The gallery of splinters

The road that opened behind the Veilleurs basin was not a gallery, but a succession of ducts cut from different times. Some walls were smooth; others still carried the traces of tools too small for Brakka's shoulders.

Ressa had entrusted them with two guardians. One knew the first branches; the other had never surpassed the second. They were ordered to lead them to an old shelter, then return to the pool with their report.

"We won't go beyond that? Zaelyra asked.

"Not without a guide to the next stop," replied the caretaker, the one called Eri.

Veli was no longer with them. He had returned the plate and remained at the basin. Zaelyra had not had the opportunity to ask him if he hoped to return to his sister's shelter. She did not know if this absence was a choice or an obligation.

The path narrows under a row of stone spikes. One of them was broken at ground level. The break was fresh; splinters still rested on the dust.

"Someone came by recently," said the guard.

"Someone or something," Nym corrected.

They checked the ceiling before moving forward. No movement. The tips could have given way under the effect of humidity. Zaelyra drew the break and the risk of falling, but Eri asked her not to mark the exact location.

"If someone follows the map, they must look at the ceiling instead of running to the indicated point."

Zaelyra replaced the small sign with a general warning.

At the next elbow, they found a piece of rope tied to a piton. The knot was simple, but the end had been cut clean. Nym looked at the fiber. "This rope was cut with a blade, not broken by weight."

Rhylor examined the wall. Friction marks descended to the ground, where a charge would have been dragged.

"The five missing?" asked the guard.

Eri didn't answer. She first observed the gallery, then the piton. "There are a lot of people who travel. We don't know who came here."

Zaelyra noted this wording. Ressa's team had the right to look for the five, but not to make each trace a confirmation.

They reached the shelter before the end of the cycle. It was an alcove between two conduits, wide enough for six people. The water fell from the ceiling into a stone trough. The trough was clean, but a cup had been left near the wall.

It was split in two.

Kethra bent down to watch the break. "It broke while falling."

"Or someone hit him," said the guard.

"The brand starts from the inside. She showed the chipped glaze. "He was placed on the edge."

"Do you know how to read the cups now?" asked the merchant.

"I can read the items I sold. This one comes from a batch of low forges."

"Did you sell any? Zaelyra asked.

"Yes."

"To Saira?"

Kethra shook her head. "I don't know."

Eri retrieved the cup with leather gloves and put it in a separate pocket. She didn't let anyone keep him. The object would be brought back to the basin for comparison with the effects of the five travelers.

Nym took a measurement of the water. It was cold and slightly salty. The air current crossed the shelter from north to south, which could indicate an open duct further away.

"Can we go with the flow?" asked the guard.

"Until the next security point," says Eri. "Not after."

They consulted the shared map. The route showed a bend to the west, then an area without a survey. Orven had not been beyond this section. The map had been copied several times and the most recent line came from a merchant, with no specific date.

"We could go and see," said the merchant. "Just the elbow."

Eri shook his head. "We've reached our limit."

"But what if the travelers are there?"

"Then we need another guide."

Zaelyra understood his impatience. They had found three traces that could lead to the missing and stopped before they knew. But the presence of signs was not an authorization.

She had the last place observed drawn and organized the return. Going up, they heard a crumple behind a wall. The guards raised their lamps. Rhylor took the lead, but did not draw his gun.

"Is there anyone?" called Zaelyra.

A breath answered. Then a voice: "Water."

Eri signaled not to move forward. She asked who was talking, how many they were and if they could walk.

"Only one. I can walk."

"Your name?"

The silence lasted too long.

"Jorren."

"Do you have a gun?"

"No."

Eri made a sign to the guards, who moved away without lowering their lamps. A figure appeared between two stones, a thin human covered in red dust. He held an empty gourd and a hand pressed against his side.

"You are one of the five?" asked Eri.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Do you come from the basin?"

"No."

Kethra noticed the piece of canvas tied to her arm. The fabric had the same broker's sign as the fake plate, but the pattern had been half scratched.

"Who gave you that? Zaelyra asked.

The man stepped back. "Nobody."

"You're hurt. We can take you back to the pool."

"I'm not going back there."

"Why?"

"They will take the canvas."

Eri held out his hand, palm open. "If you were forced, you can say it without giving a name."

The man looked at the guards, then Kethra. "A caravan was hijacked. They said the road was open. We followed the marks, then we had to pay for each door. When some refused, they left them behind."

"How much?" asked Rhylor.

"I don't know. Five, maybe."

"Did you see them?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Hier."

Zaelyra exchanged a look with Eri. It was the first recent trace that linked the fake plates to a missing group, but the man could be wrong about the number.

Eri offered him to come back with them, without touching the canvas before having it examined by Ressa. The man hesitated.

"I can't go back to the pool."

"You won't be locked up there," says Zaelyra. "But they will ask you questions. You can also refuse."

"What if I refuse?"

"We will leave you here with water and a map to the shelter."

The man looked down at his empty gourd. "I'm coming. But the canvas remains mine."

"Okay," says Eri. "We won't take it without your consent."

His name was Jorren, a dealer of tool parts. He had traveled with a group of six; two had been separated in a passage, the others had been captured by those who had sold them the false itinerary. He didn't know where they were taken.

They helped him walk to the pool, stopping at every change of air. No one asked him the name of the merchant or tried to touch the canvas. Eri had already asked a healer to prepare a place away from other travelers.

Before crossing the threshold, Jorren stopped. "If you say I gave the sign, they will find me."

"Who is that? Zaelyra asked.

"The ones who wear the mark."

"We can keep your name out of the copy," she replied. "But I can't promise that no one will recognize you."

Jorren looked at her, then nodded. He entered by himself.