“No. Nothing so strange. Next day, in throne room, Shah makes sad announcement. Poor Old Friend took P’naki not blessed by Shah. Pity. Poor Old Friend is dead. Same happen to anyone taking P’naki not blessed by Shah.” She put down the bottle and hefted Dovidi over her shoulder, patting him until he burped loudly. When she offered the bottle again, he seized it and sucked strongly. “Later I see Old Friend out in front of palace, in chair, people poking him, whispering about what happens when people take P’naki Shah did not bless.”
“I see. Once the old guy is no longer in a position to help the Shah, he’d rather give the good stuff to some other old guy. And at the same time, he warns them off trying to get the good stuff by themselves.”
“You say very accurately. Oh, very accurately.”
They sat for a time in companionable silence, broken when Aufors reached out a hand to touch his child, still suckling.
“He seems to like that stuff.”
“Good. I have nothing else to try, so it is good he likes this.”
“So, what now?”
“What now? Well, night is over, so we cannot go now. So we wait until night comes again. Then if baby is all right, not crying, not fussing, we go through burrow to place near wall. Danger will come, so refuge
tells us, from Shah’s men, but Shah cannot get back with all his men for another day or two, so this should be easy. Then we go out malghaste gate, and away. Like Tenopia.”
“I heard about Tenopia. Seven days ago, Genevieve ran off, like Tenopia, right?”
“Good role model,” said Awhero, with a gap-toothed grin. “We go south, where Genevieve is, most likely.”
They waited. Awhero offered tea. Aufors got out his food pack and offered bread and dried meat. He went through his pockets, saw that the second lichen specimen was dry, crushed it to powder, wrapped it a bit more securely, and returned it to his breast pocket. The flat packet made no bulge. He could not even feel it through the fabric.
“You got that P’naki where women’s bodies were, right?” asked Awhero, “You could sell that for fancy price on another world. What will you do with it?”
“Test it,” he murmured, without explaining what it was. “See what it’s made of, chemically.”
When they had eaten, they napped, and when Aufors awoke, the little light that had seeped down the stair was gone. They prepared for their journey in moments. The boy carried a light pack. Awhero carried the baby inside her robe. Aufors carried his own pack, mostly food and water, plus his weapon, locator, and glasses. Awhero said he looked quite dirty enough to be true malghaste.
They went up the stairs to a slightly higher network of tunnels, one that led through the walls of contiguous houses, dropping here and there to go under an alleyway.
Awhero stopped, listening. “People out there,” she said. “We’ll go around.”
“The place near palace,” suggested Kamakama. “Where I lost them yesterday.”
They went around, a longer way, farther down, coming up at last to a place where torchlight fell in from a high, barred window.
“Two turns right,” whispered the boy. “It opens in alley near palace. Then we have to cross little way to get to malghaste gate.”
They found the narrow notch behind a buttress at the end of a blind alley, the way blocked by a tumble of trash that, remarkably, hung all together and swung away on silent hinges when pushed from behind. They oozed through the hole, Aufors in the lead, then started for the alley entrance. Directly across from it was a malghaste gate, marked by the dung-bucket that hung above it. They waited at the alley entrance. Nothing.
They went out into the open area where a sudden, blinding light fell upon them from all directions and a stentorian voice bellowed:
“Halt! Stand where you are! Be silent!”
“I thought you said the Shah couldn’t get back so soon,” cried Aufors to Awhero, under his breath. He had no chance to say more, for he was struck violently on the head with the butt of a weapon.