Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(194)

“Foolish thing to do.”

“No,” she said. “The fools are those who pass, without even thinking about what it must be like to live like you. Maybe if they knew, they’d give you something.”

She reached into her pocket, pulling out one of the bright handkerchiefs. She placed one in the cup. “I don’t have any coins, but I know you can sell that.”

He grunted, eyeing it. “What do you mean by word on the street?”

“Disturbances,” Vivenna said. “Ones that are out of the ordinary. Perhaps involving Awakeners.”

“Go to the Third Dock slums,” Tuft said. “Look around the buildings near the wharf. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for there.”
* * *

LIGHT PEEKED THROUGH THE WINDOW.

Morning already? Vasher thought, head down, still hanging by his wrists.

He knew what to expect from torture. He was not new to it. He knew how to scream, how to give the torturer what he wanted. He knew how to not expend his strength in resisting too much.

He also knew that none of that was likely to do any good. How would he be after a week of torture? Blood dripped down his chest, staining his undershorts. A dozen small pains nagged at his skin, cuts that had been drenched in lemon juice.

Denth stood with his back facing Vasher, bloodied knives on the ground around him.

Vasher looked up, forcing a smile. “Not as much fun as you thought it would be, is it, Denth?”

Denth didn’t turn.

There’s still a good man in there, Vasher thought. Even after all these years.

He’s just been beaten down. Bloodied. Cut up worse than I have been.

“Torturing me won’t bring her back,” Vasher said.

Denth turned, eyes dark. “No. It won’t.” He picked up another knife.
* * *

THE PRIESTS PUSHED SIRI through the passageways of the palace. They occasionally passed corpses in the dark black hallways, and she could still hear fighting in places.

What is going on? Someone was attacking the palace. But who? For a moment, she hoped it was her people—her father’s soldiers, coming to save her. She discarded that immediately. The men opposing the priests were using Lifeless soldiers; that ruled out Idris.

It was someone else. A third force. And they wanted to free her from the grip of the priests. Hopefully, her calls for help would not go unheeded. Treledees and his men led her quickly through the palace, passing through the colorful inner rooms in their rush to get to wherever they were going.



The white cuffs of Siri’s dress suddenly began to bend with color. She looked up with hope as they entered a last room. The God King stood inside the room, surrounded by a group of priests and soldiers.

“Susebron!” she said, straining against her captives.

He took a step toward her, but a guard held his arm, pulling him back. They’re touching him, Siri thought. All semblance of respect is gone. No need to pretend now.

The God King looked down at his arm, frowning. He tried to tug it free, but another soldier stepped up to help hold him. Susebron glanced at this man, then at Siri, confused.

“I don’t understand either,” she said.

Treledees entered the room. “Bless the Colors,” he said. “You’ve arrived. Quickly, we must go. This place is not safe.”

“Treledees,” Siri said, turning to glare at him. “What is going on?”

He ignored her.

“I am your queen,” Siri said. “You will answer my question!”

He actually stopped, surprising her. He turned with an annoyed look. “A group of Lifeless has attacked the palace, Vessel. They are trying to get to the God King.”

“I figured out that much, priest,” Siri snapped. “Who are they?”

“We don’t know,” Treledees said, turning from her. As he did, a distant scream came from outside the room. It was followed by the sound of fighting.

Treledees glanced toward the sounds. “We have to move,” he said to one of the other priests. There were, perhaps, a dozen of them in the room, as well as a half-dozen soldiers. “The palace has too many doorways and passages. It would be too easy to surround us.”

“The back exit?” the other priest said.

“If we can get to it,” Treledees responded. “Where is that squadron of reinforcements I demanded?”

“They’re not coming, Your Grace,” a new voice said. Siri turned to see Bluefingers, looking haggard, enter through the far door with a couple of wounded soldiers. “The enemy has taken the east wing and is pushing this way.”

Treledees cursed.

“We have to get His Majesty to safety!” Bluefingers said.

“I’m well aware of that,” Treledees snapped.

“If the east wing has fallen,” the other priest said, “we won’t be able to get out that way.”

Siri watched, helpless, trying to get Bluefingers’s attention. He met her eyes, then nodded covertly, smiling. “Your Grace,” Bluefingers said. “We can escape through the tunnels.”

The sounds of fighting were growing closer. It seemed to Siri that their room was virtually surrounded by combat.

“Perhaps,” Treledees said as one of his priests rushed to the door to peek out. The soldiers who had come with Bluefingers were resting by the wall, bleeding. One of them seemed to have stopped breathing.