When Darrel had said that he had a plan, Jano didn’t imagine that it would mean crawling through a sewage pipe to break into the Palace. All of this, just in time for the Emperor to be taking up his residence in it. It all seemed a little bit insane.

He gagged as he pushed his elbows through the mire. There was just enough room to keep his head out of the flowing waste. According to Darrel, this was a particularly fortunate day to attempt this, as they would be forced to flush the system in a few days as part of regular maintenance and the water levels were lower than normal. He felt the gentle tugging of the pack which was tied to his ankle. Darrel’s idea of supplies.

Even still, the smell was one hundred times worse than the Slums. And that was bad enough. The sewer pipes ran throughout the city, and so finding the right way into the Palace was a mammoth task. Fortunately, the Mage had that part planned out. They had walked as far as they could north, before Darrel had pointed him towards this particular section.

He said he couldn’t join because the Emperor and some of his stronger lackeys would be able to sense him and would give away their position. Very convenient, Jano thought as he continued crawling through the grime. A disgusting block of congealed something bumped against his arm and he twisted his body out of the way. He was almost sick, but that would only add to his troubles.

The rest of the plan was relatively simple, though it would not be easy. The Sceptre would be in a room in the west of the Palace, apparently where other ceremonial but largely useless items were kept. It wasn’t guarded on a normal day apparently, never mind with the chaos of the Emperor’s arrival. It was likely to be the easiest part. According to Darrel anyway.

This time he was on his own and he wouldn’t have any protection from Nara, which worried him a little. She had been a calming presence last time, despite them being strangers. She was powerful and strong, and he wasn’t. He crawled on. The sloshing was the worst part. The constant reminder of the surroundings. Jano quickly realised that a good rhythm was essential, if his movement was too vigorous, the water could go anywhere. It only came close to his lips once, before he made that his focus.

He passed some smaller pipes, though he could only see the top of the pipe above the water line, he could feel the pressure of waste flowing into the water surrounding him. He gagged at the thought.

If they don’t see me when I break in, they are sure going to smell me, he thought.

He crawled for what felt like another hour, but in reality it was only probably a few minutes before the pipe opened up once more. He stood and stretched eagerly, feeling the cramp leave his muscles and the aching in his bones eased slowly. The audible popping and creaking of his back and shoulders as he stretched shocked him a little. He looked around and spied a ladder in the corner, which is what he’d been hoping to find.

It met Darrel’s instructions. He grabbed the pack he’d been provided with and dug around inside. He pulled out a change of clothes. Fine velvet servants clothes, deep blue with a golden thread embroidered throughout and soft silk slippers. He stripped down and used his sodden clothes to wipe his body. It didn’t help much, but it dried him a little. He wafted his body to try and dry further, before finally accepting that it was as good as it was going to get and pulled on the velvet clothes.

He searched through the pack once more, finding only a small handheld mirror to see under doorways and corners. There was nothing more inside. It was big enough to put the sceptre in, if he needed to exit through the sewers once more. Which was unfortunately the plan.

He climbed up the ladder and popped his head out of the little hole. He was in one of the latrines. Or at least he thought he was, the room was bigger than his home. There was a long fine white porcelain trough with golden dragons climbing up either side. There was a cabinet which stretched half of the length of the room, with ornate yellow metal faucets. Jano knew that some of the rich had water pumped through their homes, but he had only seen it once, and it was nowhere near as fancy as this.

He peeked out of the door using the mirror. It wasn’t perfect, but he could see the corridor was clear and he slunk into it as quietly as he could. The corridor itself was just as opulent as the bathroom had been. With long violet rugs cushioning the floor and high shimmering white walls. Darrel had explained that this was the guest area of the Palace. If the guests had it this good, who knows what the Emperor’s living quarters would look like.

He caught a whiff of himself. Even in his new clothes, it was enough to make even the strongest stomach heave. He paced as quickly as he could down the corridor, the silk slippers temporarily unnecessary with the rugs providing ample cover for his footsteps..

He counted off the turns in his mind. ‘Take the first right down the corridor’ the Mage had told him. ‘From there, take an immediate left and you should find yourself in a smallish guest bedroom.’ Obliging his instructions, he entered the room and gently closed the door behind him. Darrel had lied. Or rather more accurately, Jano was just considering what the Mage considered small. A bedroom stretched on for what felt like fifty paces. It had a similar colourful rectangular rug stretched across the floor at the foot of a huge bed. It was lifted off the floor and surrounded by four posts at each corner. Each of them were large enough to imitate a grand tower. Darrel briefly considered the thick cushioned mattress with a look of longing, before getting back to the task at hand.

He located the mahogany bookcase which stretched the length of the opposite wall. He searched it, pulling at some of the books which jutted out from the others. He noticed a handle to the side of a thin green pamphlet. He glanced at the book to see whether it had any significance, but it was nameless. Intrigued, he flicked through the pages and noticed strange runes, like those Darrel had used in his contract. He stuffed it into his pack, hoping it may come in useful.

On pushing the swirling dark handle firmly upwards, he heard a cracking sound. It wasn’t from this room, but behind it. Just as the Mage said. His stomach tightened as he worried the noise could alert a guard, or even the Emperor himself if it carried on. Thankfully, it stopped and the section of the bookcase he had been been looking through, disappeared into the ceiling.

He touched the stone as he passed through, wondering what sort of mechanism had been used for such a contraption. He saw the pulleys and smiled. He rushed onward. It was pitch dark, so he used his hands on either side to guide him. It didn’t seem to bend, but his mind told him the floor twisted this way and that.

Finally, a small light appeared. It gradually grew larger as he kept moving forward, until he was surrounded by dazzling light. The old throne room. It took a small while for his eyes to adjust. He was incredibly vulnerable during that moment and he curled up into a little ball just in case someone tried to attack. What it would actually do for him, he didn’t know, but it felt right at the time.

He unfurled himself and looked around the room. There were golden trinkets everywhere. It was a sea of gold, glinting red and clear white gems and a huge intricate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, with what must have been hundreds of precious stones linked together by thin silver chains. Any number of these artefacts would be enough to set him up for life. That is if he could sell it without drawing attention and ending up arrested.

As he had watched Nara the first time he had been sent to steal something for Darrel, he started combing through the different items. He had seen the Scepter before, so he shouldn’t have a problem finding it. Of course the old throne room wasn’t small, which didn’t help.

He didn’t have room for anything other than the Scepter in his bag. Which was a shame, as he reconsidered his promise to only take the sceptre. His mind drifted, looking at the beauty of the precious items which surrounded him. Then he began to think about the vast wealth which would have been required to purchase or make such things. Wealth acquired off the backs of the Slummers. The old throne loomed at the back of the room, it was moulded black stone, polished and smooth, with white veins running throughout. It had coloured gems set into the headpiece. No doubt it would have matched whatever crown was in use at the time.

Ordinary people didn’t often see the throne. So he had no idea whether it was better or worse than the current one. It was a horrible reminder of what he was doing and where he was. Next to the throne was a silver stand, set with yet more precious looking stones up the stem, with a velvet cushioned top, which looked comfier than anything Jano had seen before. Perched atop the stand was the Scepter and a small black gem. He had been told to fetch both, as they apparently worked together.

He picked up the Scepter and noted its weight. Much heavier than he thought at first glance. He stuffed it in his pack along with the stone and headed back to the exit. The bag dragged one arm down and he couldn’t believe he was almost excited to get back in the sewer and tie it to his feet.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a single Guard or soul in the building. It’s obviously that large. The Emperor is obviously causing quite a stir, he thought. He had only ever glimpsed the Palace at a distance. It was tucked away within the very top of the city. Some called it the Palace Isle, because it had its own walls and it was almost separate. There were all sorts of rumours why, extravagant balls for the high nobility, orgies, even a rumour that the residents were an entirely different sort of people. Jano had always just assumed it was to keep the Emperor protected in case of attack.

He felt a sadness that he wasn’t able to see the place for himself, that he had to leave through the sewers once more. But then again, it wasn’t like he could just walk out the front door of the Palace and stroll through the streets of the Isle, until a few months ago, he stuck out in the Middle. Never mind somewhere designed for the elite.

He attached his pack to his ankle once more and lowered himself into the sewers. He felt the familiar splash of waste water on his ankles and headed towards the smaller tunnel, preparing himself to crawl through. He looked at his clothes and sighed deeply, though they would only be considered servants' clothes in the Palace, they were some of the finest garments he had ever worn. He took a deep breath and began to crawl. He could have sworn the water was higher now, closer to his mouth. Lovely.