The men fell through, landing upon the barrels and crates that had been stacked below, still moving, but not rising to their feet. Their legs were broken. And he was not well either. He gripped the edge of the wood, fighting the blackness at the edge of his vision.
He gathered himself and returned to the room. ‘Come, hurry,’ he said, and when Rushes came closer he took the baby and clasped her hand. On the landing he guided her around the chasm and showed her where the steps began, all the while listening for Adam.
‘They’re not dead?’ she asked.
‘No, just hurt.’
‘Kill them.’
Farid felt a pang of horror. He had never taken a life – he did not know how to thrust metal past bone and into living flesh. ‘No. Come on, let’s hurry.’
But she paused, then whispered, ‘I have to get to the palace.’
With all the strange things that had happened to him he did not find this as unbelievable as he might have. ‘All right.’
They made their way to the bottom and looked around the dark room. Someone was watching them: he knew it. Someone was there, in the shadows, but whoever it was made no effort to intervene. He opened the door and peered out, then cast one last look into the shadows before pushing Rushes through and stepping out into the Maze.
You will help me, but first you need to escape. The words hung over his victory as he ran towards the river, the babe in his arms and Rushes pounding after. Adam had let him go, but he wanted it to look like an escape. Everything so far had proceeded as Adam wished, and he did not know why, or what might come next. After they had run a few blocks he heard shouts, the clash of weapons and running feet. Were they being chased? But the tang of smoke carried on the air, suggesting another sort of conflict. He slowed, taking each step more carefully, listening to see which path might be safest.
‘Mogyrk scum!’ someone shouted, and the epithet was punctuated by a crash. Shortly afterwards cheers rang out, celebrating some small victory. A group of men ran Farid’s way and he pressed himself against the wall, pushing Rushes behind him. They hurried past, too busy fleeing Blue Shields to pay them any mind. Farid got them all into a doorway just as the soldiers rounded the corner, pounding after the first group. He realised one second before the guards did that they had run into an ambush: stones and jeers pelted down from the rooftops as rebels entered the street from both ends. They were well-armed, and smiling.
Farid pressed himself further into the shadows.
The guards were well trained and made of themselves a circle, using their shields to protect and defend, but the rebels were too many and soon the Blue Shields were bloody and limping. Farid still had his knife and he drew it from his belt, gripping the handle hard. If the rebels should notice his little group, come after the girl, Rushes … To defend her would mean certain death. He could take out one of the rebels, maybe two, before they overwhelmed him – but what choice did he have? He watched the fight, deciding how he would use his blade when they came, gathering his nerve. It was then more soldiers entered the fray, coming from the riverside, fresh and ready to fight, and he drew back into the shadows, feeling a fool. He was no fighter, nor a hero.
The rebels scattered and the Blue Shields gathered their wounded. Farid did not move. He held a finger to Rushes’ lips, waiting for the road to clear. It was then one of the soldiers caught sight of him, and motioned to the rest of his men. ‘Look here, we got some more hiding.’
‘We weren’t with them,’ Farid said.
‘Look, it’s a little family.’ The man looked past him to where Rushes sat, the baby in her arms.
‘We were trying to get to—’ Where? The marketplace and his apartments were the other way. Who would believe they were on their way to the palace? ‘—the guard station.’
‘The guard station’s on fire. Did you light the match?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but there are Mogyrks in the Maze who likely did it.’
‘Listen to this man!’ laughed the soldier. ‘He’s a scholar!’
Farid approached him, palms turned out, knowing it was important to convince these soldiers, knowing Adam must be captured and quickly. ‘Look, I can show you where they are.’
‘You trying to draw us in? Get us surrounded like last time?’
‘I told you, we’re not with them.’
Another soldier, older, came to stand beside the first, and Farid was struck by his eyes, blue beneath grey bushy eyebrows. ‘What’s your name, son?’
‘Farid.’
The first soldier took a step back and hooted. ‘Not the Farid we’re looking for? That would be some luck.’