Jano joined Dareia at the exit of the Sewers. They were staring at the ladder. Ready to ascend and start absolute chaos. A simple long dagger hung from Dariea’s robes. She had given him his scythe back and they had attached it to the back of his clothes using leather straps. He felt ridiculous with it, but it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Or so Dariea had explained. He suggested a sword might be better, but when she had forced him to disclose that he had never used one before, she said he might as well stick with the scythe. He’d be just as useless with either.

Something had been nagging at Jano since their conversation last night. As the Mage was about to take the ladder in her arms. He blurted out a garbled mess of words. She turned and gave him a confused look, raising one eyebrow as though inviting him to try again.

“Sorry… I wanted to ask… I know it’s probably not the time...if we manage to beat the Emperor... “ he stammered, checking his wrist.

“Will you lose your magic?” She added. Jano nodded and she took her hand from the steel ladder. “Well you’re contracted to me remember? So no. The other citizens will feel like they’ve lost part of themselves though.” She paused.

“If we make it through this however. I would like to train you to become a Mage proper. It’s obvious you have talent for materials and perhaps more besides. However, it would mean starting from the basics. You will have to progress as I once did.” She looked at him, with a hard but friendly look.

“I have started from the bottom a few times before. I am honoured that you want to teach me.” Jano swelled with pride. The opportunity to make something of himself and perhaps not just as a guildsman. Perhaps as something more.

She turned back to the ladder. “Of course. All of that depends on us succeeding. Or at least surviving..” she started to climb and Jano’s optimism fell away a little. But not entirely. However, it did make him very aware of what they were about to attempt.

With that cheery remark, Dariea climbed up the ladder and he followed her dutifully. The cold touch of the steel was not enough to draw his mind from the task ahead.

It wasn’t just the ladder which was cold as they emerged onto the stone floor of the Northern Quarter. Dareia knew the routes of the tunnels and exactly how close they could get to the Palace. Jano had asked why they couldn’t just crawl back in as he had done to retrieve the Scepter. Apparently, that would be guarded. He wasn’t sure whether she knew that because she knew what the Emperor was thinking or it was just common sense. Or perhaps it was because Dariea didn’t want to be covered in the filth of the waste pipes. He couldn’t blame her for that.

The streets were relatively busy, with Mages and nobles rushing around. The others all had a concrete plan to create a distraction, Jano just had to stay close to Dareia. To get them in and out of the Ancient City. He was pretty sure that Dareia could do this all herself, but she insisted that she needed all the help she could get. The fact that he was useful to the point of necessity made him more terrified.

The different coloured robes of the rank and file Mages pushed past Jano. They didn’t pay them any attention. He was dressed in simple clothing and Dareia was wearing some older, nondescript robes. They would hopefully blend in as a poor low level Mage and servant. Tensions were high and Jano noticed that people weren’t really hanging around or talking to each other. Just heading from one place to the next hurriedly.

The pair walked quickly, trying to blend in, until they found themselves approaching the gates leading to the Palace. The University was ages away at the other end of the Northern Quarter, but Jano felt as though he could feel its presence. Like a looming guilt. That was the reason his wife was being held hostage. He wasn’t even sure he was on the right side. He put those thoughts away.

Dareia stopped, she held up her hand as clouds began to gather overhead. Dark grey clouds started to pulsate. As though a storm was about to start. Fog appeared around Jano’s legs. It was thin at first, the swirling wisps nipping at his ankles. Quickly, it became thicker and thicker. Like a thick broth.

Jano watched Dareia and couldn’t quite piece together what she was doing. She wasn’t moving. Did she have power over the weather? He knew the rumours about the Emperor and the sky only ever being clear when he was around. He assumed they were just that. Rumours. Could the most powerful Mages really alter their surroundings? Jano’s talents with stone seemed paltry in comparison. If there was anything he was beginning to be certain of, it was that his knowledge of pretty much everything was somewhat limited.

The fog was beginning to become so thick that Jano could barely see Dareia and, last he checked, she was only two paces in front of him. He heard an incredibly loud bang and a deep orange pierced the soupy fog. It radiated outwards, like the sun rising over the buildings on a rare clear morning. Jano smelled burning and distant shouting filled the chaos. Like a hundred voices starting to shout all at once.

“Let’s go.” Dareia grabbed his arm and began moving away from the explosion. Or what he thought must have been an explosion. They snaked and twisted past the huge mansions of the Northern Quarter. The fog was less thick as they moved, but it was gathering all around them. Almost like it was following. Knowing Dariea, it probably was.

They walked for almost fifty paces, tracing the walls of the Palace but not walking too close to it. She finally stopped. “Could you get us in here?” She asked. It was phrased as a question, but he doubted it was intended to be one and he walked to the wall. He was now well practiced at his art and he fashioned a door shaped hole quickly. He held the rest of the stone wall in place, it barely required much concentration at all.

They hurried through and the fog was once again folding around them. Like a thick blanket. The shouting was coming from more places now. As the stone formed behind him, the clanking of Guard armour seemed to be everywhere.

Dareia gave a little smile. “That’ll be our friends from last night. They’re leading the Guards away from us. Or at least I hope they are. Thanks to that handy explosion. Come on.”

Jano wondered how useful all of this was, if the Emperor could know where Dareia was most of the time. They walked through the grand streets of the Palace which was more like a private inner city. Though the fog was still thick, he could make out the grand designs of the lamplights adorning the street. Nobody lived here other than those handpicked by the Emperor. Even so, the streets were wider than some blocks of the Slums.

They passed a few large sprawling buildings, but the Palace was easy enough to find. All paths led to it after all. Dareia stopped. There was a small cluster of Guards stationed at the front of the Palace. Jano and Dariea scurried to a small building opposite.

Two Guards loitered by the door, looking itchy. As if they were missing out on some real action. Dareia motioned to Jano to do his thing on the small building they were next to. Carefully and quietly, he removed a small hole in the brick. Enough to squeeze through. The process wasn’t silent, but there was enough commotion going on in the Northern Quarter and amongst the Guards to cover it if he was careful.

He replaced the stone and they found themselves in another storeroom. Small and out of place for a place so grand. Dareia immediately felt for something and a click sounded in the darkness. He should have expected something to move then, but as he fell down a small hole and crashed to the floor, all the air rushed from his lungs. He was immobilised. For a second he thought the next breath wouldn’t come. He lay there wheezing, until finally cool air rushed into his lungs.

Dareia calmly walked down a few steps, which he hadn’t noticed during his rather quick descent. She offered a hand and helped him to his feet. Her face was flushed as though she might burst into laughter at any point. She restrained herself. Jano dusted himself down. He looked at her, as though demanding an explanation.

“Sorry, I had…” she chuckled and almost lost control. “I had forgotten where the latch was and where the tunnels opened out. I’ll try to be more careful.”

Jano looked up at the hole which he had fallen through. It was slowly covering itself up, as whatever mechanism she had triggered unwound itself. He brushed himself off once more for dramatic effect and they carried on. He tried to gather his breath as quietly as possible, as though that might save him from further embarrassment.

The tunnels were made of packed dirt, with a few lamplights lining the walls. The light didn’t stretch far, but Jano noticed Dareia walking with ease through the passages. As though she had done it a hundred times before.

The packed dirt had a faint smell of ash. Though it could have been the burning of the lamplights, it seemed distinct to Jano. The tunnel was straight, with no hiding places if they had been followed or met with any resistance, but so far they were very much alone.

Dareia was silent throughout their journey. All traces of humour gone from before. She walked with purpose and Jano struggled to keep up. He was surprised that there hadn’t been more Guards when they reached the end of the tunnel and were faced with more steps leading up to a wooden panel above.

The Mage turned to face him. “Once we open this, there’s a good chance we’ll have to fight. If you see the opportunity to get out with your wife. Take it.”

Jano nodded. “I’ll help however I can.” Dareia smiled at him.

“Thanks. I bet you didn’t expect all of this when I picked you out by the workhouse.” She looked at the mechanism. “Bringing down Empires and all that.” She notched a latch on the wall. “But seriously, if things go haywire from here on out and you can leave. You should.”

Jano’s stomach tightened. A small wire drew tight across the panel and it opened up slowly. Painfully slow it seemed to Jano. He heard noises on the other side of the panel. Crunching, rushing noises. Fucking Guards, he thought.