The doors of Veyr

The courtyard was a tangle of silhouettes, screams and blades sparkling in the dark. Zaelyra did not try to reach Rhylor directly. She went to the harrow mechanism, where two guards held the chain.

"Open the inner door! She shouted.

One of the guards recognized her. "The Matron ordered it to be kept closed."

"The Matron is not here."

Brakka hit the lever with the handle of his axe. The harrow rose half a meter, then froze. Nym passed underneath and slipped to the other side.

"We must release the wheel! He shouted.

Zaelyra turned the winch with the guard. The mechanism creaked. The harrow rose enough to let one person pass at a time.

The refugees from the reserve began to cross. Pell helped the children. Tazri, still mute, guided Sszindi. Brakka returned to hold the corridor while Zaelyra searched for Rhylor in the shadows.

The passage was not wide enough for two people in front. A woman stopped in the middle, unable to go down the step. Behind her, a child was crying and the silhouettes of the mercenaries moved in the smoke.

"Look at me," says Zaelyra. "Not the door."

The woman stared at her face.

"Set your foot on the light stone. Pell is on the other side. You don't need to go faster than him."

She advanced. The child stopped crying when he found his mother.

A tile hit the winch. Nym jumped to the other side of the harrow and stuck the mechanism with an iron bar. The door remained raised narrowly.

"How long? Zaelyra shouted.

"I don't know!"

"How much?"

"Pretty enough for the last, not enough to start over!"

Zaelyra saw Rhylor move in the shadows. He could have joined the harrow, but two mercenaries separated him from the exit. Kethra motioned for him to step back towards the well.

The scene was recomposed in his mind: it had not led the mercenaries to the relay, but it had helped them to recognize their target. Now, she risked being hit by trying to correct a choice she had made alone.

Zaelyra grabbed a rope and threw it around a hook on the wall. "When I shoot, you pass under the hrow! She shouted at Rhylor.

"You can't hold the winch and the rope!"

"I didn't say I would hold it alone."

Pell and two residents took the rope with her. The metal went up another half meter. Rhylor threshed to the ground and slipped under the harrow, followed by Kethra. Nym's bar immediately folded; the battant fell behind them with a crash that shook the court.

She found him near the well, unarmed with a blade and his left arm injured. Kethra was kneeling next to him. The leader of the mercenaries kept them in the cheek.

"The map," he said. "And the girl."

Zaelyra stopped uncovered. "You already have a map."

"A fake."

"You paid for her."

"I paid for a passage."

"So you bought what we sold you."

The mercenary raised his crossbow. "The box."

Tazri came out behind Zaelyra. She held the box open. Inside, the folded maps seemed to be just worthless pieces of scroll.

"Give it," said the man.

Tazri shook his head.

A guard of Brakka dropped a lantern. The flame rolled to the ground, spreading an amber light. The mercenary turned his eyes to her. Zaelyra advanced.

Kethra threed against his legs.

The crossbow left. The tile hit the stone. Rhylor grabbed the mercenary's arm and pulled him towards him. Zaelyra reached the leader before he could recharge.

She didn't kill him. She hit his wrist, then pushed him towards the harrow. The guards disarmed him.

"You could have killed him," said Rhylor.

"I know."

"Why didn't you do it?"

"Because I wanted the others to see that we could stop him without massacring him."

The leader of the mercenaries tried to get up. Brakka put his boot on his wrist, without pressing hard enough to break it.

"Who hired you? She asked.

"I don't know. We were paid by an intermediary."

"Where should we put the maps back? Zaelyra asked.

The mercenary was silent.

Kethra approached, still trembling. "He won't say anything as long as you treat him like a prisoner."

"And how to treat it?" asked Rhylor.

"Like someone who has already accepted a prize. Make him understand that he can still choose what he sells."

Brakka spread his boot. "Do you want me to pay for it?"

"No. I want him to know that the next intermediary may not keep his word."

He looked around them. The courtyard was emptying. The mercenaries retreated, deprived of the leader and the effect of surprise. The outside door was open, but beyond the canyon, other lanterns lit up.

"They will come back," said Brakka.

"Yes," Zaelyra replied.

She did not try to claim the opposite. "How many people are left?"

"Twenty-three, if no one has hidden."

"And how much can work?"

"Seventeen."

"So we're not leaving yet."

Rhylor tightened the bandage around his arm. "Do you want to take over?"

"I want to give them time to choose their path."

At the other end of the courtyard, Kethra had stood up. She wasn't looking at anyone.

Zaelyra picked up Tazri's box. The maps were intact. On the oldest, a road continued beyond the canyon, to a door drawn in red ink.

The relay was not the end of the trip. It was the first place where they could decide together what to do next.