Moving closer, they could see the varying heights of the many stone and wood buildings,

  tightly packed together inside the walls, rising and falling with the uneven lay of the land.

  Moving closer still, they began to be able to make out people going up and down the roads that criss-crossed the hills, moving this way and that as they went about their business.

  They rode into the outer city, where the roads were still dirt and the buildings more

  haphazard. Silas knew this to be the poorest area of Elling, home mostly to displaced villagers, the disabled, and the infirm. There was a Temple of Amman abutting the city walls, a simple square wooden structure with a wide open archway and a menagerie of prayer rugs arranged

  along the floors. A priest of Amman stood outside, blessing people as they passed, and handing out small loaves of bread.

  The sound of a blacksmith hammer rang out to their right, and Silas wondered what Eryn

  was feeling at hearing a sound he knew would be familiar to her. During their journey to Elling they had spoken at length on her childhood, and her family. She had confided to him how much she missed them, and how she prayed to Amman for them every day before she went to sleep. He promised himself he would bring her to the Temple to offer her prayers in the home of Amman, and help her feel closer to those she had lost. He didn't share her belief in the god, but he accepted her need for it.

  "Sir Herik, Sir Pane," Eryn said, spinning her horse around and addressing both of them.

  "You have done me a great service. I will be sure the Overlord hears of it."

  The two soldiers bowed their heads, turned and began the long ride back to the rest of

  their squad. Eryn caught Silas' eye and winked at him. He winked back.

  "Good evening, Mediator," the guard standing before the city gates said when she

  approached. Like Root, there were numerous guards stationed at the entrance, along with tax collectors. The city was too large to take the names of all who entered, but they did extract a small fee from the merchants who desired access.

  Eryn was about to respond, when he noticed Silas behind her.

  "You captured him?" he asked, clearly surprised.

  "Why so shocked, soldier?" Eryn replied. "He is an old man."

  The guard walked back to where Silas was. "Good riddance, murderer," he said.

  He got too close, and Silas' feet weren't bound. He kicked out, catching the guard in the

  face and knocking him to the ground.

  Eryn grabbed the chain and yanked on it, pulling him off-balance. He caught himself with

  his legs.

  The guard picked himself up, his nose bloodied. "You son of a wh-"

  "Soldier," Eryn snapped. "You should learn from your mistake. You were a fool to get so close to him."

  He swallowed his anger and bowed. "Yes, Mediator."

  Eryn urged her horse forward through the city gates, trailing Silas behind. He spit on the

  guard for good measure, enjoying his part in the act.

  They rode through the main thoroughfare, a wide, crowded street that wound its way

  around and up the hill directly to the Overlord's palace. The populace around them moved aside without looking, keeping their attention on their own tasks and ignoring the presence of the Mediator and her prisoner. Silas was sure they had seen a similar scene play out enough times that the novelty had worn off.

  In fact, he had been counting on it. He kept a close eye on the people around them as they

  walked up and around. When he thought nobody was looking, he bent over and spit the key to

  the shackles down into his hand, and then maneuvered himself to unlock it. He gave the chain one more tug to alert Eryn that he had freed himself, and then he slid off and ran.

  "Mediator!" someone cried out on the street, almost as soon as Silas' feet hit the ground.

  He turned his head back and saw Eryn was already wheeling her horse to follow after him.

  It had all been part of their plan, but it was still a bit of a risk, because he had no idea how the people of Elling would respond to his escape. He pushed past a young man in a fancy blue tunic, and made his way down one of the many narrow alleys between buildings. He could hear Eryn's horse clomping behind him.

  He burst out of that alley onto a smaller street where the smell of fresh cooked meats

  caught the attention of his senses. He saw it had also attracted two of his soldiers, and they noticed the commotion he caused as he passed through to the next alley.

  "Go around," he heard Eryn shout from behind him. The order wasn't very specific, so he hoped it would be enough to keep them from participating in the show.

  He burst out of that alley, and found himself on a downward slope. He could see the

  buildings ahead, older and more worn, and cast in deeper shadows. Eryn had told him about

  Magret and Tanner, and how they had suggested the Tenders. He was headed in the right

  direction.

  A soldier popped out in front of him. Silas caught him from the corner of his eye just in

  time to duck under the man's sword. He brought his elbow up into the soldier's face, knocking him away, leaped to the side to avoid hitting a woman with a baby, and reached yet another

  narrow passage. He could still hear Eryn chasing after him.

  The whole city had changed by the time he reached the bottom of the hill. The buildings

  here were darker, and older, but the streets were less crowded. Those that were outside had none of the finery he had bypassed on the hill, their clothes a more simple brown, grey, and black cloth. They were a step above those that lived outside the walls, but only a step.

  He had crossed three more streets, and was nearly ready to end the chase, when the door

  of one of the apartment buildings swung open, and a thick arm and body grabbed him and pulled him inside.

  "What in He-"

  The force made him tumble to the ground. He found himself on his rear, resting on a

  worn wooden floor.

  "Shhh." The man who had pulled him in was holding a finger to his lips. On the other side of the door was a second man, smaller and thinner, watching from a crack.

  "What are you doing?" Silas whispered. This definitely hadn't been part of the plan.

  "We see you coming," the big man replied in a low voice. "We're ready for that Mediator."

  Silas felt his breath catch. "What? No!"

  He heard the horse coming, more slowly now because he had disappeared. It sounded like

  it was right outside the door.

  "Now!" the small man shouted, swinging open the door. They both ran out at Eryn, and from the noise Silas could tell they weren't alone.

  He jumped to his feet and ran after them, hearing her scream at their attack. When he

  reached the door, he saw the big man trying to pull her off the horse.

  "Stop," Silas shouted. "Stop." He grabbed the man's shoulder, trying to pull him away, but he wrapped his hand around Eryn's leg.

  "Silas," Eryn cried.

  There were at least six of them, all trying to get her down to their level.

  "Leave her alone," Silas yelled. He stopped trying to be diplomatic, and punched the big man in the head.

  "What you do that for?" he asked, turning to face Silas, reacting as though he barely felt the blow.

  "Let her go," Silas said. "She's with me. She isn't a Mediator."

  "Huh?"

  Silas reached out and grabbed her, pulling her from the saddle and away from her

  attackers. There were seven all told, five men and two women. They held knives and clubs, and they looked angry.

  "She isn't a Mediator," he repeated, loud enough for the others to hear. He pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing her almost bald head. The action gave the rest of the crowd pause.

  "Well, I'll be," the small man said. "Who are you?"

  Silas held up his hand. "Not yet," he said. "We need to get out of here. The real soldiers probably aren't that far behind."

  He let Eryn go and grabbed his sword and the saddlebags from the horse, and then led it

  back the other direction and sent it on its way.

  "Do you have somewhere safe we can go?"

  The big man waved. "This way."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Eryn

  Eryn and Silas followed them down a dark alley and around a corner to a pair of large red

  doors. The big man knocked on it twice, paused, and knocked twice more. Eryn could hear the sound of someone shifting a huge crossbar out of the way, and then the door swung open.

  "Bryant," the doorman said on seeing the big man. He scanned the group, his eyes

  stopping on Eryn and going wide with fear. "What are you doing?"

  "Is okay, Alain," Bryant said. "She's in disguise."

  Alain moved out of the way, and ushered them in. He was an ordinary looking man, with

  short brown hair, a large nose, and crooked teeth. He bowed to Eryn when she walked by.

  "Save it for later, Alain," the small man said.

  "Shove off, Edgar," Alain replied.

  Beyond the red door was a large, dark room, lit by candles placed into a row of dusty old

  chandeliers that hung from a wood-paneled ceiling. The floor was marble, but had seen better days, and the mural painted walls were pitted and cracked. To the rear of the room was a

  fireplace, and scattered around in no particular order were straw beds, next to which lay

  assortments of personal items. Eryn saw a staircase on either side of the fireplace, each going in opposite directions.

  "Where is this?" Silas asked, joining her in scanning their surroundings.

  "Is home," Bryant said. "Not much, but is better than being out in rain."

  A sudden rumble shook the building, the dark clouds they had seen earlier finally

  unleashing their payload.

  "It used to be a theatre," Edgar said. "The stairs up led to the seating and the stage. The stairs down to the wardrobe and prop rooms. This room was for banquets and dancing."

  "There was a fire one night," Alain said. "The Overlord refused to let us rebuild. He claimed our shows were spreading discord among the citizenry. That we were anti-empire. He

  shut us down. We've been living here, destitute, since."

  "You're performers?" Eryn asked.

  Edgar chuckled. "Yes, my dear. The Tilling Theatre Troupe, once the pride of the

  Tenders, now just a leaky roof to hide under." He turned to Silas. "You must be Silas Morningstar?"

  Silas nodded.

  Edgar gave him a theatrical bow. "A pleasure," he said. "We were told to keep an eye out for you here."

  "You were?" Silas asked.

  Edgar reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. He handed it

  to Silas. Eryn positioned herself over his should so she could read it with him.

  Edgar,

  His soldiers are searching for a man with white hair and blue eyes named Silas

  Morningstar. He is headed to Elling, and may be traveling with a young girl. The Overlord is afraid of him, and he helped Sena and me, so please keep a look out, and help him when he arrives. For all our sakes.

  - Robar Quall

  "You entertainers are a sly bunch," Silas said.

  Edgar turned to her. "My apologies to you, miss. When we saw Silas being chased by a

  Mediator, and didn't see a young girl..."

  "You don't need to apologize," Eryn said. "It was a little scary, but I've been through worse."

  "I'm glad you weren't harmed in the confusion," Edgar said. "Although, we did think it was odd that a Mediator would be trying to catch someone like Silas on their own. Mediators aren't soldiers."

  Eryn wasn't sure what he meant, until she remembered that most people outside of his

  army didn't know their secret. She considered telling him, but there was a time and a place, and she wasn't sure this was it. "No, but it was an important part of the plan."

  Edgar laughed and clapped his hands twice. The rest of the assembled performers lined

  up behind him.

  "You already know Bryant, and Alain," he said, sweeping his hand towards them. They bowed in response. Next, he pointed to the two women, both with long black hair and thick,

  curvy bodies. "That is Canae, and her sister Lanae." The two women curtsied. He motioned to a man who was taller and thinner than Silas. "That's Winslow." He waved at a handsome man with shoulder length blonde hair and a sharp nose. "Galvan."

  "And I'm Morie," the last one said, stepping forward from behind Galvan. He was the shortest person Eryn had ever seen, standing no higher than her waist. "Every theater needs a dwarf."

  "A pleasure to meet you all," Eryn said.

  "Edgar," Silas said. "It isn't safe for us to be here. It's only a matter of time before the soldiers figure out that we tricked them. The Overlord will stop at nothing to catch me, once he knows I'm in the city."

  "This is a theater, Silas," Edgar said. "There is no better place in Elling to hide, and there are no better people to hide with." He leaned in close and whispered. "If you don't mind my asking, why exactly does the Overlord fear you so?"

  Silas shrugged. "I wish I knew. I've come to Elling to find out."

  "Well, a friend of Robar Quall is a friend of ours, and an enemy of the Overlord is a best friend of ours. Talk to Canae or Lanae when you need to go out into the street. They are experts with makeup and wigs. Nobody will know that it's you. For now, please, make yourselves at

  home. Alain was just downstairs preparing dinner before you arrived, so there will be stew

  soon."

  Edgar bowed to both of them, and took his leave, wandering off to check on the water

  that was now dripping in through the ceiling. Eryn could see why their beds were arranged in such a random order. It wasn't for space, it was to avoid the leaks.

  "Is kind of out of rain," Bryant said with a laugh. "I get some straw from downstairs, make you at home. Rain is good timing, it help you avoid drips."

  Silas came over to her, his face serious.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "I don't like the idea of putting these people at risk. The Overlord will know I'm here by the end of the day, and he'll empty the barracks to find me."

  "Edgar sounded confident that they could hide you," she said. "I think this is a blessing from Amman, Silas. We had no plan for where we would stay once we were in the city. At least this way we have people willing to help us hide, or give us a disguise. It's their choice. They know the risk."

  Silas gave her a warm smile. "I can't say I'm not fond of the idea of a nice hot bowl of stew."

  Bryant returned from the basement a few minutes later, cradling bales of straw in both of

  his large arms. He found some open space against the wall, where there was a large enough dry spot, and dropped the bales. He worked fast, molding the straw into two sleeping areas.

  "You can keep things here," he said, once he was done. "No one will take."

  Eryn was certain that was true. They were all in this together, and they were willing to

  put themselves at risk for the two of them. It wasn't the family she had expected to have, but she appreciated them all the same.

  ***

  The soldiers arrived the next morning, led by a man who called himself Constable Latten.

  He was a handsome man with a muscular physique, short red hair and a strong jaw. He carried himself with confidence and purpose, and it was obvious from the moment Alain opened the

  door to the theater to let them in, he was looking for any reason at all to burn the place down.

  "My Lord, we haven't seen them," Edgar insisted. "We would know if we had, with all the rain last night."

  They were standing in the ballroom. Edgar, Alain, Bryant, Constable Latten, and six of

  his soldiers. Eryn could see them through the smoke from their hiding spot in the fireplace, a secret small alcove that kept them invisible through a lit fire. She had thought Edgar was crazy when he had told them to hide back there, but now she believed he was brilliant.

  "My men reported that they followed Silas and a Mediator through the streets of Elling, to this block of buildings. They came upon a lone charger returning from the street two blocks from this one, and we are now quite sure that the Mediator they saw was no Mediator at all. Your sympathies for fugitives, rebels, and scum is well known. In fact, the Overlord shut down your so-called theater for your subversive content. The only reason you and your troop haven't been shipped off to the ore mines is because you are the brother of Lord Tilling. Yet, you expect me to believe that you don't have Morningstar and the Cursed hiding here?"

  She was impressed with Edgar. He didn't react to hearing she was Cursed, even though

  they had never mentioned it to him.

  "My Lord," he said. "I have rejected the accusations made against me regarding the nature of my plays time and again. What the Overlord holds as his opinion is only that. I am a loyal citizen of his empire today, tomorrow, and always. Now, you are free to examine every square inch of what is left of this once fine establishment as you desire. I assure you that you won't find any trace of the fugitives."

  Constable Latten turned to his men. "You two, upstairs. You two, downstairs. You two,

  with me."

  The soldiers split up. Eryn watched the two pairs approach, holding her breath and

  praying that they wouldn't be able to see them once they got close. They passed right by, headed in opposite directions on the stairs.

  "Search their things," Latten commanded his men, pointing at Bryant's bed and personal effects.

  The two soldiers went over and began tearing apart the straw, throwing it everywhere

  while Bryant looked on, his face a mask, hiding the anger that Eryn could see behind his eyes.