“It would probably be wise to return you to your chamber,” the professor said. “The night is waning. Wouldn’t mind a little sleep myself before the full of day begins.”

They found Cade going through cooling down exercises. He flicked his gaze at the bonewood in Karigan’s hands. “Is that wise?” he asked the professor.

“Her bad leg requires support.”

Cade arched an eyebrow.

Karigan wondered if he thought her incompetent in its handling, or just didn’t trust her. No, he wouldn’t think her incompetent, for he’d seen her use hers in the alley that first night. She could not resist a jibe: “Are you afraid of me?”

He scowled, but to his credit did not rise to her bait.

“Well,” she said in the face of his silence, “considering what I’ve seen of your moves so far, you should be.” With that she walked away, not waiting for either of the men, the tip of the bonewood tapping on the floor as she went.

She heard some angry, hushed mutters from Cade behind her, and she smiled. The professor responded in a calm voice with, “We shall discuss it later, Old Button.”

Before Karigan had gotten very far, the professor caught up with her. “I’ve your taper,” he said, “and will carry it since you’ve the bonewood to hold onto.”

She was relieved, because she also had that shard of mirror closed in her fist beneath her shawl and, with her broken wrist, would not have been able to carry another thing.

“Cade will follow in a little while. He’ll close up behind us.”

Karigan glanced back and observed as he put away his practice weapons, shoving them with more force than necessary. Yes, she had irked him. Her smile deepened.

They traveled down, down, down, back into the earth, which proved more tiresome to Karigan and harder on her leg than going up had been. The professor tried to assist her where he could, but on the narrow stairs she was pretty much on her own. When finally they reached the very bottom stair, which ended on the first floor of the building in the underground city, they paused to catch their breath. Karigan was really tired now. Her days in bed had sapped her strength and endurance, despite her efforts to remain limber and in condition.

The light of the taper cast sharp, intersecting shadows of the support beams across the walls and ceiling. It gleamed dully on broken pieces of pottery scattered across the floor.

“Is all of Sacor City underground?” she asked. Her own voice sounded close, damped down.

“Er, no,” the professor replied. “In the coming days I’ll show you what remains above ground. It’s mainly the lower parts of the south side that are buried.”

Abruptly he left the building, puffs of dust rising in his wake. Karigan hastened after him before the cage of shadows closed in on her. The professor stopped in the middle of what had once been the Winding Way, gazing at the facades of buildings.

“It was a stroke of luck, really, finding this place,” he told her when she reached him. “I knew, of course, that parts of old Sacor City lay beneath Mill City, so I did some test digs looking for artifacts, surreptitiously, mind. Found the occasional pot or horse shoe, a copper coin or two. Whenever anything is built over the old remains, objects are found, old walls and chimneys, a few interesting objects here and there. But nothing like this with buildings intact.”

“Did you find this with one of your test digs?”

“I had excavated to a certain level through all manner of rock and rubble and was resting at the bottom of my pit when I felt a breath of air from the earth. It had that unmistakable dank odor of wet stone and dirt. I found the hole and tapped my shovel round it, and the ground crumbled beneath my feet, and I fell through.” He laughed hard, and the sound seemed to raise dust. “By whatever graces still exist in the heavens, the fall did not kill me, nor was I buried alive.”

They started walking along the street. Their reflections in clouded windows startled Karigan, as if she saw ghosts who inhabited the ruins.

“Naturally I explored,” the professor said, “and was astonished this pocket of preserved city appeared to extend as far as the Josston Mills Complex, number four. That’s when I decided to build my house adjacent to the hole I’d fallen through. I needed to be able to do an extensive study of the site, and I thought it might prove useful in other ways, which it has.”

“As a secret corridor to the mill.”

“Exactly. The elite of the Capital think me exceedingly strange for living out here among those of lesser status. Most of the Preferred would not even consider it, but then again, they’ve thought me eccentric from the beginning. But tell me, do you recognize any of this?”

Karigan nodded, pointing out the saddlery shop with the smithy beside it. She explained how the lower city tended to be occupied by rougher neighborhoods.

“The nobility and wealthier classes were closer to the castle,” she said. The professor nodded as if he knew this.

When they reached the Cock and Hen, she sighed. “This place was known for its ale, but it was also well known for its brawls and the unsavory characters who frequented it.”

“Fascinating,” the professor replied, gazing up at the tilted sign. “If you were to enter the building and descend to the cellar, you’d still find intact kegs of ale. It’s rather turned at this point, I fear.” He puckered his face from what appeared to be an unpleasant memory. “I should have liked to have tried it when it was freshly tapped.”