The Hidden City

time,’ she murmured. ‘There’s no loyalty among slaves. One slave will betray another for an extra crust of bread.’
    ‘How sad.’
    ‘Slavery? I could find harsher words than sad.’
    ‘Let’s go,’ Sparhawk told them.
    ‘How are we going to find Xanetia?’ Kalten whispered as they crossed the pen.
    ‘We can’t. She’s going to have to find us.’
    It took Talen only a moment to unlock the gate, and they all slipped out into the dark street beyond. They crept along that street to the large square where the firewood was stacked and stopped before stepping out into the open.
    ‘Take a look, Talen,’ Sparhawk suggested.
    ‘Right.’ The young thief melted away into the darkness. The rest of them waited tensely.
    ‘It’s all clear,’ Talen’s whisper came to them after a few minutes. ‘The carts are over here.’
    They followed the sound of his hushed voice and soon reached the line of wood-carts leaning against the wall.
    ‘Did you see any guards?’ Kalten asked.
    ‘Who’s going to stay up all night to guard a wood pile?’ Talen dropped down onto his stomach and wormed his way under the cart. There was a faint creaking of the tightly-woven limbs of the makeshift basket. ‘Here,’ Talen said. A sword-tip banged against Sparhawk’s shin.
    Sparhawk took the sword, handed it to Kalten and then leaned down. ‘Pass them out hilt-first,’ he instructed. ‘Don’t poke me with the sharp end of a sword that way.’
    ‘I’ll try.’ Talen continued to pass out weapons and then followed them with their mail-shirts and tunics. They all felt better once they were armed again.
    ‘Anakha?’ The voice was soft and very light.
    ‘Is that you, Xanetia?’ Sparhawk realized how foolish the question was almost before it left his lips.
    ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Come away, I prithee. The whisper is the natural voice of stealth, and it doth carry far by night. Let us be gone ere they who watch this sleeping city come hither in search of the source of our incautious conversation.’
    ‘We’re going to have to wait a bit,’ Khalad said. ‘Aphrael has to blow air into that cave.’
    ‘Are you sure this is going to work?’ Berit asked dubiously.
    ‘No, not really, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?’
    ‘You don’t even know for sure that they’re still inside the cave.’
    ‘That doesn’t really matter. Either way they won’t be able to hide in the cave any more.’ Khalad began to carefully wrap a length of oil-soaked rag around one of his crossbow bolts. Then, being careful to conceal the sparks with his body, he began striking his flint and steel together. After a moment, his tinder caught, he lit his stub of a candle, and brushed the fire out of his tinder. Then he carefully put the candle behind a fair-sized rock.
    ‘Aphrael seems to be unhappy about this, Khalad,’ Berit said as a chill breeze came up.
    ‘I wasn’t too happy about what happened to Lord Abriel either,’ Khalad replied bleakly. ‘I had a great deal of respect for that old man, and these monsters with yellow blood tore him to pieces.’
    ‘You’re doing this for revenge then?’
    ‘No. Not really. This is just the most practical way to get rid of them. Ask Aphrael to let me know when there’s enough air in the cave.’
    ‘How long is that likely to take?’
    ‘I have no idea. All the coal-miners who’ve ever seen it up close are dead.’ Khalad scratched at his beard. ‘I’m not entirely sure what’s going to happen here, Berit. When marsh-gas catches on fire, it just burns off and goes out. Firedamp’s a little more spectacular.’
    ‘What’s all this business about blowing air into the cave?’ Berit demanded.
    ‘Khalad shrugged. ‘Fire’s a living thing. It has to be able to breathe.’
    ‘You’re just guessing about this, aren’t you? You don’t have any idea at all whether or not it’s going to work—or if it does, what’s going to happen.’
    Khalad gave him a tight grin. ‘I’ve got a good working theory.’
    ‘I think you’re insane. You could set the whole desert on fire with this silly experiment of yours.’
    ‘Oh, that probably won’t happen.’
    ‘Probably?’
    ‘It’s very unlikely. I can just make out that cave mouth. Why don’t I try it?’
    ‘What happens if you miss?’
    Khalad shrugged. ‘I’ll shoot again.”
    ‘That’s not what I meant. I was—’ Berit broke off, listening intently. ‘Aphrael says that the mixture’s right now. You can shoot whenever