The door opened, and I practically jumped to the ceiling, my elbow knocking against the shelf, causing the bottles to rattle.
Rada’s head poked inside. “We’re clear. Keep up and don’t fall behind.” He rushed down the alleyway, and we charged after him.
Through more alleyways we ran, then over a bridge and finally to a tunnel hidden behind some bushes and cut into the side of the cliffs.
“The tunnel here is more rustic than the one you arrived in, but it’s safer.” Rada moved a fake bush from the entrance.
“A Talpar tunnel,” I said.
“It is.” He leaned the bush against a boulder.
“We appreciate your assistance,” Edgar said before disappearing through the carved-out entry.
“When the time comes,” Rada said to me, “Veilig will stand with you. On your quest for the other heirs’ blood, be careful. Santara is in upheaval, Mantello cannot be trusted, nor can Esteril. Tearmann is our ally. With Philip removed, I’m not sure who you can trust in Asile. But I have written a name for each haven.” He handed me a rolled piece of parchment. “Seek them out, and they will aid you. Go as thieves in the night and keep hidden.”
“Thank you.” I stuffed it into my boot with the canister.
“What have you heard from Couve?” Bastien asked.
Rada’s eyes held empathy. “Augustin has appointed Odil as his commander. The French Sentinels took your mother to the Shelter, and she is safe. Your people suffer laws and restrictions Gareth never imposed on them.”
Gareth. He was Bastien’s father and the High Wizard of Couve before he was murdered when Conemar’s little army attacked the haven. Odil had fallen in love with Veronique and had joined Conemar’s cause because of her. Hearing about his mother and people suffering had to be difficult for Bastien.
But in spite of his pain, Bastien smiled. “I am grateful to you. Please extend our gratitude to Enitan and Akua. It is my hope that the troubles in the Mystik world won’t lead to war.”
“It is my hope, as well.” Rada bowed and watched us enter the tunnel.
With the mud packed walls surrounding me, it felt like being in a grave. Not that I knew what being in one felt like, but I assumed this would be it, except tighter. Hours passed, and it felt as though we’d never arrive at the end.
The closer we got to Mantello, the louder the city just above our heads sounded. Exposed pipes on the ceiling of the tunnel shook and rattled.
A screeching groan traveled through the tunnel, followed by a loud crack. The walls shook, chunks of dirt sliding down the sides. A gush sounded behind us, and I turned. A strong current of water rushed in, knocking us off our feet.
Chapter Sixteen
Tumbling in the rushing water, mud caking my face and stinging my eyes, I tried to grab on to one of the roots sticking out of the wall, but came up short. I reached out again and caught one, my grasp slipping. My knee slammed against the ground and pain shot up my thigh. Another root brushed against my other hand, and I grabbed it, my body banging into the wall.
Bastien snatched one beside me. “Use the roots to scale the wall,” he yelled over the rushing water. “It isn’t far to the other tunnel.”
The knot from the rope securing the cloak around my neck dug into my throat. I grabbed root after root, my boots sliding down the wall as I tried to get a foothold. Edgar made it to the other tunnel. We were moving upward so the water sped down the passage going the other way.
When I reached him, Edgar grabbed my arm and tugged me to safety and then turned back to help Bastien. Drenched, muddy, and cold, I leaned against the wall and gulped in the dank air.
Bastien bent over and grabbed his side. “That was unfortunate. Are you hurt?”
“If I get swept away by one more flood”—I took a breath—“I’m giving up.”
“A water main must have broken,” Edgar said, wiping the mud from his face. “Let’s find an exit before something else happens.”
After recovering from the wet and wild ride, we followed the Talpar tunnel to a nearby exit. We climbed up a poorly constructed ladder and through a manhole into the city. Water and mud dripped from my hair and clothes, and I loosened the cloak’s tie around my neck. Edgar shut the manhole cover. The tiles on it were arranged in a beautiful mosaic design.
We were in an alley. The back doors on either side of the road were different sizes and colors. I’d been to Mantello before with Bastien and Nick. We’d come for a trial and spent an evening at the festival there.
Edgar had many allies in the haven. He actually had them all over the Mystik world.
“This way.” Edgar traipsed down the uneven cobblestones. By the slump of his shoulders and the shuffle of his feet, he was tired. We were all exhausted, actually, and I wondered if we could keep going, but then he added, “There’s an inn down the way. We can get cleaned up, have a meal, and get a good night’s sleep.”
Bastien draped his arm around my shoulder. “What’s on your mind? The night we spent here, I’m assuming.”
I decided to play coy. “No. Just how muddy you are. You look like a sewer rat. And you’re not always on my mind, you know.” My lip twitched.
“Ah, your little quirk gives you away, mon amour.”
“Aren’t you two adorable.” Edgar’s whisper held disdain. “Maybe you can save your lovey-dovey crap until we are safely out of sight and you’re a bit cleaner.”
Bastien removed his arm and walked silently beside me. We took turns sneaking glances at each other. He’d smile, and I’d smile back. Yeah, he knew I was thinking about the night we spent in Mantello. And I was happy that he knew, because that meant he was reliving it, too.
Lights flickered behind curtained windows. Our boots clacked across the cobblestones, echoing off the tall slanted buildings. The alley was dark, except when we passed under the bloom of a streetlamp here and there.
We came to the end of the rows of homes. Edgar eased out into the adjoining road and glanced left, then right, before waving us over. He rushed across the cobbles to a dilapidated building just down the way. The name of the place flashed over the top of the building. Nightfall Inn. A sign in the door said only Mystiks were welcomed there.
Edgar opened the door and rushed us inside. To the right was an old-looking tavern filled with various creatures from the Mystik covens. On the other side, there was a reception counter with a wiry boy wearing thick glasses behind it.
“We only have one room available this evening,” the boy said, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading.
“One will do,” Edgar said, which made me shoot a startled look at him.
The boy thought it was odd, too, because he looked up from the page he was on and puckered his lips. “You’re filthy. We don’t let your kind stay here.”
“What?” I snapped. “Our kind? That’s pretty rude.”
Bastien stepped in front of me. “We’re tired from our travels. We obviously had an accident and need to wash.”