But I had never felt so alive, so awake.
Eurydice knew the truth. She knew it, finally and completely, and she had come to me. Her fingers in my hair were a gift. Her lips on my forehead were a benediction.
I would never forgive myself. But she had forgiven me.
The streets were so familiar, I could have closed my eyes andnavigated by the smell. We passed down the metalworkers’ corridor—ozone and coal dust. We turned onto the Tanners’ Row—lye and wet hide. After some time we came to a pub close to the middle wall, wedged by the sewers and the mountain.
“The Floodgate,” she said as we approached. “Clever.”
“You’ll find no greater toxic sludge.” I pushed open the door for her. “And it always has a free room.”
Inside, the pub was dead empty. The chairs sat upside down on the dark-wood tables, the counter had been wiped clean, no noise sounded from the kitchen. For all the effort, the place was rank; the smell of the sewers could penetrate any window.
The shutters were all buttoned up, and only one candelabra burned low on a wall. Good.
I called out for the owner, but no answer. After twenty seconds, footsteps above us. The floorboards creaked, followed by a tumbling as though someone were falling down the stairs. An old man in rumpled nightclothes soon appeared, quick-stepping down. He rubbed at his hair and his eyes shifted from me to Eury. His cheeks pinked. “Who the hell comes at dawn?”
“Door was unlocked,” I said. “You have a room?”
“Well, yes?—”
“We’ll take it for the night,” Eury said.
“The day and the night,” I added.
His fat brows lowered, eyes darting between us. I didn’t know this specific man, but I knew his type. The inner district possessed two classes: highborn and those who called themselves lowborn, who acted as though they lived in the outer districts even though they had never set foot in them.
He perceived us as highborn. It was our cloaks and leathers.
“Ten gold,” he said.
“I’ll give you fifteen”—I pulled the coins from my belt pouch—“if you bring us three square meals, set them at the door, and you never saw us.”
The gleam of the three coins under the candlelight, movingbetween my fingers, got his head nodding. “Never did see your like. That’s true.”
That meant everyone he knew would know we were here within a day. That was fine; we wouldn’t stay that long.
His attitude was much improved as he led us up the narrow staircase. He took us to the corner room, opened the door, and ushered us with one hand on the knob. Inside, a bare room: one bed barely big enough for the two of us, an end table, a shuttered window, a chair.
“Breakfast starts in an hour,” he said. “Don’t suppose you’ll want that.”
“Lunch, dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast,” I said, and passed him the gold.
In five minutes he had the room done up for us. A candelabra on the side table, all three wicks burning, and the bed’s cover turned down. He left us alone with a click of the door.
Eurydice stood by the bed, back to me, her fingers touching the patterned coverlet. Her braid hung over one shoulder, her form so beautiful I either had to approach or force my gaze away.
I had never wanted to touch her more. I had never felt greater responsibility.
“We should sleep.” Every word felt stilted. “After sunset we’ll go down.”
She met eyes over her shoulder. “Back to the sewers?”
“Deeper than that.” I unclasped my cloak. “Much deeper.”
She turned fully toward me. “There’s nothing under the city. It’s all rock down there.”
I threw my cloak onto the chair. “You’re right about the rock.” She stared, even as I went about removing my leather jerkin. “The bed is yours,” I said.