Page 47 of Fallen Nocturne

There is no time to argue. I grab the informer’s arm and pull her toward the cellar door. She stumbles, leaning heavily against me, and I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her upright. The wound in her side is deep, and blood is already soaking through her clothes. We move as quickly as she can manage.

Behind us the Orkan barkeeper roars a challenge and steel answers. Someone screams. The cellar stairs are steep and dark and I half-carry the informer down them, one hand on the wall to keep us upright.

At the bottom, a tunnel opens before us, its rough-hewn stone walls dripping with water and reeking of old earth and rot. My arm throbs where the knife caught me. The informer’s breathing worsens with every step, and she leaves a trail of blood behind us.

The sounds of fighting continue above us. Then silence falls. I don’t know whether the barkeep survived or surrendered. I can only hope she made it out.

The tunnel branches, and we take the eastern path. It divides again, then once more. The passages twist beneath the city in every direction. It is a maze down here.

“Who built this?” I ask, more to keep the informer conscious than from real curiosity.

“Smugglers. Deserters. People who... who need to disappear.” Her voice is weak. “Akilla uses the tunnels to hide lesser fae and groundlings. Sometimes she gets them out of Hellsmouth entirely.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Akilla?”

“The Orkan who owns the tavern.”

I glance at her. “Hide them from whom?”

“The fae nobility.” Her mouth twists bitterly. “Eirik stopped caring what happens to those beneath their notice. The noble houses take what they want now. Coin. Homes. Anyone who refuses them is beaten, imprisoned or simply vanishes.”

I think of the king who once stopped my own people from burning me alive. I barely recognize the person she is describing.

We emerge into a larger chamber. Three tunnels branch off. I pause, listening.

Footsteps echo through the passage behind us, distant but growing closer.

They’re following.

“Can you run?” I ask the informer.

She shakes her head. “Leave me. You need to—”

“No.”

I don’t know why I refuse. I don’t know this girl. I owe her nothing. The gold has already been paid and the information delivered. Perhaps my mate’s habit of trying to save everyone is catching up with me.

The footsteps grow louder. I study the three tunnels. The eastern passage is the obvious choice, which means it is the one they will expect us to take. The northern tunnel slopes upward, while the southern one descends deeper beneath the city.

I choose south.

We stumble down the descending path. The informer’s weight grows heavier against me. She’s fading.

“Stay with me,” I say. “Just a little farther.”

The tunnel opens into a natural cave. An underground stream flows through its center, rushing over dark stones. The sound echoes from the walls, loud and disorienting.

I lower the informer against the wall. Her hood has fallen back.

She is a young groundling fae with dark hair plastered to her face and gray eyes that reflect the light strangely.

Perhaps it is a foolish question to ask a fellow fae, but I need to keep her talking. “What’s your name?”

She smiles weakly. “We don’t give out our names at a first meeting.”

“Then what do I call you?”

“Elle.”