Chris Wooding: Weavers of Saramyr

'Kaiku?' Mishani said, and they were on their way.

Another explosion rumbled through the Keep, making the walls shake. This one was no bomb, but the stores of ignition powder down in the cellars. Kaiku stumbled and fell as they were crossing an intersection between two corridors, into the path of a frightened group of servant women who almost trampled her. The sound of running feet and the clank of armour came after, and Tane saw with a thrill of horror that a group of Imperial Guards was racing towards them. He shifted Lucia's weight to one arm and used the other to grab Kaiku and haul her to one side, then huddled down with her, shielding the Heir-Empress with his body as the Guards rushed by. They paid him no attention.

Kaiku's eyelids were drooping behind the cloth rag that concealed her eyes, her head lolling forward on to her breast. 'I cannot go on,' she said. 'I am so tired.'

Tane would not listen. The fever that had settled in his bones only seemed to make him more determined not to tire, more unforgiving of weakness; his or hers. Though he sweated and his skin seemed taut and yellowish, he would not allow himself to succumb, and was driving himself ever harder. Relinquishing Lucia for a moment, he dragged Kaiku to her feet. She moaned in protest. 'Be quiet,' he hissed, at the sound of new footsteps. He lifted Lucia up, put Kaiku's hand back on his shoulder, and they went on.

For Kaiku it was a descent into nightmare that was becoming all too familiar. The awful burning, the empty void left inside her after her kana had broken free stole her will to do anything but lie where she was and sleep. One day, unless she learned to tame it, it would be the death of her. It might already have been the death of the Heir-Empress, and the hopes of the Libera Dramach. She staggered in Tane's wake, hating him for forcing her to run when she could be asleep, hating herself for being so selfish when there was a child in his arms who could be dying even now.

Tane moved with certainty; after many years of finding his way through forests, the ordered corridors of the Keep presented no problem to him. Under his guidance, they made their way rapidly down into the lower levels, heading for the servants' quarters. Every new person that passed them by brought a fresh dread; every pair of eyes looking them over might recognise the child he carried, and that would be the end for them. But time and again their luck held, and they passed through the confusion unchallenged.

'Tane! Kaiku!'

They jumped at the sound of their names, but trepidation turned to relief as they recognised the voice. They paused on the narrow stairs they were descending, and from behind them came Asara and Mishani. The reek of hot smoke rose from below, but that was to be expected; they were almost into the corridors where Cailin waited.

'Kaiku, are you hurt?' Mishani cried, seeing the binding around Kaiku's eyes. Kaiku slumped, but Asara caught her and bore her up.

'She has used her kana,' Asara said. 'It drains her. She just needs sleep.'

Mishani's eyes flickered from her friend to the child in Tane's arms, then to Tane himself. He looked sick; his gaze was grey and bleak. He feared for the Heir-Empress.

'There is no time to waste,' Mishani said, deciding all questions could wait. 'We must go.'

And with that, they plunged down into the depths of the servants' quarters. Poisonous fumes undulated in thin veils along the ceiling. Distant wails and calls for help reached them faintly, even over the dull whine that had muted Kaiku's ears after she had been near-deafened by an earlier bomb. The walls had reverted to rough brick rather than varnished wood or lack, bits of rubble were scattered around their feet. People they passed were grimed with smoke and sweat, and the heat was almost intolerable. It was not so cramped here as the first time Kaiku and Tane had passed through it, for those who could escape had already done so, leaving behind only the wounded and those who were willing to try and help them.

They were beginning to hope they might make it back to the old donjon where Purloch waited when they ran into three Imperial Guards.

It was pure bad luck that placed them in the path of the four companions and their supine burden. The Guards had escaped the fighting in the throne room, their courage failing them in the confusion of not knowing who was an ally and who was the enemy, and they had fled down into the servants' chambers to avoid the bloodshed going on above. Their intention – if they were faced with a superior officer – was to offer the explanation of digging out those trapped by the blazing rubble; but ill fortune had brought the kidnappers right to them, and whether they were loyal or traitors, ihey would not allow the Heir-Empress to leave the Keep if they recognised her.

Tane, in the lead, almost bowled into the Guards as the companions rushed into a plain, square stone room that formed a junction between three corridors. Wooden drying racks hung from the ceiling, and clothes hung from them in turn, now bone-dry and crinkling in the heat. The coarse brown bricks of the walls had cracked in places from nearby bomb-blasts, and the floor was dusted with powder and chips of rock.

They were too surprised by the presence of soldiers down here to keep the guilt off their faces. Mishani was the honourable exception, but her efforts did no good.

'What's that?' one of them said, his rifle already aimed at Tane. The other two raised their own rifles, more in alarm at the violent arrival of the newcomers than in any expectation of a threat. They

were jumpy, for it would mean their necks if their cowardice were discovered. The three of them were sweating heavily, baking inside their metal armour, the white and blue lacquer streaked with dirt.

'She is hurt!' Tane cried. 'Let us by!'

'I saw you in the throne room,' said one of the other Guards, his eyes ranging over Asara. They flicked to Mishani. 'You too. The Empress sentenced you to death.'

Neither Tane nor Kaiku reacted to the news. Tane's mind was racing through options of escape, but it was sluggish with fever and would not deliver; Kaiku was almost comatose on her feet.

'And you should be with her, not down here with the servants,' Mishani replied smoothly. 'Unless, that is, you are false Guards, like the other traitors who tried to take our Empress's life.'

Tane quailed inwardly at her boldness, but it made the Guards pause for a moment. They were evidently weighing their loyalties, deciding on the best response to the accusation.

'That girl,' said the Guard who had spoken to Tane. 'Look at her clothes. She's no servant.'

'It's the Heir-Empress,' the second one said, his voice dull with menace.

'It can't be!' said the third.

The second narrowed his eyes. 'I've done duty in the Heir-Empress's chambers before,' he said. 'It's her.'

Tane felt a nausea creep into his gut as the first Guard turned a sickly smile upon Mishani.

'Indeed,' he said. 'Then Shintu smiles on us, for that child is a monster, and she must die.' He put the rifle to his shoulder, pointed it squarely at Tane and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. The powder did not ignite. It was a misfire.

The expectation of the shot caused everyone to hesitate; except for Asara. She had covered the distance between her and the nearest Guard in a moment, her elbow smashing into his jaw as she grabbed the barrel of his rifle with her other hand, twisting it out of his grip. It fired with a percussive crack, blasting a spume of grey dust from the stone wall next to his companion's head, causing him to shy back with an oath of alarm. Tane shoved the child into Kaiku's arms, who was too weak to hold her, and the pair of them tumbled to the ground. By then the Guard who had misfired had his sword drawn, his rifle cast aside; but Tane was ready for him. He darted inside the Guard's thrust, grabbing him by the arm and