I woke up slowly. The first time I opened my eyes, I was still alone in the cell. I couldn't tell if my arms still hurt or not. It was hardly a second before my eyes drifted closed again. The next time, the guards were back, but the director was nowhere in sight. I had trouble understanding that one of them was undoing the straps that held me to the chair. I was pulled to my feet and held up by one guard while the other tied my wrists together with a rough rope. This time I stayed awake, though things seemed slow and blurry. They dragged me from the cell and down numerous hallways that I instinctively tried to remember.

The sight of a courtyard ahead cleared my mind. My thoughts came into focus and I reined them in. I didn't have the same control over my body, which stayed limp in the guards' arms. The courtyard was small, bordered by the prison's walls. It wasn't the main courtyard that led out of the prison; this one was private and secluded. A thick wooden pole stood in the centre of the courtyard. About halfway up it, hammered into the wood, was a metal hook. I knew what I was looking at.

The two guards pulled me over to the post. They stopped nearby, each holding an arm as if one of them wouldn't be strong enough to hold me. We were facing a wooden door opposite the one we had walked though. It was closed, but just as we stopped, it swung open. The director walked in first, and I winced when he looked at me. He turned around to greet the men who were following him. Of course, executions often drew crowds. Usually they were held in the market square. I'd been present for quite a few of them but I never watched—it was easy to sneak amongst the distracted shoppers and merchants. My execution seemed like it would be a more private event.

A handful of men walked into the courtyard, one of whom I recognized. Malte arrived, looking exactly as he had four years ago. He didn't even look at me as he went to join the other men. A flicker of blue over by the door caught my attention, and I instantly felt better. Whether he could do anything or not, seeing him filled with me with a sort of relief I couldn't quite make sense of at that moment.

The director didn't bother officially greeting Tannix. Instead, they exchanged a quick nod before approaching the rest of us. They joined the group and the director began to explain what exactly was going on. Tannix was staring at me. I could tell when he noticed the brand, because his eyes widened and his hand, which was resting on his sword pommel, tightened. He glared at the director so hatefully I almost thought he would pull out his sword and cut off the man's head right there. It was nice to imagine.

My two guards started moving, and I was pulled over to the wooden post. One guard lifted my arms so that the rope binding my wrists could be slung over the hook. It left me standing on the tips of my toes, facing the pole. Pain flared through my left shoulder, radiating out from the brand and reminding me harshly that it was there. My right wrist was throbbing again, and in some vain attempt to lessen the pain I tried to adjust so my weight was on my left arm. It wasn't much better. The guards completely cut away my cloak and tunic, leaving no protection between the skin of my back and the whip.

I looked at Tannix, comforted by his presence. I thought about Zianesa, and about Siour and his chariot. I thought about Baisan and the others, waiting for me. Mostly I let my thoughts settle on Tannix, because he was there. His blue eyes met mine, calming me down despite what I knew was about to happen. Part of me, the small part still thinking clearly, didn't want Tannix to have to watch me being beaten to death. The scared part of me needed him there, so I could stare at him and try to block out everything else.

The director unhooked the whip from his belt dramatically as he approached me. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

I looked away from Tannix for a second. "There's nothing else to tell," I said as steadily as I could manage.

"We shall see." He sounded quite confident in himself. I almost wished there was something I knew, something I could tell him so that he wouldn't hurt me. But I knew that even if I had some bit of information, he would always believe that there was more. He flicked the whip at his side, resulting in a loud crack that filled the courtyard. The sound shattered my resolve. I started shaking, and no amount of concentration could stop it.

The courtyard was silent. I could hear the director's footsteps as he backed away from me. He flicked the whip once more for show. I tried to prepare myself for the coming blow, but the first lash still took me by surprise. I managed not to make any sound as the whip slashed my back, though I tensed and jerked against my bound wrists at the pain it caused. The second strike also took me by surprise, as I was trying to recover from the first. I yelped, which faded into whimpering. By the fifth strike, I'd resorted to pleading, to no avail. By the eighth everything was starting to black out again.

A gentle hand on my cheek woke me up. I was lying face down on a stone floor, and for some strange reason I was alive. Before I could try to sit up, the hand moved to rest on my forearm and Tannix's voice broke the silence.

"Don't move."

I listened to him. "How many?" I asked. My back felt like it had been mauled by a wild beast. It hurt enough that I almost forgot about the broken wrist and the brand.

"Fifteen," Tannix replied. "You passed out around the tenth and there was no fun to be had in beating you after that, but he kept at it."

"Did I..." I hesitated, because I'd unconsciously shifted a little and the pain flared up. I grit my teeth and once the pain had faded, finished my question. "Did I say anything about you?" I opened my eyes for the first time so I could watch his reaction.

Tannix shook his head. "No. You begged him to stop for a while. You insisted that you couldn't read a few times, and you mumbled Zianesa's name."

"I thought he was going to kill me." It really hit me then, and a lump formed in my throat.

"He was," Tannix said. "But my name counts for something."

"You stopped him?"

"I got in the way. It worked in the moment, long term I'll... It doesn't matter. I'll handle it. I promised I would get you out of jail."

"I know. I know, I believed you. I..."

"Stop, don't move. I have some salve for your back. I had to bribe my way down here, and you're not supposed to be treated, but if you let me, I'll apply it. It might hurt."

I nodded gratefully and closed my eyes, finding it easier to ignore the pain that way. "Yes, please."

"Try to be quiet," Tannix told me. His hand left my forearm and I heard him unscrewing a lid. I felt the cold touch of his hand on my back and winced, but stayed quiet as he'd instructed. It took him a while to rub the salve gently over my whole back. It numbed my skin and the pain cooled away. Afterwards, he carefully dabbed some onto the brand. By the time I heard him closing the container, I had relaxed considerably.

He picked up my right arm as gently as possible, but it was enough movement to hurt. I opened my eyes to watch. He balanced my arm across his knee, and let his fingers lightly press over my bruised skin. I tried not to flinch. "Sorry," he said quietly. "This is the best I can do." He quickly wrapped it in a clean cloth, then took a ring of leather from the bag slung over his shoulder. He slipped it around my wrist, pulling on the lacing to make sure it was tight. Some sort of bracer, I realized, as my eyes drifted closed again.

My mind wandered a bit. "What is it?"

"What is what?" Tannix asked.

"The brand. I haven't been able to look at it."

Tannix sighed. "It's the letter T, it stands for thief," he told me. After he'd finished with my wrist, he continued. "At this point, I'm fairly certain the director believes that you don't know anything else, but he probably intends to kill you because you know too much. If I give you a key, could you get out?"

"No," I said. "I can't move, let alone climb walls."

He was silent for a moment. "Does anything else hurt?" He was touching my head again, his fingers sliding through my hair. "When they unhooked you from the pole they dropped you, and you hit your head. I can't feel any bumps though."

"No." I opened my eyes again to look up at him. "Don't let him kill me."

"I won't," Tannix promised. "You have some time." He picked up a thin blanket from nearby and rolled it up into a bundle, which he gently placed beneath my head. He took a key from his pocket and pushed it into the centre of my new pillow. "Rest. Tomorrow, when the guard changes at noon, you'll have to try to get out. You're in the main part of the prison now. There's a window just down the hall that you'll be able to fit through. I'll have people waiting on the other side to help you."

"Who?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet. Get some sleep."

The order was pointless, because I was tired enough that I had fallen asleep before he even left my cell.

When the guard walked away, I had to take my chance despite the pain movement caused my back. Once the footsteps faded away, I gingerly got to my feet. The click of the key in the lock sounded loud in the silent corridor. I froze, listening for any sounds of the guard coming back. When none came, I pushed the cell door open and slipped out, grabbing the key as I did so. I didn't want them to know someone had given it to me.

Following Tannix's directions, I walked down the hallway towards a square of daylight. Subconsciously, I was moving the fingers of my right hand, testing their mobility. The bracer he had put on my wrist the day before had worked wonders. I could move my fingers with hardly any pain, and as long as I didn't try to rotate my wrist, it felt fine. I wasn't sure how it would hold up to climbing. My back stung furiously. Every movement tugged against and ripped the scabs that had formed overnight, but I did my best to ignore it. It wasn't so bad that I couldn't walk, as long as I was careful.

The window was higher on the wall than I'd hoped. It would have been no problem if I was uninjured, or even if I'd been taller. I looked up at it thoughtfully. The bars were wide enough apart that I could probably squeeze through them, if I could only get up. Cautiously, I reached up with my right hand and grabbed at a stone. The feelings that shot down my arm convinced me that I couldn't make the climb. I glanced around for something to step on, maybe a stool or bench.

A clinking sound echoed down the hall, like parts of armour clicking together. I started running without thinking it through, away from the sound that was almost certainly a guard. I didn't want to duck into another cell and trap myself, so I turned into a dark doorway that led to a set of steep, curved stairs. There was no light in the staircase, but I could see the flickering of a torch around the corner. I slowed as I crept down them, hoping both that the guard hadn't noticed me and that there would be no one in the room below me.

The room was large and damp, with only one torch sitting in a bracket near the stairs. The flickering light didn't quite reach the corners of the room, but I could see a little. It was part of the water system that ran underneath the city. At the sight of it, my stomach jumped. Water made me uneasy, although it was a tiny stream and the fear quickly disappeared. I scooped some water into my hands, and took a drink. It tasted a little odd and was cold—clearly from one of the underground streams. I drank some more and splashed a handful of water onto my brand before I heard cries coming from above me. They knew I was out of my cell.

There was only one doorway into the room. The only other ways out were the tunnels on either side of the stream. It was gushing out of a hole to my right, which was far too small for me, but it ran through a larger tunnel to my left. The grate was too narrow for me to crawl through, but without any other options I had to try something.

I stepped into the knee-high stream, and hurried to inspect the grate. The lower half looked rusted. Without a second thought I kicked it, and my foot broke through as if Zianesa herself was helping me. I kicked it again to widen the hole, but then I was out of time. Taking a deep breath, I ducked under the water to drag myself through the hole.

It was a tight fit. I took my time easing my shoulders through, but I was less cautious with my hips. I gasped for air as soon as I was through, and moved further back into the tunnel. There were voices in the room, barely audible over the water and my own frantically beating heart. There wasn't much room in the tunnel, just enough for my head to clear the water. I tried to focus on the way the cool water was soothing my back and brand. With that positive thought as something to focus on, to dispel my uneasiness, I started moving down the tunnel. I couldn't see any light ahead, but it was the only way to go.

It didn't take long for me to reach a slight bend in the tunnel, and when I turned, I was looking at almost complete darkness. Some light bounced off the damp walls, but not much. I kept moving. Darkness didn't bother me, it never had, but my mind started to wander. I imagined walking down under the city and falling into a huge freezing lake. I imagined the tunnel getting smaller and smaller until I could no longer keep going. I thought of the stream suddenly swelling and filling the tunnel completely. 

I had to stop, with a hand on each of the damp walls, and force myself to think of something else. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts and focus them on the warm city I was trying to get to and the people there. Mostly I thought of Tannix, or Baisan, Kassia, and the other thieves. I wondered if they knew I had been arrested or if they thought I'd just left them. As more time passed, I found my thoughts drifting to my mother. I hadn't thought of her much these past few years, and it came as a bit of a shock when I realized what I was remembering.

The distraction did its job well, and while remembering one of the happier times with my mother, I saw a prick of light in the distance. By then I was shivering from the cold of the stream, and I longed to get out and into the sun. The light got bigger and bigger until finally, I found myself at the end of the tunnel. It was covered by a grate, but it was in worse condition than the other one had been. A single kick managed to break it loose and I pushed the whole thing off. The stream poured out of the tunnel and into a hole in the ground, where it disappeared from sight. I hopped down, landing lightly on my feet. Though I couldn't immediately place the alleyway I found myself in, I knew it was the lower city. I had made it home.