The poor guard floundered for a bit before falling limp in my grasp. I lowered him to the ground and stepped back to see Ferris grinning at me.
"Who are you, really?"
"A woman who's very upset without her sword," I grumbled, motioning for him to lead.
Slipping into the hall, Ferris darted away. There was nothing down here save the seat the guard had been sleeping on, the other cell block, and a pair of heavy doors that led outside. Ferris paused beside them, listening for movement on the other side.
I waited with him, flexing my wrist. There couldn't be more than one or two more guards in the front. Armed with the element of surprise, we could probably disarm them without a fight.
There was silence for a moment, then a door swinging open and a shout.
"Who . . . ? Stop!" A man yelled.
I heard pounding footfalls and the ring of steel being drawn.
Was someone attacking the guard outside? We both shrank from the door, anticipating trouble.
Whatever was happening outside, it didn't follow us in here. A sword cut through flesh—I knew that sound well. Death gurgles followed, and the thud of a body hitting the floor.
I reached for the door, but Ferris caught my elbow and pulled me back. A loud creak sounded, and retreating footsteps echoed on the stone floors. Then, stillness.
Pulling from his grip, I flew through the door. My boot sloshed into a pool of blood. A guard lay face down on the floor, fresh scarlet pouring from the wound on his back. Falling to his side, I felt for a pulse, but he'd already passed.
"Well, shit," Ferris breathed.
I studied the guard. He'd died quickly—stabbed straight through his heart. His tabard had been pushed aside, and his keyring was missing from his belt.
"They took his keys," I noted.
"Why? They didn't break into the cells."
Standing, I glanced around and noticed a desk tucked in the corner—and the sword lying across it. Grabbing it, I pulled the blade loose from its sheath to ensure it was mine.
Thank goodness. I never would have forgiven myself had I lost Akemi's blade.
Faint noises carried from upstairs—the rapping of feet against the floor above us.
"We need to get out of here," Ferris said, making for the steps. "Before they pin this murder on us."
"What's going on upstairs?" I asked.
"Winter's Tide. Tonight's the second ball."
My eyes snapped to the ceiling. My family's manor had a hatch leading into the basement dungeons—a relic from the days when the continent hadn't been united under the Empire.
Only our family knew it was there. And while the governor's manors were well guarded, the prisons beneath them rarely were.
There.I could see the edges of the hatch drawing a faint square in the smooth stone ceiling.
Sneaking into a party populated with nobles could only mean one thing.
"Whoever they are, they're here to kill someone," I murmured, attaching my sword back to my belt.
Ferris froze, eyes darting around. "Then . . . then we should go after them."
Unlocking the hatch's keyhole jarred it loose from the ceiling, allowing it to be pulled open or closed. If it was still flush with the ceiling, the assailant had locked it behind them.
"Can't. They locked it behind them." Whirling around, I found the dungeon's exit: a pair of stairs leading to a heavy door. Flying up them, I pushed outside.
