The magical voice from the dispatch crystal on Borrun's shoulder was still echoing in the damp air.
"...Suspects are armed and considered treasonous. Usage of deadly force is authorised."
Elian backed up until his spine hit the cold brick of the dead-end alley. Rain slicked his hair into his eyes, but he didn't dare wipe it away. Ten yards in front of them, a wall of black steel blocked the exit.
Seven Iron Guards.
They didn't look like peacekeepers. Under the reddish glow of the gas lamps, their black armour and heavy halberds made them look like executioners.
"Officer Borrun and Officer Elian of the Watch," the lead Guard boomed, his voice amplified by his helmet. "Drop your weapons, and surrender peacefully."
Borrun stood his ground, his boots planted in the mud. He didn't drop his sword. "I am an officer of the law! This dispatch is a lie! We are investigating a lead!"
"There is no investigation," the Guard replied, lowering his halberd into a charging stance. "There is only a verdict. Drop your weapons. Now!"
Elian gripped his truncheon, though he knew it was a toothpick against plate armor. "Borrun," he whispered. "I don't think this ends with a night in a lock-up."
The Iron Guards crept closer to them, weapons drawn. Their murderous intent stifling the air around Borrun and Elian, almost choking them.
"Well they are not going to find us easy marks," Borrun grunted. "Come at us then you mud-slappers!"
The lead Guard signalled. "Kill them both."
The wall of steel surged forward. The heavy stamp of their boots shook the puddles.
PSSSH-CRACK!
It wasn't a gunshot. It was the sound of high-pressure metal rupturing.
A massive steam pipe running along the alley wall—right next to the Guards' heads—burst open. A jet of scalding white vapor exploded outward with the force of a cannon blast.
The Guards screamed, blinded and burned, stumbling back in the sudden whiteout.
"Down here, you idiots!"
A grate in the floor at Elian's feet rattled and slid open. A hand reached out—a hand wrapped in rag-bandages.
Elian didn't ask questions. He grabbed Borrun by the back of his breastplate and shoved the dwarf into the hole. Elian dove in after him, hitting the muck of the sewer just as a halberd blade sparked against the stone rim above.
The grate slammed shut. Darkness swallowed them.
Elian landed hard in knee-deep sludge. He scrambled up, coughing, his eyes adjusting to the dark.
"Move," a voice commanded from the shadows. "They will be calling for reinforcements. They will be crawling all over the sewers soon enough."
Elian squinted. Standing on a raised walkway, reloading a long-barreled rifle, was a woman in a tattered trench coat. She looked like she belonged to the darkness—sharp, jagged, and dangerous.
"Mara?" Elian breathed.
"You're loud," his sister snapped, racking the bolt of her rifle. "You're clumsy. And now, you're famous."
"What are you doing here?" Elian gasped.
"Well, saving your asses apparently,"Mara coolly replied and started into a jog.
"I mean how did you know we were there?" Elian quickened his pace to match his sister's.
"I followed you. Since you came down the elevators. And when I saw the Iron Guards, I figured you might need my help." Mara threw a sideways glance.
"They set us up," Borrun growled, wiping sewage from his beard as he stood up. "Dispatch... they called us traitors."
"Well that's what happens when you murder a member of the royal family," Mara said dryly. "I never thought that my goody two shoes brother had it in him. Now, stop talking and run. The Irons will be pouring poison gas down the vents any minute now."
Elian opened his mouth to fire off a retort but Mara had already slipped into the darkness.
Mara led them through the "Veins"—the labyrinth of ancient drainage tunnels beneath the city. She moved with a predator's grace, while Elian and Borrun stumbled behind, their boots heavy with muck.
Eventually, they reached a dry cistern converted into a bunker. The roar of the city above was just a dull thrum here.
Mara lit a lantern, casting long, dancing shadows against the damp walls. She turned to face them, her expression unreadable.
"The people here aren't really big fans of the authorities," she said, gesturing at their Watch uniforms. "So let me do the talking."
Borrun straightened his armor, trying to regain some dignity. "I am Borrun of the City Watch. And I demand to know—"
"You demand nothing," Mara interrupted, slamming her rifle onto a crate. "You are a fugitive, Borrun. Just like Elian. Just like me. The dispatch didn't just frame you for murder; they erased you. If you go back up there, you don't get a trial. You get a shallow grave."
Elian sank onto a bench, putting his head in his hands. "It's a coup. Killing the Prince, framing the humans, purging the Watch... it's a cleanup operation."
"And you're the loose ends..." Mara said. "I saw you walking out of Silas' workshop. Any leads?"
"I'm afraid we can't share any details of our investigation with - civilians," said Borrun, as he crossed his arms.
"You still think you are a lawman Borrun? They signed a warrant for your deaths and I just saved your lives." Mara glared at Borrun, her gaze almost burning a hole in the dwarf's face.
"I think we owe her that much Borrun," Elian stepped in between the two, " - and I think breaking Watch regulations is the least of our concerns right now."
Elian looked pleadingly at Borrun, and the dwarf just shrugged and looked away. Elian turned to Mara, "We saw the body. It looked like a gunshot wound. But I don't think a human gun made it, because the wound was cauterized."
Mara kept her composure, but Elian could tell that she was startled.
"So I went to see Silas, to find out if he knew anything. He mentioned Sun-Dust -"
"Wait, Sun-Dust?" Mara interrupted.
"Yes, why? You know what it is?" this time Elian's curiosity was piqued.
"Maybe, but how did you know about the murder in the first place?" Mara countered with her own question.
"Don't try to change the subject Mara. We got a dispatch message. You know something about the Sun-Dust, don't you?" Elian grew restless.
"Look don't you find it strange that you were the only Watchmen called to the scene? And isn't the Upper Ring the Iron Guards' jusridiction?"
Elian was stumped. He looked at Borrun, brows furrowed, unsure what to make of Mara's question. The thought never crossed his mind. Why were they dispatched to the scene? Was it all a set-up? But the Iron Guards didn't seem to expect them coming either.
"I, I - I don't know," Elian was at a a loss for words.
"You were just scapegoats," scoffed Mara. "Fine, I'll tell you what I know about the Sun-Dust. We just stole a shipment".
"What?! When did this happen? How?" howled Elian.