Holsley greedily inhaled the air at the bottom of the stairs, which was surprisingly fresh given the fact that they were now so deep underground.

A long stone corridor sprawled out before them. Pillars stood stoically on either side of the flagstone floor, and, at almost every inch, there were cats. Holsley couldn't count how many, but the floor was so utterly covered in them that he had initially mistaken it for a squirming patchwork rug.

'Whoa,' he whispered as they marched through, carefully stepping over the lazing felines. 'Why are there so many cats?'

'We can't keep them out,' Tyla smiled. 'Like us, they're very good at moving unseen and can struggle through even the smallest of gaps. So, we've kind of adopted them.'

'I've never liked them.' Roland rolled his shoulders. 'Every morning you'd wake up covered in cat fur.'

'Oh yeah,' added Tyla. 'It's a nightmare.'

Holsley looked over at the wool sack one of the henchmen was carrying. Good thing Tiacat was in there, otherwise they'd have no hope of finding her again amongst this horde. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

They were marched down the corridor and towards a large set of stone doors. Tyla banged her fists against the stone in a rhythmic pattern that caught Holsley's attention. It was the tune to a song, though he couldn't quite recognise it. The doors came open and their eyes had to quickly adjust to the onslaught of sudden light.

From what Holsley could see, they were in a keep of some kind. The walls were large stone blocks cemented together, and the hallways had that grandiose feeling to them that you only got in castles or keeps. The ceilings were high and the architecture, though degraded beyond recognition with age, was fanciful and stoic, and there were doors to many, many rooms.

Once, this might have been a place worthy of remembrance, but now it housed a den of thieves who worked best when forgotten. Though, the art was in good taste. Every wall they walked past was decorated in elaborate paintings or standing stone statues. They looked both pretty and expensive, and Holsley knew in a second that they were all stolen.

'So, where are we exactly?' he asked.

'The Undercity,' Roland replied. 'It's where the Whispers operate from, and where they keep all of their loot.'

A happy human child wrapped in shadowy blankets danced past them into another room.

'And children?' Holsley raised an eyebrow.

'Adopted,' said Tyla. 'Little thieves in training.'

'For a price,' muttered Roland.

'We don't exactly know what the Undercity is, but we've always reckoned it belonged to a clan of dwarves quite a few centuries ago,' said Tyla rapping her knuckles on the bust of a dwarven solider with angry eyebrows. 'When this place was found, there was evidence of dwarven literature and weapons. We think they were mining something that ran out. Like gold or silver.'

'Oh wow, there were dwarves this far north?' Holsley questioned. 'I thought they were all in the south?'

'It might not have always been that way.' Tyla gave him a wink. 'We don't believe we're under Tressa anymore either, despite the name. We think we're underneath the Coen Mountains.'

Quiet followed for the next few minutes as they navigated the span of stone hallways that wormed through the underground keep. Holsley took this opportunity to sidle up next to Roland, away from Tyla's and the other Whisper's ears. Roland didn't turn his head to him but gave him a quick nod to acknowledge that he knew he was there.

'So, uh, what can we expect?' Holsley asked in whisper. 'Anything I should know?'

'We're being taken to see Her,' replied Roland in an equal murmur. 'She's the head of the Whispers.'

'What's her name?'

'Her,' replied Roland.

'Yes, her.'

'No, that's her name,' Roland replied. 'Her. She only goes by her pronouns.'

'Oh, Her is her name?' Holsley blinked. 'That's unusual?'

'That's only the half of it,' Roland added. 'No one's ever seen Her, either. She's always shrouded in darkness and absolutely hates light.'

'Right,' said Holsley, still unsure about all of this. 'What does she, no, Her, want?'

'I can guess it has something to do with my debt,' he replied. 'It's always about the debt.'

'I think that's a given,' said Tyla from behind.

Another moment more and they were staring down a corridor at a towering set of doors that were at least three times their height above them. The size was the least unusual thing about it, though. The door was covered in ice. Absolutely blanketed in white snow, which had bunched up around the bottom. Strange, seeing as the hallways were quite temperate, even given their distance beneath the ground.

Holsley guessed this might be the entrance to a throne room of some kind. He didn't know much about dwarves, but he knew they loved their throne rooms. He had no idea what the ice was about.

'One more thing,' said Roland. 'Let me do the talking and don't conjure up your light. No matter what.'

Stolen novel; please report.

'Okay!'

'Seriously.' Roland turned to Holsley. 'She'll kill anything that produces a light source.'

'Oh-kay,' Holsley replied again, a little less confident. 'Leave the talking to you, don't produce any light. Anything else?'

'Don't let her touch you.'

Roland straightened as they reached the door, where they were forced to wait. The rogue cast his mind back. There were only two reasons to be standing here when you were in the Whispers. Either you were about to receive a great honour, or you were about to be cut down to size. For him, it had always been the latter.

Roland itched the prominent scar at his lower back.

The ice cracked and split as the doors creaked open. Beyond, there was nothing to see. The room was pitch black. Holsley could guess that it was magical darkness from the way the light from the corridor had trouble breaking into the room. It was like there was a line on the floor and nothing could cross it.

'Good luck,' Tyla said as she pressed Fox's satchel against Roland's chest. 'You're going to need it.'

He hadn't even seen her retrieve it from the bag.

A second later, they heard a crunch and a thud, which was the door closing, and suddenly found themselves in the midst of an overwhelming night. Underfoot, Holsley could feel the uneven ground; it wasn't snow as he had expected. It was solid, but not concrete. It felt more like he was stepping atop and over piles of coins. They even jingled. His eyes went wide. As far as he knew, there was only one kind of creature that kept a hoard of wealth like this.

'Sssso, you return.'

Roland closed his eyes and took a breath, even though he couldn't see it, he knew his breath was visible in the shuddering air.

Her had a hissing and strained voice, as if she was on the brink of choking, and it had always reminded him of an old woman two minutes from death's door. It was unnatural, cringey, and hard to listen to. He could feel the temperature drop a little as something moved around them. Roland couldn't guess the shape, but he knew it was big.

'It hasss been ssso long,' the voice continued.

'Not long enough,' replied Roland.

'Have you nothing to say?' the disembodied voice asked. 'You disssappoint me.'

'Why have you brought me here?' Roland asked. 'Why have Tyla spy on me in the dungeons if you had no intention of saving me from the noose?'

'You're not a member anymore, why ssshould we sssave you?'

'Why would you spy on me then?'

'You returned to the city with sssomething valuable,' Her replied. 'I told Tyla to ssspy on you in cassse you managed to retrieve it, and you have. That'sss why you are here.'

'You want the ruby,' said Roland. 'Of course.'

'You ssstill owe a debt, Roland Darrow, and we want it repaid.' There was a subtle shift in the voice. Her had moved more to his left and had bridged the gap between her mouth and his ear. 'You ssstole from usss, but if you give usss the ruby, we'll call it even. It would be more than enough to cover your debtsss.'

'You're not having the ruby.' Roland straightened. 'It's mine.'

'Whoa, let's not be too quick to decide that.' Holsley butted in, stepping forward and immediately stumbling. 'What exactly did you steal, Roland? What's at the heart of all this trouble?'

'It's not about what I stole, it's about who I stole it from.'

'Fox?'

'Yeah,' Roland replied. 'From Fox.'

'Roland ssstole a valuable talisssman from Fox Matthewsss,' the voice added. 'That wasssn't all though, wasss it?'

Roland hesitated.

'Roland?' Holsley pushed.

'I was planning on using the talisman to escape the city. I knew it wasn't enough to pay off the Thief's Debt if I sold it, but I did know it could get me far away,' he replied, taking a breath. 'I had the talisman, had hired the ship, and I was a second away from stepping aboard when Fox showed up. We scuffled, and I took the talisman and threw it into the harbour. He jumped in after it and I escaped. When Fox returned to the docks, tubheads were waiting for him. Since he was holding the talisman, it was cut and dry. He got imprisoned and I got thrown out of the guild.'

'Wow,' Holsley whispered. 'Just…wow.'

'It wasssn't enough to pay off your debtsss,' said Her. 'It wasss enough to pay off hisss, though.'

'That's what he meant in the alley when he said you'd imprisoned him more than ever,' said Holsley.

'I just wanted to escape the guild,' said Roland. 'That's all. I didn't know they'd be on him so fast.'

'Yeah, I can see why he really hates you now,' said Holsley, who now had a lot to think about. He didn't know why, but he'd always assumed at the back of his mind that Fox's anger was overblown. Now, he could see it and even see why people were distrustful of Roland. He really had ruined Fox's life.

'I'm sorry for it,' said Roland then. 'I didn't mean for that to happen.'

'You ssstill did nothing to fix it, though.'

Holsley took a breath, he had a lot of think about, but that would have to wait until later.

'Maybe there's a compromise here,' he said, stepping forward. 'Roland, would you be willing to give up some of the ruby?'

Roland didn't answer.

'Okay. Miss, uh, darkness, scary thing, would you be willing to accept only part of the ruby in return for letting us go?'

'No.'

'Oh boy, this is quite the stalemate then,' said Holsley, pulling his collar. 'Are we doomed to stand here while eternity passes us by?'

'You're being chasssed by the Hangman, aren't you?'

Roland raised an eyebrow for all the good that gesture did him in the dark. 'You know something?'

'I do,' Her chimed. 'I'll allow you to keep a sssingle piece of the ruby, enough to buy your way out of the city in return for the ressst to pay off your remaining debt. In addition, I'll alssso ssshare what I know about the Hangman.'

'That sounds fair,' said Holsley.

Roland thought on it for a moment.

'I also want a good meal and a warm bed for me and my friend tonight,' he demanded after the moment had passed. 'In my old room. If you can assure that, we've got a deal.'

'Deal.'

With a great deal of reluctance, Roland removed the ruby pieces from the satchel and threw them slowly into the darkness. They clinked against the ground. Each toss was accompanied by a stabbing-like pain in his stomach. He kept only one piece, the biggest, for himself and stowed it away in his pocket. There was a noise, not unlike the clicking of bones, which must have been Her sweeping up the pieces and inspecting them for herself.

'Interesssting,' she muttered. 'A Gem of Yorn.'

Holsley didn't miss that, it wasn't the first time the ruby had been referred to like that.

'What exactly is the Hangman of Tressa?' Roland asked then, growing impatient. 'Tell me.'

'Good question,' Holsley whispered through the gloom.

'Thanks.'

Her waited a moment, as if building the tension of her answer.

'Under the right circumssstances, when a person diesss, they can be brought back to life as a thrall,' she replied. 'There are many waysss to do this, but each are woven with, what your kind consssiders, darker magicsss.'

'A thrall?' repeated Holsley. 'You're saying that the Hangman was a person once and is now, like, a supernatural servant?'

'Perhapsss.'

'What circumstances need to be met to bring a person back like that?' asked Roland.

'Betrayal and fear,' she sang. 'Only a perssson ripped from thisss world can be brought back like that. Murdered. They mussst harbour a lot of anger, but more importantly, fear. Fear isss what drivesss the Hangman.'

'That makes sense. They're a Servant of Xoal,' said Holsley, remembering what Merhim had told them. 'A paladin of fear.'

'How can I evade the Hangman then?' Roland shouted into the darkness. 'Let's get the real question answered.'

'None have ever essscaped the Hangman of Tressa in the fifteen yearsss sssince they were first ssspoken of. They are very effective.' The voice hesitated. 'That isss except for one person. If you can find thisss individual, you may find an anssswer about evading the Hangman and leaving the city.'

'And who is this individual?' asked Roland. 'I need a name.'

'Dan Biggensss.'

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