Vicer’s gaze turned distant. “According to numerous sources, there’s a tunnel leading into the castle, and the entrance is somewhere in the dungeon. If we can find the entrance and the tunnel is still clear, we can use it.”
My mouth dropped open. “A tunnel? Why would Sabium leave such a vulnerability?”
“One of his ancestors built it a couple of centuries ago, and it hasn’t been used since. Sabium prefers to have his corrupt marched through the city on their way to their deaths. Likely the only reason the tunnel still exists is because the king keeps his prisoners so weak and docile, even if there were a prison break, there’s no way they would be able to make it to the end of that tunnel before the guards caught them—not unless they were being carried.” Distaste flashed across Vicer’s face. “If you can get into the dungeon, your job will be to find the tunnel and figure out where it ends.”
The tiniest spark of hope ignited in my chest. We could do this.
“I don’t need to remind you to be careful with your words,” Vicer said.
“We will.”
“All messages should be in code. And burned immediately. Make sure you’re not followed back here—”
“Vicer,” Tibris said. “We know. We’d never do anything to risk you or the others. You know that.”
Vicer looked back at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.
“Ameri is waiting to take you to the narminoi. Tomorrow, we’ll make sure you’re disguised appropriately, check your papers, and you’ll be in.”
I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Vicer.”
“Thank me when you get out of there. Alive.”
I nodded, walking out and giving Tibris a couple of minutes with his friend.
Ameri leaned against the wall. “I spoke to my contact. We need to go now.”
Tibris stepped through the door. Obviously, he hadn’t known what to say to Vicer. “I’m coming with you.”
We followed Ameri down the stairs. She was a quiet woman, and I’d only been with the rebels for an afternoon, but already I’d noticed her slipping in and out of rooms unnoticed. She just seemed to fade into the background.
“What magic do you have?” I asked when we opened the front door.
She shot me a look. “Guess.”
“Something to do with the way you never seem to be where we’re expecting you to be?” Tibris asked dryly, and she smirked.
“Maybe. Our contact is a few streets over. But just so you know, narminoi have a tendency to stay in the past. They sometimes forget to live in the present. Even before the king ordered them to be wiped out, they wrestled with insanity. She may not be able to respond to your questions.”
“Margie warned me. She said she had to put things together after she’d talked to the narminoi multiple times.”
There was a high chance this visit would be a waste of time. Still…if I could get even one scrap of helpful information, it would be worth it.
By the time we’d traveled deeper into the slums, I was breathing through my mouth. Beggars huddled on every corner, although most of the people walking past them looked too poor to spare even a single copper themselves. Children ran barefoot on the cold ground, and each person we passed carried with them an air of hopelessness.
All the magic in this city, and yet the poorest citizens would likely have had better lives in the villages.
Ameri turned into a small potions shop. I glanced at the labels on some of the bottles, and my stomach roiled. Even the most powerful people in our villages could never hope to have enough magic left over to create potions. The merchants who came to our village brought with them brightly colored water and fake charms.
But here, the people had so much magic, they were selling potions to grow back thinning hair, to find a lost heirloom, to increase luck.
“Are these real?” I croaked.
“Of course they’re real,” a high-pitched voice said, and I turned to find a short woman with her hands on her hips. The blue mark on her temple would have made it clear she had her magic back, even if I hadn’t seen the lines next to her eyes.
“Ignore her,” Ameri told the woman, shooting me an exasperated look. “We’re here for Lanos.”
“Out the back.” The woman gave me another dark look before turning and stalking away.
Ameri led us to blue door, which opened into a room filled with wooden crates. A weathered man sat on one of those crates. He wore a filthy, ripped cloak and scuffed boots, and he launched to his feet when we walked in. I clamped my hand around the hilt of my knife, and he went still.