Page 117 of Reap & Sow

Tripp leaped.

The man’s muffled shout was cut off as the imp plastered himself about his head, wings flapping, tail and arms squeezing with surprising strength. “Now, humans,” he growled, before burying his teeth in the man’s neck.

Ben reacted first. He grabbed the stranger’s flailing knife arm, narrowly stopping Tripp from being gutted. The man was broad, but so was Ben—he swept the stranger’s legs out from under him. He hit the floor. Ben pinned him there with a knee.

Eda plastered herself to the wall, clinging to the wildly swinging lantern. Shadows bounced as the struggle played out upon the walls: gruesome shadow puppets. The man’s bulging eyes briefly met hers, and icy recognition flooded through her.

Hillock.

His eyes roved in his head like a spooked horse, spittle flecking his chin. Tripp snarled like a rabid dog into the meat of Hillock’s throat. Blood ran freely. Eda stared.

Hillock had helped her once. In his master’s interest only, but he’d helped her nonetheless. He was the reason she’d found Kit in the first place. He’d seemed so strong, so much more worldly and dangerous than she.

Now he was reduced to a struggling animal in their trap.

The hallway was narrow, and Hillock’s vicious kicks made him difficult to keep still, but Ben didn’t hesitate. He dislodged Tripp to wrap his hands around the sides of Hillock’s neck, avoiding the windpipe. Hillock’s face turned purple. His thrashing grew sluggish. He wrangled one arm free and swung for Ben with a meaty fist; Eda ran to pin the offending arm down, feeling wretched.

“Cut him open, human!” Tripp said. Blood dripped from his maw. “Be done with it!”

“No,” Ben hissed. She understood—Ben did not want to kill him. Eda did not either.

Hillock soon stopped writhing. He fell silent, then still, and for a moment there was nothing but their own labored breathing to fill the dark corridor. Ben released his grip. His hands were wet and red.

Saints be good. “Is—is he dead?”

Ben held his ear to Hillock’s open mouth. “Still breathing. I think.”

Eda scrambled upright. She made for the office door and swept aside the tapestry.

Lich’s office was just as she remembered—opulent and clean and smelling like spiced tobacco. The tapestry covering the main entrance was closed. Beyond, the hum of people at work carried on uninterrupted. Lich was not here, but his guildhall was full. Someone could come at any moment.

She heard Ben dry heaving. At least he didn’t have to kill again.

Tripp crawled past her feet and spared a scarlet sneer. “See? Eda Shaw would be lost without Tripp.”

“You cannot do something like that without warning us,” she spat, clinging to the doorframe. She tried to concentrate on the cold iron’s bite rather than the coppery scent of blood.

“Tripp did warn you.” He rummaged through Lich’s desk. “You need a key, yes?”

“There’s no guarantee Lich keeps one here. It might be on his person.” She eyed the tapestry. “We can’t stay—”

With a small click, Tripp retracted a claw from one of the drawers. It slid open.

Eda blinked. “You can pick locks?”

“Lord Kit was always getting Tripp to break into things as a youngling.”

“Why didn’t you do that on the other lock, then?”

“Silver, mortal, silver! Tripp wishes to keep his fingers.” Carefully, he drew out a large, shining key by a loop of red satin. Sharp teeth flashed smugly. “Quickly, now. Before the one you should have killed wakes up.”

They put the desk to rights and closed the door behind them. There was some debate about moving Hillock’s body, perhaps hiding it on the stairwell the way they’d come, but there was too much blood on the floor to disguise what had happened. Someone would find Hillock—or notice the missing key—sooner or later. They left him there instead, hoping he’d remain unconscious just a little while longer.

Eda helped Ben get his feet under him, but she rather felt he was keeping her upright too.

Her hand shook as she unlocked the silver gate. They stepped gingerly onto the staircase, mindful of the gap yawning long and deep below. Together they descended into the dark. There were no torches lit at all down here. It wasn’t very far to walk, but the temperature dropped quickly enough to make them shiver. Without their lantern Eda wouldn’t have seen her own feet. She blinked away the dizziness of going around and around until they reached the bottom.

It was only a circle of hard-packed earth, with another gate set into the shaft wall, identical to the one above. It gleamed in the light. Eda unlocked that too. It swung open with a small shriek.