The torch sparks bounced against the damp stone. The underground passage stank of rotting earth and confinement.
Elector placed his hand on Lilith's back. A brief push. Urgent. He urged her to advance into the darkness of the tunnel.
They reached a rusty iron staircase. Elector pushed a wooden board above their heads. Dust fell on them in a thick cloud.
They emerged to the surface. The barracks meeting room was dark.
Lilith stood in the center of the hall. She began to shake out her skirt. Stains of green mold and black mud clung to the fabric. She ran her nails over the cloth forcefully.
"You can tell nothing ever happens here," said Lilith, looking at her dirty fingers. "Have you never used that passageway?"
Elector crushed the torch against the floor slabs. The flames hissed until they died.
"No," his breathing was labored. "And I hope I never use it again."
He threw the burned stick into a corner. He strode toward a side wall. There was an enormous map of the capital and its surroundings.
"Now we're going to split up," Elector jabbed his index finger at the center of the parchment. "I'll go to the church, here. You'll go to this camp in the hills, north of the city. If the king is still here, he must be there."
Lilith stopped cleaning her dress. She let her hands fall to her sides. She stared at him. Silence filled the room.
"You're rushing too much," she said. She took a step forward. "You don't even know what I'm looking for."
Elector swallowed.
"And you want to send me to a camp," Lilith curved her lips into a smile. "Is it a trap, perhaps?"
Elector stepped back. His boot hit the leg of a table.
"Of course not. But I have to rule out places."
Lilith's smile disappeared. A grimace of disgust twisted her mouth.
"And why didn't you check it yourself first? I'm not going to waste my time running errands for you. Remember that I only came because you said I wouldn't need to bring down that building."
She crossed her arms. She looked away toward the wooden door.
"So tell me where we're going. Because I'm not separating from you."
Elector ran out of air. His chest sank.
"We can't both go anywhere," his voice came out raspy. "If a bishop sees me with you, it's all over for me."
Lilith turned her face slowly. Her red eyes swept him from top to bottom.
"I knew you wouldn't be up to it."
She turned around. She walked toward the exit.
Elector reacted. He ran after her. He placed himself between Lilith and the door, extending his arms.
"Wait!" Sweat beaded on his forehead. "All right. You'll come with me. But..."
He let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders hunched. He looked at Lilith's torn, mold-covered dress.
"We need to stop at my house first. To fix you up."
Lilith looked down at her own clothes. Her fingers caught a fold of the fabric. She squeezed it hard, wrinkling it. She looked at him again. Slowly. Expressionless.
"You're really worried about how you're seen, aren't you?" Her fangs barely showed as she pronounced the words. "I don't have that much patience."
She opened her mouth to add something else. She closed it abruptly. She pressed her lips into a thin, tense line.
Elector relaxed his shoulders. He nodded, stepping away from the door. He removed the thick iron bolts one by one. The metal creaked in the gloom.
They went out into the streets.
The early morning was freezing. Elector guided her through the city. He used no more passageways. They walked on the cobblestones of the street.
The military man was rigid. He walked hunched, like a criminal. He stopped at every corner, stuck his head out, and held his breath before advancing. He pressed against the walls, seeking the refuge of the densest shadows. His heart beat so hard that Lilith could hear it.
She walked behind him, her back straight. Without bothering to hide the noise of her shoes.
The man's attitude generated a dull irritation in her. It reminded her of the absurd game of balancing plates in the garden of Profot's house. It reminded her of empty conversations and cups of tea.
Lilith blinked. She suspended her thoughts. She shut off her mind, letting the walk become a blur of gray walls and dead streetlamps. Only the sound of Elector's trembling boots marked the rhythm.
The blink ended. They stopped.
In front of them rose a large dark wooden door, reinforced with black iron rivets. Elector's house.