“To the place you dreamed of.” He passed through the doorway. “The inner district.”
But therewasno entry to the inner district. Not unless we passed under the portcullis, which only certain guard and high-ranking citizens could…
Yet I followed. I followed like a moth after his light.
The passageway was cramped, the ceiling so low Dorian had to duck. I brushed my fingertips over it; the stone was frigid.
“What is this?” My voice echoed backward and forward.
“You don’t suppose the portcullises would be the only means of getting between districts.”
“Of course I would. The city is perfectly walled—outer, middle, inner.” I paused. “And how wouldyouknow? Were you killing highborn changelings, too?”
That was sharp—too sharp. But I couldn’t take it back. I didn’t blame him for not answering.
My ears pricked to a strange sound. Constant, soft, tinkling— “Is that running water?”
“It’s no Virellan Falls.”
“There’s no running water in our kingdom,” I said. “Nothing like the falls.”
“I saw the well in your barracks yard.”
“That connects to a river deep underground.”
We came to another door, and Dorian opened that one with a shoulder against it and a grunt. The sound of moving water became clearer. He stepped onto a narrow stone walkway and gestured me forward.
Beyond the door, torchlight illuminated an underground passageway running perpendicular to our tunnel. Water ran past our feet in a wide groove. I stared, inhaled, gagged.
I backed away, pressing a hand to my nose and mouth. “What the fuck is that?”
“Like I said”—Dorian swept the torchlight around—“it’s no Virellan Falls.”
I remained where I stood. “It’s like the whole kingdom took a shit in here.”
“Because they did. Well, the wealthier ones.” He disappeared from the doorway. “Let’s make this quick.”
I came back onto the landing, my breath held. This was similar to the hollows running alongside every street in my district, where the rains flowed and people dumped their privy pots. Except this was a hollow for a giant. A city of them.
Twenty paces down the walkway, Dorian set his crystal between his teeth and began climbing a ladder. It ran upward to a slatted hole; moonlight slanted through it into the tunnel.
I didn’t hesitate. I kept my breath held and moved.
By the time I’d climbed the ladder, Dorian had paused at the top to listen and clearly decided we were alone. He pushed aside the slatting with a metallic groan, climbed out, and reached back for me.
I took his hand, and he lifted me the rest of the way out. The godsawful smell followed like a haunting spirit. Maybethatwas what Theo had encountered.
Dorian knelt to replace the grate, but I hardly noticed.
Before me, a wide nighttime street lay in perfect, quiet repose. The buildings were familiar—slanted, shingled roofs; acid-worn shutters—but everything feltbetter.Alike, but better. The street straight and wider, fewer cobblestones broken, none of the shutters hanging or shingles missing.
The street ran on and on, straight to a sight I’d only imagined.
The portcullis to the castle. The center of the Kingdom of Storms.
Dorian slid the grate back to place, the noise breaking the nighttime quiet like a knife through silk. He rose, wiping his hands. “We don’t have much time before sunrise.”
It had taken a full minute to drag my eyes off the castle. It was more beautiful than Highmark’s citadel, with spires and turrets better than the drawings I’d seen as a child. The sigil flapped atop its highest point, a white banner with the three interlocking circles.