But first I have to get out of here?

Cautiously Lalo poked his head over the rim of the cart. There was a whiff ofsmoke in the air, and above the wall he could see torches winking like glowwormsin the upper windows of the Palace, but he saw no glare of fire-perhaps they hadput it out in time. The cart in which he was sitting was parked just outside theZoo Gardens, a few feet from the Processional Gate.

Sighing with relief, Lalo clambered over the side and began to strip off hissmock and brush away the worst of the filth that coated him-

-And stopped, feeling a gaze that was not the dispassionate stare of the mangylions beyond the barrier. He turned then, and looked across the square to thePalace Gate from which a familiar grey-robed figure had just emerged. For amoment fear froze him again, but he was still glowing with the inebriation ofpower. He let his smock fall to the ground.

Zanderei's robe was of rich silk, while his own worn shirt and stained breecheswould attract no attention. If he could entice the Rankan into the town, Lalowould be on his own ground, and the City itself might rid him and the Prince oftheir enemy.

Grinning nervously, Lalo walked into plain view, and then urged his stiff limbsinto an awkward dash through the Gate as Zanderei and half a dozen Hell-Houndsleaped into motion across the Square after him.

Looking back over his shoulder at every other step, Lalo pressed his crampedlimbs to greater speed along the Processional Way. Hearing the guards closebehind him, he dodged among the merchants' houses to Westgate Street and downTanner's Row, heading for the Serpentine. And as he ran, the blood began tocourse freely through his limbs once more, and he shed middle-age andawkwardness as he had shed his ruined smock, and his fear.

Lalo leaped over a handcart that had been abandoned in the road and paused tosend it spinning broadsides. That would not long delay them, but he could hearmercenaries laying bets on a dogfight in the next street. Laughing like the boywho had raced through these streets so long ago, he let his pursuers follow himaround the corner, slid eel-like through the crowd, and laughed again as thetinny clash of weapons told him that the Hell-Hounds and the mercenaries hadmet.

But what about Zanderei? Lalo waited in the shadow of a quiet doorway andwatched the gap at the entrance to the street. Night had fallen, and the moon,now almost at the full, was drawing free of the distorting smoke of the City andtransforming the shape and shadows of the street with its own deceptivedappling. How could he tell which one-

Ah, there, a shadow moved of itself, and Lalo knew that his enemy was here.

So soon! Shock tingled through his veins and set every hair on end. I must run ... the man moves too subtly-before those who would attack him for the silk hewears can note him, he is away. I am a dead man if I cannot trap him somehow.The glory he had tasted seemed now as inconstant as the moon. In a momentZanderei would reach his hiding place.

And yet it was almost as if he had done all this before-he remembered a time inhis boyhood, when he had come with his mates into the Maze in search ofexcitement and been set upon there. He had escaped by-he looked up and saw thatthis house too had an external stair. Without allowing himself time to think offailure, Lalo launched himself upward.

The wooden structure swayed alarmingly. Lalo clutched at a railing and nearlyfell when it gave way beneath his hand. He could hear loud voices inside-awindow opened and then slammed shut as he was seen, and for a moment thequarreling was stilled. Then he was on the roof, leaping over trays of dryingfruit and ducking under clotheslines. He saw the dark shape behind him andjerked one end of the line free so that the hanging clothes clung damply to theman who was following him.

Something flashed by his cheek in the moonlight like a line of white fire. Lalothrew himself across the gap between two buildings, clutched at the ledge of aparapet and lay across it, gasping, staring at the quivering blade that matchedthe one he had seen in the throat of the slain guard. He hauled himself the restof the way into the dubious protection of the gable end.

Two Hell-Hounds trotted down the street below, paused momentarily at the cornerand gave a whistle which was answered from two streets away. Lalo wondered whathad happened to the mercenaries. Then a shadow rose from the opposite rooftop,glimmering like silver as it came into the full light of the moon.

"Limner!" Zanderei called, "The soldiers will kill you if they catch you beforeI do-give yourself up to me now!"

Lalo thought of the blade which he had wedged uncomfortably into his sash andgritted his teeth. They call us Wrigglies, he remembered, Well, I had better dosome quick wriggling now? Cautiously he squirmed across the tiles. A quiverbeneath him told him that Zanderei had also crossed the gap, and he scrambledfor the opposite stair.

But there was none. Unable to stop, Lalo leaped to the balcony in a crash of

breaking crockery, and swung himself from the railing to the street below. Theupper way would not save him, but as he had lain gasping he had remembered analternative, darker and more dangerous both to the pursuer and the pursued.

Shards of terra cotta smashed and rattled in the street behind him as the ownerof the balcony glimpsed Zanderei and pelted him with his broken wares. Lalo speddown the street and past a group wavering along from the direction of the VulgarUnicorn.

I wanted to be a hero-he thought, forcing his legs to more speed, but how do youtell the difference between a dead hero and a dead fool? The singing behind himfaltered and someone screamed. Zanderei-for a moment Lalo saw the assassinclearly in the moonlight-he had shed his grey silk and his shirt was torn-helooked as if he had been bred to the streets of Sanctuary. And as if he had feltLalo's gaze, he turned, and his teeth flashed in a brief smile.

Lalo took a deep breath and stared around him-he dared not move too quickly nowlest he miss the spot, though every sense was clamoring to him to flee. There,at the end of the alley-a wooden cover that capped a circle of crumbling stones.Lalo pulled it free-the covers were usually left unbolted in hopes that peoplewould throw refuse directly in-then, gritting his teeth, he lowered himself downthe shaft.

It was not so deep as a well. Lalo landed with a splash in a sluggish streamslippery with things he would rather not try to name. Fighting his stomach, herealized that the Prince's garbage had been fragrant compared to the sewerswhich were his last hope against his enemy.

He slogged grimly forward, counting his steps and putting out a reluctant handto the slimy walls to guide his passage, listening behind him for the smallsounds that would tell him that Zanderei had followed him even here. Catchinghis breath, he felt for the knife, but in all his scrambling it had been lost.

Just as well-he told himself, I would not have known how to use it anyway/

"You-Limner, you've done well, but what made you think you could win this gameagainst me?" The voice echoed dankly from water-scoured stone walls. "I'll catchup with you soon-wouldn't you have preferred to have died cleanly?"

Lalo shook his head, though the other man could not see. He had reckoned hisachievements and found them wanting, but if he died now at least he had tried toact like a man. He forced his way onward, fingers questing for the next break inthe stone. What if he was wrong? Had he misremembered, or had the tunnelschanged in thirty years?