Chương 168: 82. I Have Made My Choice

I follow as closely behind Fargo's little partner as I can, but the combination of running around and relative quiet has not done me any favors. I'm exhausted from using so many of my strongest skills, bruised from our guide's rough handling, and still getting sharp twinges of pain in my chest from the bullet lodged there. Actually, that last part might be all that's keeping me awake. If we live through this, we're going to need to work on our stamina, I think.

Just to keep my mind focused on something, I glance back at the serpentfolk slithering nervously after us.

"You said this leads to Gaa territory?"

"Er, yes," they confirm.

"Technically. But they haven't connected their district to the sewers, so as I said, there are no access points." Wasteful. Imagine living in your own waste rather than using sewers just because they were built by a lower caste. Maybe the nobles have better reasons, but I doubt it. If not for the bullet in my chest, I'd have half a mind to turn around and join the rebels—but no. They're just patsies anyway.

"It's still a sewer," I note.

"It drains somewhere."

"There are outlets, yes, but they lead straight to the river."

"Isn't that where we're going?" They grimace, pulling back their lips to reveal a mouthful of long fangs and flicking their forked tongue.

"There's quite a difference between a mere riverbank and an actual dock."

"Gaa has private harbors?"

"Yes, but the outlets are nowhere near them, and perhaps more importantly—neither is your captain." Taaka had to get down here somehow. Wherever she's leading us, I'll just have to hope it works out.

"You should go," I tell the snake person.

"Taaka can lead us back."

"And if the rodent leads you astray?" She shoots them a dirty look and chitters indignantly. Much smarter than she looks, that one.

"We'll manage," I grunt, my voice growing more strained. Talking hurts.

"No need to let your people implicate themselves more than they already have."

"Hm, I see," they respond quietly.

"Thank you for your consideration, friend of the People." They do not, I note, stop following.

"Look, uh..." What was their name, again?

"Msshi," Allie supplies.

"Msshi," I repeat, "you don't have to put yourself in danger for us. Half the nobles hate us, and half the church—probably a secret cult too. We'll be lucky if we leave the city alive." So will anybody caught helping us. Again I'm brought up short by my poor language skills.

I should be proud that I'm even this conversational after only a couple of months of immersion, and my conversations with Anna have helped a lot, but even Allie isn't fully fluent and it gets more frustrating every time I fail to articulate myself. Oh, I'm never going to talk to Anna again, am I? I shake my head—not the time to worry about that.

"You are correct, Miss Maev," Msshi replies cheerfully.

"Yet am I not possessed of a class and a name? Am I not one of the People? It is the blessing of the Goddess that we may each choose our own path. I thank you for offering me another, but I have made my choice." Huh. I'm sure that'll be interesting to unpack later, but I guess they're right. It's their choice to make, not mine.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

"I told you already, the People—" I shake my head.

"No—why you," I stress. How likely is it that the first serpentfolk we ran into on our escape from the tribunal just happened to be one that knew secret paths through the city, the exact elder to bring us to, and how to navigate the labyrinthine smuggling routes through the unused sewers? No matter how tightly knit their community is, Msshi is shockingly willing to drop everything to help us. Unless that was their intention from the start.

"Oho, Sszlaw said you were clever," they chuckle.

"The People stay away from bad business—""Apart from smuggling."

"But we can still taste it on the air," they continue, ignoring my quip.

"The elders sent a few of us out to help anyone in trouble—not just you." Canny of them. Maybe a little two-faced, if they're involved in both smuggling arms to the rebels and then helping to maintain order in the ensuing riots. I suppose they've got their own politics to deal with, as minorities. Probably more.

"A warning would have been nice," I complain, rubbing vainly at my aching chest. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"We'd get blamed," they hiss.

"We always do, and may yet be." Maybe not, this time. I'm fully expecting the blame to land on our shoulders for this. We did murder the High Inquisitor, for all that she had it coming. Following the cat-ferret, we emerge onto a very steep riverbank, and I have to shield my eyes in order to adjust to the sudden brightness of the sun after being underground for a while. Taaka scampers up onto our shoulder and chirps in my ear.

"Now what?" I wonder, searching for any sign of Fargo or Jira. There's nobody in our immediate vicinity, and none of the ships on the river look like Jira's. The bank is too steep to climb, which only leaves the tiny outcropping built into the hill where the sewer lets out into the river, on which we are standing. To the side, there's a strange-looking ladder—a metal pole with an outer spiral making up the rungs.

"Do we go up?" I ask nobody in particular, but Taaka chirps affirmatively in response. I shrug and start climbing, doing my best to ignore how my entire arm twitches and spasms as I go. Behind me, Msshi slithers up along the spiral. Oh, that's why it's shaped like that. We emerge onto the street, where we're met by a line of militia pointing rifles our way. I tighten my grip on the rock.

"Taaka, I'm starting to lose faith," I deadpan.

"Stand down!" a familiar voice shouts. Tara pushes her way forward as the gunmen lower their weapons, rushing over to us.

"Maev! There you are! Are you okay?!" she asks, gently patting us down as if to look for any injuries. From anybody else, I'd be put off by all the touching, but it's heartening to know that we still have friends. I wasn't certain after all that's happened today.

"No," I answer honestly.

"What's going on?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she huffs.

"There are riots happening all over the city! Mom said you got shot!"

"Yes. I don't recommend it," I reply sardonically, then frown.

"Draga is dead." She gasps.

"Oh no! How? Did the rebels get him?" I have to purse my lips to bite back a snippy comment about her instantly assuming that the rebels are to blame. That would be Maggie behavior, I remind myself. We're above that.

"No. Lady Shaa murdered him," I clarify.

"And Lady Faarah too."

"Blood and acid, really?!" she exclaims.

"Why? We'll definitely make her answer for that."

"She already did," I say with a level of vicious satisfaction that I'll probably feel bad about later. Not right now, though. Right now I wish I could watch her turn to dust a second time.

"Oh..." Rara mutters nervously, glancing back at the armed militia behind her.

"That might explain why the inquisition is all over the harbor. Mom told me that she had to rescind our family's support for you—which is total fricking godshit, by the way—but Al told me this morning that you might need to find passage on Captain Jira's ship." The Alchemist? I'd almost forgotten about him. He did mention something about making some arrangements, didn't he? Wait—did he know this was going to happen? If he did and let us walk into it without warning, I might just kill him.

"That's where we're headed," I confirm.

"I don't think this city is safe for us anymore." If it ever was.

"Fargo and I came looking for you once we heard about the riots, but the inquisitors are trying to lock down the harbor," she explains.

"Where is he?" Usually, Taaka isn't far from her keeper, but the self-proclaimed adventurer is nowhere to be seen.

"Back at the docks," she says.

"He sent Taaka with me to find you since 'she's got a better sense of direction,' and stayed behind with Tal to try to talk them into letting Jira's ship through." A bad sense of direction is a rather concerning trait for an explorer.

"Talla's there too?" I ask.

"Apparently?" she hedges.

"I don't think that's where Mom sent her, but Tal's always just done her own thing."

"Unlike you?" She winks.

"We are sisters! Taaka, come here sweetie!" The oversized ferret hops from my shoulder and into her embrace, which unfortunately sends another lance of pain through my chest. I'm having Talla take a look at that the second we're out of danger— Wait, we're not going to be able to rely on her anymore, are we? Ugh, it's all falling apart. While I'm having that minor crisis, Rara gives Taaka a bit of dried meat.

"Go find your partner and tell him to bring Jira to meet us at the Gaa district docks." Taaka chitters in acknowledgement and scampers off along the riverbank.

"Can she deliver messages like that?" I wonder.

"Only to Fargo," she replies.

"Talking to Taaka is the only thing that freeloader is good for." The words are unkind, but even I can hear the hint of affection in her voice. I'd be worried about her having lingering feelings for an ex-lover, but I don't know if that's what it is and I've got much bigger problems to think about anyway. I'm not sure why the thought even crossed my mind. I may be growing slightly delirious.

"Gaa might be a problem," I note.

"They know I killed Lady Kiera." Her eyes widen and she claps a hand to my mouth, looking behind her and shushing me urgently.

"Shh! Violet, right? Or are you Maggie?" she asks.

"No, your posture is too straight to be Maggie." I'm a bit hurt that she even considered that I might be Maggie, of all people. It's balanced out by the fact that she can tell us apart by posture, but still—ow.

"Listen—don't say that out loud. Ever," she commands in a hushed tone, her face uncharacteristically stern.

"I don't care if you openly confessed it before a tribunal, it never happened."

"What purpose is there in hiding behind such a flimsy lie?" Eva asks. Ignoring that, I nod in agreement. That was a slip of the tongue—I'm just not thinking straight right now.

"Okay," she sighs, removing her hand and relaxing her shoulders.

"Look, we'll figure something out, but maybe let Allie do the talking, if it comes to that, okay?" I refrain from pointing out that it was Allison's idea to confess in the first place. Though I have my doubts, if anybody is going to talk us out of this, I can't think of a better team than Allie and Rara. She turns to address the armed men still standing by.

"Take us to the docks. If any of Gaa's personal guard try to stop us, tell them that Lady Tara Goa Baanu will answer only to Matriarch Gaa herself." One of the men at the front salutes.

"Yes ma'am! If we're approached by inquisitors, ma'am?" She purses her lips and glances back at me, lowering her voice so only I can hear.

"You're sure that Lady Shaa murdered a fellow noblewoman in cold blood?" It rankles that she's not even mentioning Draga, but I know she doesn't mean anything by it. She's probably just considering what's actionable.

"Shot her in the back of the head," I confirm. Rara furrows her brows and nods tightly before turning back to give her guards the order.

"Shoot them on sight."