“We’re not going to end up trapped here.” Oscar reached a door at the back of the kitchen. He paused, pulling it open just a crack, and then leaned out. “Come on.”
They stepped out into an alley. Even the alley in this part of the city spoke of wealth. It shouldn’t be so clean. It needed to stink like a proper alley did. Oscar motioned for them to head to the right, away from the streets that Rock guarded and where the Archer patrolled.
“I know a shortcut through the alleys,” Finn suggested.
“No shortcuts,” he said. “We finished the job. Now we have to regroup. You know the time we’re meeting.” He waited for Finn to nod. “All you’ve got to do is…”
They had reached the end of the alley, and Oscar blocked Finn from going any further.
Another Archer.
“They shouldn’t be patrolling here so heavily,” he muttered.
“Maybe the merchants pay them?”
Oscar shook his head softly. “I don’t know. Something’s not right.” He looked over his shoulder. “Take the alley to the end, and if it’s open, get moving.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to try something different.”
“I’m not going to leave you to get pinched here, Oscar.”
Oscar frowned at him. “Whoever said I was going to get pinched? This isn’t like what happened to your father, Finn.”
Oscar gave him a shove, and Finn went stumbling down the alley. When he was about halfway down the alley, he looked back to see Oscar bending down, seemingly fidgeting with his boots.
A shadow moved along the street. One of the Archers.
Oscar continued working on his boots.
Finn hurried along the alley, passing the doorway to the home they had come through, and he hesitated for a moment. If he darted through there, he could end up back on the other side…
The door started to come open.
Finn raced down the alley.
When he reached the other end of the alley, he paused, pressing his back up against the wall. Maybe he’d been wrong about dressing up for this job. It might’ve been easier to be in his darks. At least then he could sneak through the alleys like a proper thief.
He didn’t see any movement.
He didn’t see Rock, either.
He was supposed to be standing guard, but maybe he’d gone off when he realized that Finn and Oscar had slipped away. It was harder to keep watch in the middle of the day. Especially for somebody like Rock. With his size, just standing around was noticeable.
Finn didn’t see anything.
He started out of the alley.
Finn hazarded a glance back, looking along the street where they’d been. The cobbled road was clean, and all of the homes along here were well maintained. They were nice. Almost too nice.
He headed away. Now that he was out in the open, he needed to keep moving.
He tried to look casual and look as if he belonged, but he feared his discomfort drew attention.
As he neared the end of the street, a voice shouted after him. “You. Hold!”
He looked back and saw the Archer who had been patrolling the street coming toward him.
Where was Rock? What about Oscar?
He had a few choices here. He could run, which meant the Archer would chase him, or he could wait.
Only he couldn’t.
He’d taken the stupid silver sculpture out of the home. Had he not, then he could have waited. The Archer wouldn’t have had anything on him.
Finn spun and ran.
He darted along the street, reaching another alley, and slipped along it. He had scouted through here with Oscar, and he knew these alleys. If he remembered it right, this alley would veer off soon.
He turned, following the alley.
The sound of boots on stones thundered behind him.
Finn raced forward, taking a hard right as he rounded deeper into the alleyway. The network of alleys wound throughout the city, and regardless of Oscar’s hesitation with using them, they did shave time off travels. Heading in this way, he thought that he could tell where he needed to go and anticipated that there would be another side street, but he didn’t come across it.
The alley ended.
Shit.
He turned back.
Rather than taking a right, what he’d needed was to turn left. Now he remembered.
Would there be time?
The thundering of Archer's boots on the stones didn’t sound quite as loud now, but he didn’t know if he could backtrack and get where he needed to go.
Racing the way he’d come, he caught a shadow of movement from the other alley as he raced through the small intersection, following the narrow path and then out into the street.
He could hear the Archer behind him.
Finn didn’t slow. He might be the newest in the crew, but he was also the fastest. Now was the time to use that to his advantage.
He had to be careful. Now wasn’t the time to head straight back to the Wenderwolf. The tavern had enough attention from city Archers. They didn’t need him to bring the palace Archers into the mix. And it wasn’t even the right time to meet.
Find the festival. Blend in. That would be how he’d keep out of the reach of the Archer.
The sounds in the distance loomed nearer.
Finn could hear the festivities and raced toward them.
When he reached the first of the streets where the Blood Court would parade down, he slowed, winding into the crowd. He risked a look back and saw the Archer still heading in his direction. Each turn he made seemed followed by the Archer.
It was the clothing he wore.
While it might fit in within the city center where they’d intended the job, it didn’t fit quite so much out here near the Teller Gate, where everyone squeezed out to watch the execution. He should have headed toward the palace. At least there he would have been better able to blend in with others.
What he needed was to get farther into the crowd.
Finn passed a cluster of young women, flashing a smile at them. One of them, a curvy redhead, smiled back. He offered a rueful shrug and hurried along the street. When he reached the vendors, he veered in front of them. They bought him a little time. A younger woman at a pastry stand watched him a moment before glancing behind Finn.
He turned to see the Archer still chasing.
Damn it.
Maybe he could hide. All he needed was a way to sneak through here and avoid attention. There had to be someplace where he could blend in. The crowd was thick enough to mask his presence.
Shouts rang out from hawkers selling their wares. The smell of baked breads, sweet treats, even roasted meats all came to him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the Archer behind him, weaving through the crowd. They separated around the Archer, giving him space.
“Traitors,” he muttered. This was his section of the city. Shouldn’t they protect me?
He ducked behind one of the carts.
Then he waited. Staying there might be risky, but what he needed was for the Archer to get ahead of him. Let the Archer lose him in the crowd. When he did, Finn could disappear. Then he could head back to the tavern where he hoped Oscar had already returned and figure out what happened to Rock.
The sound of boots along the stones came louder. Finn fixated on that sound, focusing on it over the roar of the crowd, the hawkers calling out their wares, and even that of a steady chanting.
The chanting was new.
The procession of the Blood Court.