, feeling rather than seeing the vastness above them. Imraldera waited several breaths as her heart relearned to beat. Slowly, two separate thoughts formed in her mind. First, the noise of the Black Dogs’ pursuit was gone, replaced with silence.
Second, there was light shining through the window above them.
The Midnight was gone.
“Now, I call that a stroke of luck,” said Eanrin, rising. The gloom was so intense, Imraldera could scarcely make out his form, much less his face. But his voice was as bright and relaxed as ever, giving no indication that he’d just been pursued by beasts of the Netherworld. “Not a sound of them! Shall I pop up for a peek?”
“Be my guest,” said Glomar.
But Imraldera, seeing the poet outlined against the window as he made to jump out, scrambled up and caught him by the foot. She feared that if he climbed out, the streets would shift again, and they would still be separated. He looked down at her, smiled, and seemed to recognize her concern. Rather than climbing all the way onto the sill, he merely held himself up and peered out.
“Sure enough,” he said, “the street has changed. For once the unsettled foundations of Etalpalli do us a favor! As far as I can discern, the Black Dogs are miles from here.”
He lowered himself down into the dark and sat with his back against the wall. It pleased him rather frighteningly when Imraldera settled in beside him, so near he could feel her warmth without touching her. How familiar that mortal smell of hers had become in so short a time. How nice to know she wasn’t dead.
Glomar’s rumbling voice carried through the dark. “You two seem to know each other. Will you introduce me, Eanrin?”
Eanrin, who disliked sharing, said shortly, “Glomar, Imraldera. Imraldera, Glomar,” and crossed his arms.
“Imraldera? A strange name for a mortal lass,” said Glomar. “I didn’t know mortal folk knew the Faerie speech. Is she—”
“She’s none of your business, that’s what she is.”
“I am beholden to her for saving my life,” the captain replied. Imraldera thought she heard his teeth grinding in the dark. “I was at the mercy of the Black Dogs, certain I was bound for the Netherworld. But she saved me. This little mortal maid with a Faerie name—where did you find her, Eanrin?”