Move confidently into the unsuspecting crowd.
It’s not long before I spot more Overseers swiftly navigating in the direction of the destroyed entrance, but I use the skills Netiqret taught me to their full effect here. Pause when I have to, slow or speed up incrementally, weave and blend seamlessly. The people here know something’s happened; Duat’s eastern entryway is only a few streets over and the crashing of rubble is not something that’s often heard in the city. But no one seems to notice anything about me. No one seems to be looking for anyone in particular.
I progress unnoticed for almost ten minutes before reaching the tunnel entrance,gasping my relief as it seals shut again behind me. Heart still pounding, but the first part is done.
As I catch my shaking breath, I can’t help but wonder again at whether the information the Nomarch gave me can actually be trusted. I would once have assumed that after seeing what my weapons can do, Ka’s systems would naturally tighten security around him—regardless of what came after. No matter what disruption threatened the city.
I suppose I’m about to find out, either way.
I strip away the bloodied cloth around my hands and then take up the crook and flail again, gripping grimly as thethrumthunders through the triangular passageway. I don’t expect to run into trouble, but it’s too narrow down here to react quickly if I do.
The low roof makes me stoop as I hurry along, the humming pulse of my weapons echoing in front of me. No one appears, though; a taut and anxious hour later, I’m finding my way through the hidden entrance Netiqret first showed me, then beneath the river and up into the west.
When I finally emerge from the base of a green-lit obelisk, not fifty feet from the Infernis, all seems quiet.
I take a breath, ignoring the fresh burning in my lungs from proximity to the green-lit water. The razor-thin black bridge across it, not far away either, is empty at the moment. This angle shows again that it has no supports, no columns at all to hold it up.
It’s Duat’s artery. Its jugular. Aside from the secret, broken ways below, it is the only path between east and west.
I collect the fresh white cloth I left stashed for the purpose, wrap myself again, and make my way to the bridge’s entrance. There are few iunctii out at this hour, most still working. None give me a second glance.
When I come within sight of the bridge, though, three Overseers are waiting.
Vek. Better than the usual half dozen that guard the way across, but I was hoping my disturbance earlier might have drawn more away; if it had, there was a chance I could have used another iunctus and gained access without even alerting the Nomarch. No time to second-guess myself now, though. Three won’t stop me, but nor can I prevent them from sending for reinforcements.
Once I start, I’m going to have to be quick.
I cut away the wrapping on my palms. Reopen the wounds with agritted-teeth hiss. Then I walk toward the Overseers. Posture deferent until the last second, when I reach beneath my robe with bloodied hands.
The Overseers see the threat, and attack.
Slide to the right and slash.Flicker.Thrum. Roll under a swipe and stab.Flicker.Thrum. Stumble to my feet and meet an overhead strike; the woman’s blade becomes dust and I lunge forward through the red mist created by the other two corpses, crook taking her in the forehead.Flicker.Thrum.
It’s over in ten seconds. I stand there, panting, hand cupped over my mouth, doing everything I can not to inhale the crimson that falls gently to the ground around me. I’m becoming gradually inured to the horror of these weapons, but the quivering piles of flesh around me still make my stomach twist. Still drag me back to the naumachia.
I don’t have time to linger on it, though.
I start onto the bridge.
My footsteps echo, the only other sound the rushing of water far below. I jog, leaving red footprints in my wake. Awfully, awfully exposed up here between the massive statues that line the way. But the bridge is long. I can see flashes of black in the distance where Overseers from the opposite side are running toward me.
I’m far enough in. Well over the water. I stop and without hesitation, plunge my crook down onto the reflective surface beneath me.
There’s the barest of resistance. A deepthrum.
Cracks spiderweb out from the point of contact, a terrifying splintering sound accompanying the sight. A groaning, and then shards of shimmering stone crumble and begin the long fall to the green-tinted poison below.
I take a heartbeat to feel my relief, and start dragging the crook along the width of the bridge.
There’s a screaming, a rending. The Overseers will be sprinting but they’re still thousands of feet away. My weapon carves more from the bridge. More. Dust cakes to the blood on my face and clothes, turning it from red to an ugly dark brown.
I finish with a last, triumphant hacking motion, a clear line of air now between the eastern and western sections of stone.
Nothing happens.
I gather myself, then step over the narrow gap and stamp forcefully. The bridge doesn’t budge.
“Alright,” I mutter, breath short with anxiousness.
