Page 107 of Throwing Fire

Acker glances up as soon as he hears our footsteps and his shoulders visibly relax. “Thank you, my friend. Our captive proves more slippery than expected,” he says.

“Any idea where he is?”

Acker nods. “There’s an exit ahead. Your surveillance system went off, but the exit is still sealed, so he must be between us and the exit.”

“How far’s the exit?”

“A hundred meters. It is not a simple exit. There’s a climb through old piping.”

“Where’s it lead?”

“The Splendid Pillars,” Kez says unexpectedly. Either she knows this entrance, or she’s got an even better sense of direction than I do. I could have said we were south of the Night Market, but beyond that, I’m not sure where we are, or what we’re under.

Acker nods again. “There is a basement beneath the Pillars.”

“So they’re not natural,” I say. The Splendid Pillars are a pair of weird magnetic columns that thrust up out of the sand south of Tiv. They’re not much more than a tourist attraction, since no one has been able to figure out what they do. Or even if they’re natural or alien-made, since the metal isn’t anything known to man.

Acker’s white teeth flash in the reddish light. “Someday I will show you all the wonders of the Deeps, my friend.”

“Yeah, tour’ll have to wait.” I turn to Kez. “You stay here with Match.”

Her chin lifts, and she gives me the blue death-glare.

“There’re wounded behind us. If the Ojos gets past Acker and me,I need you and Match to stop him from getting back to Tiancha and the others. Do whatever you have to do.”

Kez immediately nods. She unwinds monofilament from her bracer but doesn’t start it glowing. Smart kitten.

Acker pats Match on the shoulder. The grizzled rat-man steps aside so I can pass him in the tunnel. As I move by, Match catches my forearm with his unweaponized hand. “’Um don’t hesitate,” he tells me.

“You, neither,” I respond.

He gives me an approving nod and lets me go.

The tunnel’s wide enough for me and Acker to walk side by side, but only just. After the second time he bumps my sword-hand, I transfer the katana to my left hand and draw a short knife with my right. Acker’s carrying one of the kukris I made for him, but he’s still got it sheathed at his waist.

“Word of advice,” I whisper to him. “Take out your damn knife.”

Acker grunts but does what I tell him. “How do you intend to climb with both hands full?”

I don’t. Because I don’t believe I’ll need to. The Ojos is a brainwashed kid, but he’s had some training. He won’t get cornered in a pipe.

I’m right about that, as it turns out, but wrong about the climbing. The kid chooses the top of a long flight of metal stairs to ambush us, and it’s only Acker’s free hand that saves him from falling as the kid rushes us.

I back up against the rail of the top step, tuck my chin to my neck so the kid’s strike hits my jaw instead of my throat, and sweep his leg while he’s stepping back for the next attack. He stumbles instead of falling – give the kid points for balance – and launches himself at me again. “You said you’d get me out!” he howls at me.

I ball my knife in my fist and smash it into the kid’s stomach. “I told you to be patient,” I growl.

“You abandoned me to the Debased!” He staggers but rushes me again. Tenacious fucker. This time he aims for my right knee, whereI’ve got most of my weight as I straddle two risers. I block the kick that would have broken my knee and follow up with a punch to his thigh, aiming for the femoral nerve. My first knuckle crunches between the handle of my blade and the thigh-plate of his body armor, but the rest of my fist connects solidly. The kid drops, screaming and clutching his leg, which is good because I won’t be hitting anything with my right hand for a while. Fuck, that hurts.

“Stay down,” I growl at him.

The kid wriggles in pain but doesn’t try to get up. I sheathe the knife gingerly. Feels like my knuckle is broken. I should have told the damn rats to strip him.

“Now what?” Acker asks as he pulls himself up to the top step. He sounds winded. I didn’t see where the kid hit him on his initial charge, only that he connected and Acker fell back several steps before catching the handrail.

“Now we all go back to our respective cells,” I say. “Your guest room leaves somethin’ to be desired, by the way?—“

I’m interrupted by the kid’s movement. He gathers his good leg for a kick, a kick that could send Acker tumbling down the stairs, since the rat-man’s standing in the middle of the riser now, nowhere near the handrail.

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