When the tunnel finally opened into the outskirts beneath the crumbling district walls, the cold night air washed over them like a long-forgotten mercy. The innkeeper crawled out first, his frail body trembling as he pushed aside the moss-covered grate that sealed the passage. He glanced around, squinting into the darkness to make sure no one was nearby before signaling for the others to follow.
One by one, they emerged from the filth and gloom of the sewers...Nyx and Selene first, their hair and clothes soaked and reeking; then Theron, who helped the weakened loyalists out of the narrow hole; and finally the Empress, who stepped out last, still carrying Lucas on her shoulder.
"Your Majesty, this way," the innkeeper whispered, glancing nervously toward the flickering torches in the distance. "We'll go through the old alley behind that building....It's quieter there." He pointed towards the direction.
