Clean hands

In the morning, the messenger had disappeared. The faction guard denied having seen him; his look said the opposite.

The day before, he had admitted to letting him in. Zaelyra does not contradict him. Reminding him in front of the post would have turned a confidence into an accusation.

Zaelyra found Vhaelyn in the secondary prayer room. Her sister had removed the ornaments from her dress and rubbed her fingers with scented water. She stopped when she saw Zaelyra.

A trace of ink resisted under the nail of his index finger. Vhaelyn rubbed again, then hid his hand in his sleeve.

"Rhylor?"

"The temple released him. He is assigned to his quarters."

"Why?"

"He didn't confess anything. Vhaelyn dried his hands. "And he didn't deny anything."

"You know what he used to do?"

"No. I know what people are claiming. It's different."

A sidekick appeared in the doorway. "The Matron asks for the two girls."

Zesstra received them in front of the wall map. She had moved the black wires. The way of the cistern was now connected to the forges district and the Bazaar.

The order of the previous day remained in force; the Matron was now specifying the conditions on the ground.

"Cargos disappear in the lower galleries," she says. "Weapons, food, sometimes people. If this road is used against the House, we must close it."

"What if it is used to get families out? Zaelyra asked.

"A family can become a cargo as soon as it costs soldiers."

Vhaelyn turned pale. "Mother."

"I'm not asking you to like the answer. I ask you to understand its price. Zesstra placed two tablets in front of them. "Vhaelyn will lead the guards. Zaelyra will make the statement. You will find the entrance to the cistern and identify those who use it. Nym will accompany you under escort. Rhylor will stay here."

Vhaelyn put the copy of the two seals on the table. "The order of the temple requires the transfer of Nym before the next ignition."

"I know. The House postpones this transfer until the end of the inspection. You will have returned before the ignition of Narbondel."

"What if we're not?"

"Then the temple will receive it with my report and yours. I take responsibility for the delay, not its cancellation."

Vhaelyn folded the copy. "The temple will ask who has decided."

"He will have my name."

The Matron had not raised her voice. She offered neither refuge nor forgiveness; she set a limit that she was ready to defend until the next ignition.

"You separate him from the road because he knows it," says Zaelyra.

"I separate him from you because you listen to him."

His mother did not raise her voice. She didn't need it.

Later, in the corridor, Vhaelyn caught up with Zaelyra.

"If you still hide things, I won't be able to cover you."

"I'm not asking you to do it."

"Yes. Every time you let me discover the danger after you, you ask me."

Zaelyra wanted to answer, but no word seemed honest to her.

Vhaelyn joined her near the stairs that led to the guard quarters. She had replaced the wax tablet with a rolled map.

"Why did you agree to drive the patrol? Zaelyra asked.

"If I had refused, Mother would have sent a priestess who considers each prisoner as a pending offering."

"Do you think you can prevent it?"

"I can slow things down. Sometimes, that's all there is to do."

She unrolled the map. The official line bypassed the Three Echoes by a longer, wider corridor monitored by two guard posts. Zaelyra recognized a fresh correction.

"This road does not reach the cistern."

"No. She joins the checkpoint that keeps access to it."

"Someone wants us to arrive in front of the priestesses."

"Or that we have a reason to come back."

Vhaelyn folded the map. "If you find another way, tell me before you take it."

"I'll try."

"It's not a promise."

"No. But it's the truth."

His sister nodded. "It's more than what I had yesterday."

Zaelyra felt the answer cost her. She would have preferred to promise that she would do everything just right. She now knew that a promise could become another false map.

When the lamps fell, Vhaelyn gathered the patrol. She had the lamps, ropes and water reserves checked, then asked everyone to name the person who would take over if the group were to separate.

A young soldier replied that he had no one.

"Then choose someone here," says Vhaelyn.

He appointed a guard of the same age. She protested, then tyed her rope to hers.

"You can hold the exits, but no one shoots without my order. If travelers appear, you hold them on the cheek and wait."

Zaelyra understood what her sister was trying to do. A patrol that knew the names of its members would hesitate more before treating fugitives as cargo. Vhaelyn did not become sweeter; she simply made blind obedience more difficult.

Nym observed the preparation without comment. Near the door, he stopped in front of a small cart loaded with boxes.

"The left wheel is split."

The head guard put his hand on his blade. "You're not here to inspect our carts."

"If it breaks in the slope, you will lose the boxes. If they contain provisions, you will also lose your mission."

Vhaelyn sent the guard to check. The wheel was well split.

"You see? There are ways to make a prisoner useful without asking him to choose a camp," says Nym.

"And there are ways to stay alive without teaching his escort a lesson," Vhaelyn replied.

Nym smiles. "I'm still learning them."

The patrol set off. Nym advanced between two guards, his wrists free but monitored. Vhaelyn led the group; Zaelyra carried the official map, whose route had been corrected to avoid the places they already knew.

At the first crossroads, Zaelyra noticed on the face of the pillar visible from the three branches three lines of chalk, almost erased. The drawing recalled that of the old parchment and the scribe's wax, without proving that it came from the same hand.

She continued without slowing down.

She didn't know if the lines indicated a route, a warning or something else. She noted their location without choosing between these readings.

The young guard of the slit wheel had seen it too. She placed herself near Vhaelyn, without taking her eyes off the pillar.

"We should go back to the House," she said. "If someone observes, he knows that we have noticed it."

"If he observes us, he will also know that we have changed our route."

"What if he waits for the cistern?"

Vhaelyn asked him to name the three closest exits. The guard appointed two. The third was behind her, through a passage wide enough for one person.

"If we turn around, we will all be forced to go through this door," says Vhaelyn. "If we continue, we keep two options."

The young woman looked at Nym, then Zaelyra. "What if it's a trap?"

"So we won't go in without checking it."