20 #2

The fire spread through the rows along channels of oil. The surface looked intact. Beneath it, every bale had a red heart. Luzmer was burning slowly because the commission wanted a manageable column of smoke, time to remove valuable goods, and complete destruction at the end.

The seven prisoners were in a sorting cage.

A woman was striking the bars with a shoe. Her white hair was cut at her jaw, and she had a fresh burn on her neck.

“Stand back,” Tarin said.

He wedged the ax into the lock. The metal was reinforced with blue stone.

Isolde recognized Lenda Aris by the way she held the shoe.

The palace laundress had chased Aelyn down a corridor with that same gesture after a sheet ended up in a fountain.

“Lenda.”

The woman brought her face close to the bars.

“Who are you?”

“Someone who found your chest.”

“My daughter?”

“Alive. She recovered it in Caleryon.”

Lenda closed her eyes for a heartbeat.

“The accounts are upstairs. Third floor, canal office. They wanted us to copy them before they burned them.”

“First we get you out.”

“The lock feeds on heat.”

Isolde examined the base. The blue stone sat inside a ring. Tarin pointed to the bolts holding the cage to the floor.

“We can lift the frame.”

The people inside took hold of two bars. Isolde heated the stone around the bolts, away from the blue metal. Tarin struck one. Lenda organized the push from inside.

“On three,” she said. “One. Two. Three.”

The first bolt came out.

They repeated it with the others. They tilted the cage until a gap opened between the bars and the floor. The prisoners slipped through one by one.

One man had a broken ankle. Two women were struggling to breathe. Lenda could walk.

Tarin led them to the lift.

“Go down to the basement, through the gate, and follow the rope to the boat.”

“There are twelve upstairs,” Lenda said. “Four are chained to the copying tables.”

“You’re leaving,” Isolde ordered.

The laundress studied her. The smoke changed her face, and Isolde’s voice had gained years. Some features remained.

“Aelyn spoke just like that when she wanted me to obey,” Lenda said.

“Aelyn learned from you.”

“That explains her worst faults.”

She stepped onto the platform with the wounded.

Isolde took a wet blanket and continued toward the stairs.

* * *

Kaoran reached pier seven with an oar and two firefighters.

The floating ladder was tied to a Guard launch. Six soldiers stood watch. Sura’s brigade waited behind a glass warehouse.

“Fire on the south walkway!” one of the firefighters shouted.

Two guards looked over. Sura struck a bell with a hammer. The city heard the alarm for the first time.

Neighbors came out with buckets. The Guard tried to block their path. Kaoran moved along the edge of the pier and cut the launch’s rope.

A soldier saw him.

“Stop!”

Kaoran pushed the ladder into the water. The man attacked with a spear. The oar caught its point. The wood split near the blade, leaving a staff of reasonable length.

“Constant improvement,” Kaoran said.

He struck the soldier’s knee.

The firefighters took the launch. Two more guards advanced. Sura emptied a box of sand over the planks. Boots lost their footing. The neighbors arrived with buckets and filled the pier.

“The ladder belongs to the city!” Sura shouted. “There are people inside L-4.”

“The commission has ordered external containment,” the officer replied.

“Then contain that building from the water.”

She handed him a bucket.

The man dropped it. A woman from the market bent to pick it up.

She filled the bucket at the cistern and passed it to the neighbor waiting. The officer had to step aside so they could continue.

Kaoran boarded the launch. Two firefighters rowed toward L-4. The guards held their fire on a boat surrounded by neighbors.

Sura took the upper walkway. She threw ropes from the adjoining warehouse. Kaoran extended the ladder to the fourth floor.

A window was boarded up.

He struck it with his new staff.

“Luzmer brigade! Get back from the wall!”

A voice answered from inside.

“There are six of us here!”

Kaoran broke the board. Smoke poured over him. He climbed.

* * *

Isolde reached the second floor.

Three commission guards were coming down with boxes of documents. They wore masks and damp cloaks. The first mistook her for a worker.

“The lower exit is closed,” he said. “Go to the roof.”

“There are prisoners upstairs.”

“Authorized staff have evacuated.”

“I found seven people inside a cage.”

The man gripped his sword hilt.

“Who let you in?”

Isolde saw the seal on the boxes. C-7 records, routes, and payments. The commission was taking out some of the accounts. The fire would destroy the rest.

“Tarin Ose,” she replied.

“He’s under arrest.”

The lie came too soon. Tarin was still below.

Isolde flung the blanket over the guard’s face. She pulled the first box away and shoved it toward the stairs. The second man drew a club. She deflected the blow with her forearm and struck his stomach.

The third carried a blue stone.

He activated it.

Cold struck her core. The flames hidden inside the wool grew. The instrument absorbed fire and sent it back toward the fuses.

Isolde hurled a box at his hand. The seal broke. Sheets scattered across the floor.

“The accounts!” the first guard shouted.

He tried to gather them.

The ceiling creaked.

Isolde picked up the blue stone with the wet blanket and put it in a barrel of brine. The pulse stopped. The three men stood between her and a burning staircase.

“The way out is through the basement,” she said. “Go down and decide whether you want to keep the boxes.”

The man with the club looked at the smoke. He dropped his weapon and took a box. The first gathered up sheets. The third remained beside the barrel.

“Varek will pay for those records.”

“The brigade can pay you in air.”

A beam fell behind them.

The man chose the stairs.

Isolde gathered the pages she could reach. She found a list of nineteen names, a payment ledger, and a sealed order:

THERMAL LOSS AUTHORIZED FOLLOWING EXPOSURE OF C-7.

The signature came from Varek’s office. The regency’s seal authorized the order to be carried out.

She tucked the pages beneath her apron.

The third floor was divided into offices. Four people were still chained to tables. Two others were pounding on a boarded-up window. Kaoran descended the floating ladder from the fourth floor and appeared on the other side. He had left six detainees up there following Sura’s instructions.

“You found a staff,” Isolde said.

“It was an oar with ambition.”

He broke the last board. Sura secured the ladder from the adjoining building.

“These two can go down,” Kaoran said, pointing to the people who had been knocking on the window.

“Four are still chained here. Have you checked the roof office?”

“It’s locked. I’ll open the locks at the tables. You look upstairs.”

“We go together.”

“Every minute adds fire.”

Isolde saw the smoke around Kaoran. The plan required them to split up again. He knew locks and could evacuate people toward the ladder.

“Three knocks if the way out changes,” she said.

“Two if I need help.”

“One if—”

“Try not to invent signals while the floor burns.”

Isolde went up.

The fourth floor held sleeping quarters and a raised office. Three of the six prisoners had already crossed to the ladder. The other three remained beside the window Kaoran had opened. A woman supported an unconscious man.

“Anyone left?” Isolde asked.

“The accountant and two watchmen in the office,” the woman replied. “We heard them banging on the door.”

“Cross over.”

“The ladder’s moving.”

“Sura’s holding it.”

The woman looked at the firefighter’s badge on the other side and moved forward.

Isolde reached the office. A bar secured the door from outside.

Someone had locked in the people who knew the accounts.

She removed it.

Inside she found an old man and two young men wearing watch bands. All three were bound. The old man had ink on his hands.

“Who did this?” Isolde asked.

“The warehouse director,” one of the young men said. “He locked us in this morning, after counting the prisoners. He ordered the fuses lit and everyone out with the Guard. We asked to check the floors.”

“Why tie you up?”

“We signed for our shifts. We could prove there were prisoners.”

Isolde cut the ropes.

The accountant pulled a small book from beneath his shirt.

“I kept the real numbers. A hundred and nine people passed through L-4. Forty-seven left for West-9. Thirty-one for Caleryon. Nineteen were still here. The rest died, escaped, or disappeared between lists.”

“Name?”

“Eren Sol.”

“Take the book to Sura.”

“And you?”

Two knocks sounded below.

Kaoran needed help.

“I’m going down.”

The inner staircase was wrapped in fire.

Isolde looked at the outer walkway. She could descend to the third floor on the floating ladder and enter through the window. Eren and the watchmen crossed first.

Isolde stepped onto the first rung.

The third floor exploded.

One of the hidden fuses reached an oil reservoir. Smoke and fragments of wood burst from the windows. The floating ladder came away from the wall.

Sura held the rope. Eren fell onto the walkway. Isolde caught hold with her right hand. Her left fingers slipped.

Below, Kaoran was still inside.

“Kaoran!”

No answer.

Isolde climbed down the rope to the broken window. The heat scorched her boots. She went in.

The four people who had been chained had reached the exit. Two were crawling toward the ladder. Tarin had come up from the lift and was guiding the others.

“The old man’s by the office!” he shouted.

Isolde crossed through the smoke.

A beam had fallen on Kaoran. It pinned his left shoulder and part of his chest. His broken staff lay to one side. A freed woman was trying to lift the timber.

“Push when I say,” Isolde ordered.

Kaoran opened his eyes.

“Two knocks,” he said with difficulty.

“I heard them.”

“It worked better as an oar.”

“Save your breath.”

The beam was burning inside. Isolde could consume it with fire and cover Kaoran in embers. Lifting it would take several people.

Tarin arrived with a hook. Two more prisoners returned from the window.