Marcus had turned Riverglass into a crime scene before I arrived.
I was offended.
Not because he had done it badly.
Because he had done it without me.
The loading hall had been cleared of most refugee bedding. Families had moved toward the Guild Hall and two smaller shelters after the attacks stopped. Medical crates remained along the west wall beneath temporary lamps.
In the middle of the floor stood six tables.
Maps.
Delivery receipts.
Broken permit strips.
Witness statements.
Three different colors of chalk.
And Marcus.
He looked exhausted.
He also looked pleased with himself.
I disliked both.
"What is this?"
"Information."
"I can see that."
"Then your education is progressing."
Xavier laughed somewhere behind me.
I ignored him.
Marcus pointed toward the largest map.
Every report had been written on a small rectangular slip.
TIME.
LOCATION.
OBSERVER.
EVENT.
CONFIDENCE.
I looked at him.
He looked back.
"You stole my system."
"You do not own columns."
"I own several companies that use them."
"You still do not own columns."
Héloïse would probably agree with him.
Another betrayal waiting for tomorrow.
Assuming tomorrow remained available.
Captain Merrow entered behind us.
His left arm had been wrapped at the Guild Hall. Nothing broken. The medic had advised rest.
He had interpreted that as:
continue moving, but angrily.
Anata came next.
Then Rex.
Xavier.
No Arkad.
That bothered me.
I looked toward the loading doors.
"Where is he?"
"Guild Hall," Xavier said.
"Why?"
"He tried to come."
"And?"
Xavier held out his hand.
Closed it.
Opened it.
A small tremor.
I understood.
Arkad had spent hours holding narrow passages with exhausted arms.
"He agreed?"
"No."
Of course not.
"Eulalie convinced him?"
"Elisabeth threatened to strap him to a treatment table."
That sounded plausible.
"So he stayed?"
"He said he can still defend the hall."
Not chase.
Defend.
Good distinction.
I disliked that it relieved me.
Mara Kessel came down from the coldhouse office carrying three ledgers.
She did not greet anyone.
"Before you start moving my tables, one wagon is missing."
I stopped.
"What?"
"Riverglass wagon twelve."
Marcus looked up sharply.
"You said all commercial stock was accounted for."
"Stock is."
"Wagon?"
"Not twelve."
Mara dropped the transport ledger in front of him.
"Driver abandoned it near Potters' Arcade when the second black flare went up. He followed evacuation orders."
Korr's orders.
Lives before cargo.
Correct.
"Where were the horses?"
"Released from the traces by a Baronna escort when the street became blocked."
"So the wagon was empty."
"Yes."
"When was it last confirmed?"
Mara gave the time.
Marcus wrote it immediately.
Not approximately.
Exact enough to matter.
I looked toward the Incident Board.
"Add vehicle."
He already had.
Terrible man.
"What makes twelve identifiable?"
"Number stamped under rear board."
"Invisible from distance."
"Yes."
"Anything else?"
"Cold plate on left side was due for service."
"Meaning?"
"It clicks."
I waited.
"That is your identification?"
"If you spend ten hours a day beside refrigeration wards, yes."
Fair.
"Physical?"
She thought.
"Rear right hub has blue binding cloth."
"Why?"
"Temporary wrap after a wheel repair three weeks ago."
Anata stopped.
A very small movement.
I saw.
"What?"
She looked toward Mara.
"Blue cloth?"
"Yes."
"Dark blue?"
Mara nodded.
Anata swore.
Everyone became quiet.
"When?"
I asked.
"After the bakery."
My exhaustion disappeared for approximately one heartbeat.
"Where?"
"East grain road."
"Time?"
She gave it.
Marcus wrote.
"Direction?"
"East."
"Driver?"
"Couldn't see."
"Princess?"
"No."
"Why didn't you report it?"
The question came sharper than intended.
Anata's face changed.
Not guilt.
Resistance.
"Because it was Riverglass."
There.
She looked at me.
"I saw a Westbridge-linked wagon moving through an evacuation route. That had happened all day."
Correct.
Painfully.
"Any escort?"
"No."
"That should have been strange."
"It was after your people had abandoned several wagons and redistributed drivers."
Also correct.
I stopped.
This was not the moment to turn hindsight into intelligence.
"Fine."
Anata did not relax.
I corrected again.
"No. Not fine. Understandable."
Better.
Barely.
She looked toward the board.
"I noticed the blue hub because the cloth was loose."
"Anything else?"
"One rear lamp broken."
Mara frowned.
"It wasn't broken this morning."
That mattered.
Marcus added it.
A missing allied wagon.
Seen east after the kidnapping.
No princess visible.
No proof they used it.
But—
probable.
Very probable.
Chessmaster began moving.
I shut it down.
Not yet.
We counted first.
---
Korr arrived nineteen minutes later.
She stayed near the door.
Did not remove her coat.
"I have ten minutes."
"You're not coming?"
"No."
"The princess—"
"Is your problem."
I stared.
She continued.
"The south district still has two withdrawal cells unaccounted for. Ward captains are trying to reopen roads before we know which buildings are safe. Three of my people are in treatment. Two transport crews are missing."
Not dead.
Missing.
Could be displaced.
Could be injured.
Could have gone home.
Unknown.
"So no," she said. "I'm not running across Catington because you finally have a direction."
Correct.
Again.
The day had become unbearable.
"What do you have?"
Korr approached the map.
Three retreat groups.
One went south, then scattered.
One crossed toward river markets.
One moved east after abandoning weapons in a service courtyard.
"Any vehicle?"
"Several."
"Riverglass?"
She looked at Mara.
"Maybe."
Mara showed the blue-hub description.
Korr nodded slowly.
"One of my runners reported a cold wagon near Old Tile Market."
"When?"
Marcus was already writing.
Korr gave the time.
Five minutes after Anata's sighting.
Location farther east.
"Still moving east."
"Yes."
"Then East Gate."
Merrow spoke immediately.
"Closed."
"Commercial exceptions?"
"Medical and emergency food movement allowed under inspection."
Riverglass possessed both associations now.
Cold storage.
Emergency logistics.
A stolen Riverglass wagon was almost perfect camouflage.
I looked at the map.
Bakery.
East grain road.
Old Tile Market.
Then East Gate.
"They're leaving."
Korr did not agree.
I noticed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That is a lie."
"I think you're moving too quickly."
"Direction is consistent."
"For two sightings."
"Three if we count missing vehicle."
"That is not a sighting."
I disliked her intensely.
"What would you do?"
"Track the withdrawal teams."
"That doesn't recover her."
"No. It tells me whether your route is the only route."
She looked toward Marcus.
"Keep my reports separate."
Then at me.
"And stop stealing every person who knows the city. Some of us are still keeping it alive."
She left.
No permission.
No argument.
The loading door shut.
Merrow watched her go.
"She speaks to you like that often?"
"Less often than she should."
Xavier looked surprised.
"So this attack injured your brain."
Possibly.
---
Balthazar arrived carrying a leather case and an expression suggesting he had not slept in several years.
Elisabeth followed him.
That surprised me.
"You're supposed to be at the Guild Hall."
"I was."
"And?"
"Eulalie is resting."
"Voluntarily?"
"No."
Good.
Elisabeth placed Balthazar's case on the table.
"Show him."
"I know how to open my own case."
"Then do it faster."
Their friendship was developing beautifully.
Inside lay one of the portable restraint devices.
Inactive.
Broken hinge.
Black matrix visible between the metal channels.
Balthazar pointed with a wooden stylus.
"This section."
"What?"
"Heat discoloration."
I leaned closer.
A dark brown line ran beside one rail.
"From the bakery?"
"Yes."
"Meaning?"
"They ran it too hard."
"How long can it operate?"
"I don't know."
"Estimate."
"No."
"Balthazar."
He glared.
"I have one damaged device, one partially broken device and fragments from a fixed lattice. If I give you a number, you will turn it into a deadline."
He knew me too well.
"What can you say?"
"The portable design does not like continuous high-output containment."
"Why?"
"The matrix carries resistance unevenly. Heat builds along the contact rails. Maybe a better unit lasts longer. Maybe lower output extends operation. Maybe they cycle devices."
"Can it hold someone for hours?"
He hesitated.
"At the strength I saw at the bakery? I would not design around that assumption."
There.
Merrow understood at the same moment I did.
"They need a prepared holding point."
"Likely," Balthazar said.
"Before leaving the city?"
"If the city exit requires inspection, movement, maybe transfer between vehicles..."
He shrugged.
"I would want a stable device first."
Want.
Not know.
Still useful.
My route to East Gate weakened.
Not disappeared.
Changed.
If they had a fixed holding site near the eastern side, they could stabilize the princess before moving her beyond the city.
I looked at the map.
"Municipal buildings."
Merrow shook his head.
"Too many."
"Old ward infrastructure."
"Still too many."
Balthazar added:
"The larger lattice used municipal measurements."
"Yes."
"Which means whoever built it knew how to integrate into prepared stone."
Old contractor records.
Maintenance archives.
Not random basement.
They wanted a site where they could install anchors properly.
Merrow's finger moved over the eastern district.
Then stopped.
"No."
I looked.
"What?"
He said nothing for several seconds.
"Captain."
"Old East Sluice works."
Mara looked up.
"The flood station?"
"You know it?"
"Every river merchant knows it. New control works made half the old system redundant."
"When?"
"Years ago."
Merrow pointed.
"Service tunnels from the Crown Garden irrigation network used to terminate near the same water-control system."
The tunnels from the attack.
My attention sharpened.
"Still connected?"
"Not officially."
That phrase had been doing terrible work today.
"What is down there?"
"Maintenance chambers. Old flood gates. Storage. Inspection shafts."
"Fixed ward infrastructure?"
"Yes."
"And access to river?"
Merrow looked unhappy.
"Yes."
There.
A place inside the city.
Connected to old municipal architecture.
Connected indirectly to the same underground infrastructure they had already studied.
Close enough to the river for later extraction.
East of the bakery.
Before the actual gate.
My first model died.
Good.
We did not need an exit.
We needed a transfer station.
Marcus moved one chalk line.
Bakery.
Grain road.
Tile Market.
East Sluice.
The route fit.
Too well.
I immediately distrusted it.
"What contradicts this?"
Silence.
"Find something."
Mara pointed at the map.
"Wagon route."
"What?"
"You can't take a Riverglass wagon directly to the old sluice from Tile Market."
"Why?"
"Stone steps on the southern approach."
Xavier leaned closer.
"Other side?"
"Narrow service ramp north."
"How long?"
"Adds maybe six or seven minutes."
Marcus checked sightings.
"Still possible."
Not proof.
But survived contradiction.
Better.
Anata looked at the eastern streets.
"I know that ramp."
Everyone turned.
"Why?"
"Celcium training route."
Of course.
"Faster on foot?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
She gave me a look.
"I'm not promising."
"Good."
I meant it.
Mostly.
---
Arkad came anyway.
We found him outside Riverglass when we were leaving.
Sword at his side.
Elisabeth behind him looking murderous.
"I said no."
Arkad ignored her.
"Where?"
"East."
"I'm coming."
"Close your hand."
He stared.
"Raymond."
"Close it."
His right hand became a fist.
Tremor.
Small.
Enough.
"Again."
"Stop."
"Can you hold your sword for twenty minutes?"
"Yes."
"Can you fight after running?"
His silence answered.
He hated it.
I understood that too.
"Guild Hall needs someone people recognize."
"That is pity."
"No. It is a doorway."
His expression changed.
The word mattered.
That was his terrain.
Hold.
Protect.
Be the thing others could move behind.
"You get her," he said.
Not a request.
"We find her."
His eyes narrowed.
"Get her."
Then he turned back toward Elisabeth.
She looked at me.
"Thank you."
"Don't make it emotional."
"Too late."
They left.
Xavier watched.
"You're getting better."
"At what?"
"Not pretending people can do things they can't."
I considered insulting him.
No time.
We ran.
---
Catington after the attack felt more frightening than during it.
During battle, danger announced itself.
Smoke.
Noise.
Weapons.
Now streets were quiet in patches.
Ward patrols moved quickly.
Shopkeepers stood in broken doorways counting damage.
People searched lists nailed to walls.
Several buildings still smoked.
Water ran black along the gutters.
Rex remained outside my shadow.
I needed the mana.
Nobody complained about the manticore this time.
Municipal priorities had evolved.
Anata led.
Not me.
We crossed the old academy road, cut behind a tannery, then entered a narrow rise between stone warehouses.
My ribs hurt.
No dramatic collapse.
Just every breath becoming slightly more expensive.
Xavier noticed.
Said nothing.
Respect.
The Old Tile Market had been abandoned during the attack.
Half the stalls overturned.
Clay fragments everywhere.
Korr had left one runner.
He pointed before we spoke.
"Wagon."
Behind the covered hall.
Riverglass Twelve.
Mara's blue cloth hung from the rear hub.
The lamp was broken.
Door open.
Empty.
Merrow reached it first.
"Highness!"
Nothing.
Of course.
The inside smelled faintly of Riverglass cold wards.
And smoke.
One restraint band lay on the floor.
Black.
Broken clasp.
Anata crouched.
"Transfer."
"Probably."
Merrow searched the compartment.
No blood.
No royal cloth.
No proof she had actually been inside.
Then Xavier found something.
Flour.
A pale handprint on the inner wall.
Not much.
Could belong to bakery cargo.
Except Riverglass Twelve had been empty before theft.
Mara's driver confirmed no flour transport that morning.
The princess had spent almost an hour inside a flour room.
Her apron had been covered in it.
Merrow touched the print.
"She was here."
Confirmed enough.
Not location now.
But route.
I looked at the wagon wheels.
No horse.
Harness cut away.
They had transferred again.
Anata was already at the north exit.
"Door."
A warehouse service door stood open twenty meters away.
Old municipal mark above it.
Faded.
Merrow recognized it.
"Sluice maintenance."
There.
Too easy.
I stopped.
"Don't enter."
Merrow turned.
"What?"
"If they left the wagon here, they know someone may find it."
"So?"
"So the door may be the next thing they want us to see."
He hated that.
I hated it too.
Xavier walked toward the warehouse wall.
Pressed his palm against the stone.
Earth affinity.
Not magic vision.
Feeling structure.
"There's a corridor behind it."
"Movement?"
"No."
Anata circled around the exterior.
Two minutes.
Returned.
"Rear exit sealed."
"Roof?"
"Accessible."
"Signs?"
"Fresh boot marks near upper hatch."
Could still be decoy.
We needed more.
Then Rex growled at the drainage grate.
Everyone looked.
He moved toward it.
Sniffed.
Another growl.
"What?"
I asked.
He could not explain.
Excellent partnership.
Merrow crouched.
Something small had caught against the iron.
Black thread.
Not royal.
Not bakery.
Could be anything.
Beside it—
white flour.
Washed partly into the drain.
A trail from the wagon toward the maintenance door.
Not deliberate.
Transfer residue.
Enough.
"We go."
---
Two attackers were waiting inside.
Not twenty.
That confirmed nothing.
The first fired a short bolt from the upper stair.
Anata saw the movement.
"LEFT!"
We moved.
Bolt struck stone.
Xavier raised a low ridge across the corridor.
Second attacker came from behind a maintenance cabinet.
Blade.
Merrow intercepted.
I took the upper stairs.
Too fast.
My side protested.
I slowed.
Tavian's lesson again.
The attacker above reloaded.
Anata's arrow struck the weapon, knocking it sideways.
I reached him.
He abandoned the crossbow.
Good training.
Knife came out.
Board Sight narrowed.
One body.
One stair.
Easy geometry.
My body disagreed slightly.
He struck.
I moved enough.
Not beautifully.
His knife scraped my guard.
I drove my shoulder into his chest.
We both hit the wall.
Pain.
My ribs threatened rebellion.
He recovered faster.
Of course.
Xavier's water whipped across the stair beneath his feet.
He slipped one step.
That was all I needed.
Gravity.
Short.
His next landing became heavy.
Knee buckled.
I took the knife.
Merrow shouted below.
His opponent fled deeper instead of continuing.
Rear guard.
Delay.
Not victory.
"Alive!" I shouted.
Merrow changed the angle of his saber at the last moment.
The attacker struck the wall and fell.
Conscious.
Barely.
No interrogation yet.
No time.
Anata bound his hands with his own belt.
Efficient.
"Stay?"
"No."
"We leave a prisoner?"
Merrow looked at him.
Then removed his Royal signal whistle and gave three sharp notes.
A Ward patrol would come.
Good.
We continued.
---
The stairs descended farther than expected.
Stone changed halfway down.
Newer brick above.
Older blocks below.
Water sounded somewhere ahead.
Not river yet.
Mechanical channel.
Xavier touched one wall.
"Hollow space."
Merrow nodded.
"Old pressure chamber."
"You've been here?"
"Once. Training."
"Useful education."
He ignored me.
At the next junction, three paths.
No signs.
Of course.
Merrow pointed right.
"River control."
Left.
"Inspection galleries."
Forward.
"Old gate machinery."
"Fixed wards?"
"Forward."
There.
We went forward.
Ground Resonance.
Narrow.
Current movement only.
Nothing.
Ten steps.
Again.
Movement.
Far.
Several contacts.
I stopped.
Held up fingers.
Five?
No.
Signal noisy.
Water machinery.
Could be seven.
Could be twelve.
I closed it.
"People ahead."
"How many?" Merrow asked.
"I don't know."
He accepted that faster now.
Character development through catastrophe.
Anata extinguished the small hand lamp.
Darkness.
A faint black-blue glow existed farther down.
Artificial.
Balthazar's matrix?
Maybe.
We moved slowly.
Rex's claws clicked against stone.
I placed a hand against his mane.
Quiet.
He tried.
Manticores were not built for subtle floors.
The corridor opened onto a balcony above an old circular chamber.
I looked over the edge.
And found the princess.
Alive.
Still in Hella's apron.
Hands restrained in front of her.
Sitting against one of four fixed black anchors.
A full lattice surrounded the center platform.
Stronger than the bakery device.
Smaller than the intersection structure.
Prepared.
The half-mask commander stood beside her.
Six attackers visible.
Two more near a river gate.
And someone else.
A figure in a pale coat stood across the chamber near a narrow boat moored behind the old flood door.
Face hidden beneath a hood.
Not dressed like the attackers.
Not armed visibly.
Waiting.
Receiver.
Maybe.
No conclusions.
The princess raised her head.
For one second, I thought she saw me.
Impossible at that angle.
Then I saw what she was actually looking at.
The old water clock mounted high on the opposite wall.
Counting.
Observing.
Remembering.
Still working.
Good.
She had not stopped thinking.
The half-mask commander spoke to the pale figure.
Too far to hear.
The pale figure looked toward the flood gate.
One attacker began turning the old mechanism.
Water moved below.
They were preparing the next transfer.
Not outside Catington yet.
But close.
Merrow's hand tightened around his saber.
Xavier crouched beside me.
Anata already had an arrow between her fingers.
Rex's breathing changed.
I looked at the anchors.
At the guards.
At the boat.
At the princess.
At the unknown receiver.
We had found the road they used.
That did not mean we owned its end.