|[ DEATH'S APPRENTICE ]|

[Chapter Eight]

I could feel Malik's angry glare on my back as I walked. It felt like something hot was resting on my skin, in the middle of my shoulder blades, and I realised that he no doubt plotting his revenge. We had removed our hoods, the rain having stopped, though a bitter wind remained. On either side of us buildings stood stoically, their walls cracked in places, with many windows boarded up. We had passed a few others, scavengers trying to find anything of use, and hidden from a few Patrol officers. Thankfully Malik hadn't needed to touch me again.

"Down the next street is where the guard grows heavier." Tim said, turning to face us both. He stopped, and pointed towards the entrance of a side street. We edged closer and glanced down it. I noticed Malik had shifted close to me, his arm going out across my chest and stopping me from moving further.

"There are officers on the rooves, though they won't cast us much concern unless we're seen past this area." Tim continued, "You see those gates down there?" he pointed and could make out the black lines of an iron wrought gate. Barbed arrow heads lined the top of it. "That is one of the six gated entrances into the Tower. So of course, the King has all of them watched."

"So which way do we go?" I asked. If not the rooves, or the street, that meant...

"We could go through the buildings, but there is a high chance of attracting attention and it is easy to get lost or trapped in those rooms. The easiest way is beneath them. We need to go underground. In the sewer system." Tim nodded and beckoned for us to follow. We left the guarded street behind us, Malik occasionally glancing over his shoulder as if worried we would be followed. Tim seemed undisturbed and led us to a small grate on the corner of a building. He glanced around quickly, checking to see if anyone was watching. When satisfied we were not being observed he grasped the bars of the grate. With a grunt he pulled it away and slipped through. I heard him land heavily. "Okay, now you come down." Malik gestured for me to go.

"Why me first?" I snapped, unwilling to fall down into the darkness. Malik sighed and gave me a small nudge.

"I need to put the grate back into place." He said, "Unless you think you're strong enough to move it?" I gave him a sour look before lowering myself to the lip of the open grate. Under my hands the ground was cold, and slimy, and my fingers slipped more than once as I gently eased down. Hanging from my hands I let go and fell, landing heavily on my hands and knees. Pain sparked up my shins like burning embers under my skin, but I quickly straightened up, brushing the muck off my clothes. Above me I could hear Malik shifting the grate back into place. I glanced up to see him holding onto one of the bars, using his foot against the wall to move it. A second later he dropped down beside me, landing smoothly, with a light thud. Everything Malik did was smooth. The way he talked, the way he moved. Even just standing still, everything about him was smooth and seemingly effortless. I envied him – though I would never let him know that. It was only practice. That was all. He had had years to perfect his skills. I'd had a few days.

I glanced in both directions, unable to see further than a few metres. The light from the grate was weak, and I knew if we moved on we'd be fumbling in darkness.

"Do we have any lamps?" I asked, looking between Malik and Tim. Tim pulled a small lighter from one of his pockets and a small flame burst into existence.

"Works for me," Malik said swiftly, "Now. Which way?" he looked at Tim. Tim grinned – he seemed excited that he knew something Malik didn't.

"This way." Tim nodded and began walking. The sewer wasn't very tall, or wide, and a steady trickle of dark liquid worked its way alongside us. His footsteps splashed on the wet ground and I ignored the stench that was working its way into my head. I took shallow breaths, trying to breathe in as little as possible.