The tracks took him down one tunnel and then another, each smaller and tighter than the last. Insects scurried from his light, but nothing large or loud enough to draw undue attention. For that, he was grateful. The last thing he needed was to disrupt a colony of screeching bats.
Twice he happened upon pocket caverns that looked to have served at one time as smuggler’s dens. To whom, and for what riches, he couldn’t say, for Kylac scurried through both quickly, pressing into the next tunnel. As intriguing as it might be to explore such hidden reaches of this ancient city, he had no time for ghosts or the traces of their past.
Upon emerging from the second, however, one of those ghosts took to following him. He did not hear or see or smell it, but felt it like a worm on the nape of his neck. A sensation he knew better than to ignore.
Someone was following him.
Xarius.
Kylac considered his options. He’d known from the outset that the elder student was unlikely to leave matters as they had in his chamber. But Kylac had hoped to move quickly enough to stay ahead of any delayed pursuit. It would seem he had failed. The question now was, how great a lead did he have? As reliable as his instincts were, he was still learning to interpret them. Xarius could be a hundred paces behind him, or a thousand. Should he hurry on, hoping to outpace the alarm? Or should he lie in wait and attempt to deal with his proud rival before becoming trapped?
By the time he found the cave-in exposing the entrance to the catacombs, Kylac’s warning sense was screaming. He decided there that he dared not allow Xarius to seal off his retreat. He still had to locate his father, and knew not what condition he might find him in. Should they have to limp from this labyrinth, Xarius would descend on them like an owl on a wounded mouse.
So he turned a tight corner and set down his brand upon a burial niche, then doubled back to conceal himself within an ornamental alcove thick with inky darkness. There he waited, single blade in hand.
He heard Xarius coming, the hasty fool. The steps were small and slight and strangely distorted by the warren’s walls, but Kylac detected them nonetheless. Had this been a skills test, Rohn might have had his prized student flogged.
Kylac crouched. The steps slowed. His pursuer eased across the threshold of broken stones that marked the boundary between mine and catacombs, a hooded form that Kylac sensed more than saw. He waited for it to turn the corner, to bend toward the distant pool of light. It did so tentatively, producing a long sliver of metal…
Kylac pounced, clamping a hand around Xarius’s mouth and pressing the tip of his blade against a kidney. He might have driven deeper, given Xarius a wound to fully contemplate…but suddenly, everything was wrong. The body’s size, scent, the way it tensed, and the tone of its startled squeak.
“Brie?”
He stepped back, aghast. Brie turned, relief reflecting in her features before being shoved aside by an indignant pout. “That hurt,” she hissed.
Hurt? He had almost skewered her. “What are you doing here?” was all he could think to ask.
“To aid you, fool.”
“You followed me?”
“No, lackwit, I burrowed down through one of the crypts above. Of course I followed you.”
“How did you…? How could you…?” He watched a smug smile stretch across her face. “Brie, you have to go back.”
The smile vanished. “Back? Certainly. Just as soon as we’re finished here.”
“It wasn’t a question, Brie. Turn around right—”
“Touch me and I’ll scream. I swear I will, Kylac. And draw whoever’s down here on top of you, given the echo in this place.”
“You’re mad, is that it?”
“No more than you. I wasn’t going to watch you run off and never even know what happened to you. Together, we stand a better chance.” She bent to retrieve the burning brand from the burial niche. “How many of them are there, do you think?”
Kylac was livid. “Forget it. I’m hauling you straight back to the surface.”
“You’ll have to truss me up. And that’ll take time I’m guessing we don’t have, given your terrible haste to get down here.”
She was correct about that much. He might render her unconscious…and then what? Leave her in a burial niche and hope no one found her? Pray she didn’t wake and raise a stir?
“How long must you stand there gaping?” she asked him. “Master Rohn has to be wondering by now if anyone means to free him.”
There would be no second chance at this—or at least, none that Kylac could risk. Fool! he wanted to shout. You blind, arrogant fool! Only, he was unsure who deserved it more, Brie or himself.
Kylac stepped toward her. Brie shied back, looking as if she might actually cry out. He glowered for a moment, then snatched the brand from her hand before she could blink.
“Stay behind me,” he commanded, “and keep silent.”
Brie grinned slyly. “I managed it this far.”
Kylac shouldered past. “Should you get yourself killed, don’t expect me to weep.”