The two shot through the undergrowth as quickly, but quietly, as they could. They kept to the flora, only darting into the moonlit stone paths when there lay no other way forward. Periodically, Kyembe would stop their advance, cock an ear to the air, and change their direction.

Wurhi heard nothing at those times, and was forced to trust the Sengezian’s sharp ears, much to her nervousness. They passed looming garden statues of winged lions, ferocious demon-dogs, and towering stone men with bird-like wings and sinister faces.

Then the undergrowth abruptly ended.

A clear cobblestone courtyard separated them from Cas’ main sanctum for twenty long paces. The only cover lay in the shadow of a towering marble fountain sculpted in the image of a choir of maidens and young boys. They emptied their water urns into the bowl below, fed by some deviltry of engineering or magecraft beyond Wurhi’s ken. Her interest was more in what lay directly below the fountain.

A pair of Cas’ guards lounged idly at its foot, enjoying the water falling and fending off the dry air. The pale moonlight illuminated their faces, revealing their lips moving and their eyes alert. Wurhi strained her ears, but couldn’t make out what they said over the fountain’s babble.

“They speak of the dogs,” Kyembe whispered, drawing a look of surprise from her. “They say that they did not bark very much, and so think they merely chase a bird. Good for us, but I think they will not move for a time,” his red eyes squinted. “Hold here, I will be back quickly.”

Wurhi startled. “Wait-”

By the time she started protesting, his form had already melted into the brush.

“Shit, shit!” she swore, crouching low among the ferns. Her heart pounded in her ears as the time trickled by at a crawl, with each moment making her more tense than the last. It quickly occurred to her that he could have just slipped off to find another way in for himself.

Then a guttural barking resounded from the north.

She stiffened.

It was close, very close.

What was that bastard doing?!

At first the guards paid it little heed, but as it kept on with increasing insistence, they began to show interest. The two came to their feet and, with spears levelled, advanced toward the noise. She pressed herself low amongst the underbrush as they entered the garden and disappeared.

“Quickly now!” a voice whispered from beside her.

Wurhi nearly screamed as evil looking red eyes hovered in the dark.

“The dogs are on their way!” Kyembe hissed beneath the barking. “Come!”

He darted from the brush and after a moment of quieting her rampaging panic, she followed.

The two crossed the moonlit courtyard at speed as the barking echoed at their backs, and pressed against the stone building, tucking themselves into the shadows.

“My source said that just ahead is the servant’s entrance. It’s only watched by an occasional patrol. That’ll be our way in,” she crept forward along the wall, then peered around the corner.

She stiffened, internally cursing her treacherous partner and that idiot princeling.

Two guards were posted by the entrance, and they looked like they had no intent on moving. No doubt it was in response to Kashta and Aparis’ failure the night before.

“Damn you, how much did you tell them before they killed you?” she muttered beneath the continued barking.

Kyembe peered around the corner above her and grimaced. “Is there another way in?”

“The front entrance and the kitchen door.”

“Let us not take that first one. Do you know where the kitchen is?”

She lifted her face to the air, taking a couple of deep sniffs. It was faint, but there was the welcoming scent of burnt cedar, roasted meat and enticing spices. “This way,” she said.

She did not notice Kyembe watching her intently before following.

“Is it close?” he glanced back to the gardens.

She sniffed again. “Yes.”

“Good,” he made a curious gesture, and the barking abruptly ended.

Wurhi threw a surprised look between the foliage and her companion, but he waved it off. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised with what he did to the crocodile in the river.

They rounded the building, closing in on a great stone chimney that loomed high in the dark, and saw a wooden door close to it. Kyembe quickly pulled at the ring, then frowned. “It is barred.”

“Up there,” Wurhi pointed up the wall to a curtained window half again Kyembe’s height. It was a tiny thing, too narrow for even a man of his leanness to fit through, but for Wurhi the Rat, it might as well have been a doorway. “Lift me up, and I’ll climb through and unbar the door.”

Kyembe frowned. “And if there’s a guard on the other side?”

She silently drew her dagger in reply. “I’ll worry about that. Now, hurry! Quick! Quick!” she said, biting the blade between her teeth. Balancing on Kyembe’s hands, Wurhi was hoisted up with a quiet grunt until she was eye level with the portal. Carefully pulling the curtain aside, she crawled forward, wriggling through the window and dropping silently onto a stone countertop.

She froze.

A quiet snoring came from the other side of the room.

Nervously, she remained still like a small animal, but the breathing did not change in rhythm nor show any sign of its owner coming to wakefulness. Cautiously, she stepped around the clay cups and plates scattered on the counter and slipped down onto the dirt floor.

She stalked through the miasma of smells - burnt cedar, food, spices - and came upon the source, a single guardsman curled up against the pantry door. He was an ox of a man, sleeping deeply with powerful arms folded over his lamellar and helmet and spear lain beside him. Bread crumbs filled his beard and the floor beneath.

Wurhi tightened her jaw in a surge of jealousy. When last had she or anyone else slept so peacefully in Zabyalla outside of these walls? Briefly, she considered making sure that the lout would never wake, but she was not so low as to slay folk for mere agitation. His dereliction of duty only aided her anyway, and he might cry out before she finished him off.

Tunk. Tunk.

A light knock upon the outer door.

She rushed to it. “Shhhh!” she hissed from between clenched teeth. “What are you doing?”

“The barking made them suspicious!” Kyembe’s distraught voice cut through the wood in low, hoarse tones. “A patrol is coming! Let me in!”

Wurhi’s stomach dropped. “Shit! Shit! Alright!”

She reached under the bar to lift it.

Burly arms wrapped around her neck and chest.