Chapter 27 · The Debt Wakes Up

The laugh came up through the broken floor.

Not loud. Not at first.

Just one rough breath of sound under our boots, like somebody had been buried alive for years and had finally found the joke.

Then the whole chamber jumped.

Dust rained down from the ceiling. The dead ritual lamps burst one by one, spraying red sparks across the stone. Elara grabbed the edge of the chair she had been tied to, even though the chains hanging from it were already split open.

Dorian caught my arm before I hit the floor.

His hand was warm.

Too warm.

"Mara." His voice came out low. Tight. "We need to move. Now."

I pulled against his grip. "What the hell is under East Dock?"

Nobody answered.

That was answer enough.

Sable limped around a fallen pillar, one hand pressed hard against her side. Blood had soaked through her black shirt. Her usual perfect mouth was twisted like she had bitten into bad fruit.

"Not here," she said.

"Oh, good," I snapped. "Because I was worried we might have time for a nice sit-down.