The Traitor Queen Read Free Page B

of Skellin’s specific plans? He opened his mouth
     to ask, but Worm turned to stare at Cery.
    “I show you this so you know. But you can’t stay,” he said. “We will take you out in a safe place, but that is all.”
    Cery nodded. “It’s more than I’d hoped for,” he replied, putting all his gratitude into his tone.
    “If you must come back, speak my name and you will live, but we will take you out again.”
    “I understand.”
    Worm held Cery’s gaze for a little longer, then nodded. “Where do you want to go?”
    Cery looked at Anyi and Gol. His daughter looked anxious, and Gol looked pale and exhausted. Where could they go? They had
     few favours left to them, and no safe place within easy reach. No allies they could trust or risk endangering.
Except one
. Cery turned back to Worm.
    “Take us back the way we came.”
    The man spoke a word to the youths who had rescued Cery and his companions. Worm gestured to indicate Cery should follow them;
     then, without voicing a farewell, he walked away. Taking that as a Slig custom, Cery turned also.
    The journey out of Slig territory was slower, which Cery was grateful for. Now that fear and relief had both passed, he was
     tired. A gloom settled over him. Gol was dragging his feet, too. At least Anyi had youthful stamina on her side. Cery began
     to recognise the walls around them, then the Slig guides meltedaway into the darkness. The lamp Cery was carrying spluttered and died as it ran out of oil. Gol did not protest as Cery took
     his lamp and led them to the entrance to the Guild passages.
    When they had slipped through and the door was closed again, Cery felt much of the tension and fear leave him. They were safe
     at last. He turned to Anyi.
    “So where is this room you and Lilia meet in?”
    She took the lamp, leading him and Gol down the long, straight passage. After a side turn, they reached a complex of rooms
     connected by twisting corridors. An unwelcome memory rose of being locked in the dark, imprisoned by Lord Fergun, and Cery
     shivered. But these rooms were different: older and with a feel of deliberate confusion to the arrangement. Anyi took them
     into a room cleaned of dust, with a few small wooden boxes for furniture and a pile of worn pillows for seating. At one end
     was a bricked-up chimney. She set the lamp down, then lit a few candles in alcoves carved into the walls.
    “This is it,” she said. “I’d have brought in more furniture but I couldn’t carry anything big and I didn’t want to draw attention.”
    “No beds.” Gol settled down onto one of the boxes with a groan. Cery smiled at his old friend.
    “Don’t worry. We’ll sort something out.”
    But Gol’s grimace didn’t soften. Cery frowned as he noticed that Gol’s hands were pressed to his side under his shirt. Then
     he saw the dark stain, glistening in the candle light.
    “Gol …?”
    The big man closed his eyes and swayed.
    “Gol!” Anyi exclaimed, reaching his side at the same time as Cery. They caught Gol before he could fall off the box. Anyi
     dragged pillows over.
    “Lie down,” she ordered. “Let me look at that.”
    Cery could not speak. Fear had frozen his mind and throat. The assassin must have stabbed Gol during the fight. Or perhaps
     before he woke up, and Cery had only seen Gol stop the second stab.
    Anyi bullied Gol off the box and onto the pillows, pulling his hand away and peeling back the shirt to reveal a small wound
     in his belly, slowly seeping blood.
    “All this time.” Cery shook his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
    “It wasn’t that bad.” Gol shrugged, then winced. “Didn’t start hurting until we were talking to Worm.”
    “I bet it does now,” Anyi said. “How deep do you think it went?”
    “Not far. I don’t know.” Gol coughed in pain.
    “This could be worse than it looks.” Anyi sat back on her heels and looked up at Cery. “I’ll get Lilia.”
    “No …” Gol protested.
    “It was only a few