Holsley didn't talk much, but Roland could tell what he was thinking about. Dan Biggens. How had that seemingly innocent bard both caught the attention of the Hangman and managed to avoid that fate? The question followed the boys as they stalked between the lengthy and dimly lit corridors of the Undercity.

'Just try to forget about it for now,' Roland whispered to him. 'We'll figure it out later.'

Holsley nodded in return.

Tyla kept with them through the march, leading them to a room Roland was overly familiar with. Through a door to a small dining room with an old wooden table sat at its centre. Their stomachs grumbled. It was filled to the brim with a magnificent chicken dinner and every side dish imaginable. Roast potatoes, string beans, gravy, carrots, mash, and the rest. Beyond the table were two doors, one of which led into Roland's old bedroom. He cringed at the thought of going back there.

'Okay, yeah,' said Holsley, sniffing the air. 'I'm starving.'

The three took up a chair at the table. Roland sat at one end, being wary of everything he put into his mouth. Holsley sat somewhere in the middle, not really caring if this meal was his last. Tyla sat at the other end, carefully digging into her plate with a knife and fork, then secretly eating the food beneath her disconcerting mask.

They were silent as they ate, but when the quiet reached its tenth minute it became near unbearable. Things weren't being said, and Roland could hear the unspoken words like they were being tunnelled through a brass horn into his ear.

'So, you're a bard, Holsley?' Tyla said as she cut up some of her dinner, her knife scraping against the plate. Roland winced. 'That's quite a skill. I wish I could play an instrument.'

'Oh, uh, I learnt it in my youth,' Holsley said wistfully, but his face suddenly took on a more sombre look. 'From a friend.'

'Do you know that the first time Roland went out thieving, he soiled his undergarments?' Tyla giggled. Holsley fumbled his water. Roland let out a groan. 'It went down the front of his trousers and everything. I'm still haunted by the memory of the crying little boy who couldn't pilfer a coin from an old woman and peed himself.'

'I was five at the time, and the woman had yelled at me,' Roland growled. He turned to Holsley and pointed his fork at Tyla. 'First time she went thieving she got lost and it took the guild three hours to find her.'

'I remember that.' Tyla laughed. 'Gods, I was so scared. Couldn't figure out how to light my lantern.'

'Sounds like you two really know each other,' said Holsley between mouthfuls of food. 'Did you grow up together then?'

'You could say that,' replied Tyla. 'I was like his big sister.'

'Big nightmare more like.' Roland dug his teeth into a leg of chicken. 'Always critical of everything I did.'

'He'd follow me around everywhere like a little puppy. Always asking questions and trying to prove himself. It was adorable,' Tyla cooed, then straightened. 'Still, I'm more interested in how things are now for you, Roland. I heard you became a pirate? Though, that's the easiest thing to guess about you since every crier in the city is shouting it to anyone blessed with hearing.'

'I don't want to talk about it.' Roland pointed his eyes down at his plate and kept them there. 'I didn't become one voluntarily.'

'We were so close when we were children,' said Tyla, and though she was talking to Holsley, the young bard knew she was talking to Roland. 'Then he stole something very precious to me, and I realised he didn't care about me at all.'

'I did,' said Roland.

'You did steal it, or you did care?' Tyla asked. 'Though, I suppose it doesn't matter your answer, you wouldn't have done it either way if you actually cared about me.'

Roland didn't say anything.

'Should we call it a night?' Holsley patted the food at the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, leaving grease behind. 'I am stuffed, and we've got a big day tomorrow, right?'

'It's the penultimate day before the Hangman turns up, isn't it?' asked Tyla. Roland glanced up at her. 'How are you going to wriggle out of that one?'

Roland, feeling fully inspired to leave the conversation, pushed his chair out from the table and stood up. It squealed against the ground, bringing all talk to a stop. 'I have a feeling that if the universe wanted me dead, I'd be dead. As it happens, I'm not. Seems a waste of fate to avert my death for only five days.'

'That's optimistic?' Tyla raised an eyebrow. 'No. What's the word? Spiritual. It's not like you to believe in fate or destiny. Where's that come from?'

'Maybe I've got a reliable source.'

'What does that mean?' asked Holsley.

'I'm going to bed,' said Roland, ignoring the question and moving away from the table. 'Big day and everything.'

'Yeah, me too.' Holsley stretched. He grabbed a plate and stacked it with food, mainly bits of bacon and sausage. Roland knew the intention there; he was going to feed it to the cat. 'Boy, I could sleep for a thousand years after that meal. Can't remember the last time I had food this good.'

'Not everyone down here is a thief,' said Tyla, answering the question Holsley didn't ask. 'We give home to artists, cooks, blacksmiths, and every other kind of person you can think of. Those that don't like living on a map.'

'For a price,' muttered Roland, rubbing the scar at his lower back again.

Holsley stood up with a groan, shifting the weight of his stomach and hobbling towards the closest of the doors. Roland cleared his throat and redirected Holsley to the other one with a nod of his head. Holsley gave him a grateful wink in return and stumbled in that direction.

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'You coming?' he asked.

'We need to talk first,' said Tyla, also standing up now.

'I'll be in shortly,' Roland replied, glancing over at her. He supposed they did. 'Get some rest mate.'

'Oh, we've left your cat in there for you!' Tyla shouted as Holsley entered the room. 'I hope you don't mind, but we put it in a proper carrier.'

The door closed behind Holsley and the silence of unspoken things once against filled the room. It didn't remain that way for long, though. Tyla rounded on Roland and spoke in a barely contained whisper.

'You're going to betray that kid, aren't you?' She spat. 'If the right opportunity comes along, yeah?'

Roland didn't say anything. He didn't want to. She was one in a long line of others that preferred to see the worst in Roland. He liked to think that they didn't really know him, but he knew a little better. This time, however, he wasn't sure if she was being truthful. Roland loved Holsley like a little brother, and it hurt to think of betraying him.

'I stayed with you in that prison for the entire time you had been captured,' she said. 'I watched you waste away. I saw everyone coming and going, and I kept an ear for those that came to your defence. Do you know how many did?'

'One.' Roland already knew the answer.

'The boy in that room.' Tyla pointed to the door. She backed up a little. 'I don't know what you did to deserve Holsley, but you better not do anything to mess it up. Not like you've done with everyone else. Not like you've done with me. I thought we were friends, Roland. I trusted you.'

Again, Roland didn't say anything. He had never been very good with conversations like this. Roland was a thief, which meant as a rule that he never returned to apologise. Instead, he stood there and listened, absorbing her words like a sponge in a bucket of water.

'You were in trouble, and he helped you,' said Tyla. 'Though, I'll admit, he can be a bit useless.'

'I know for a fact that, right now, he's struggling to get his boots off,' said Roland. 'I've seen him try and remove them every night. I think they must've shrunk in the bad weather or something.'

'Do you know some secret about that big pirate?' Tyla asked. 'Dlyn Whitmore? I've heard rumours being passed around while I was in the dungeon that seem to suggest you were being tortured for more than just fun.'

'I do,' replied Roland honestly. 'Though, I'm not going to tell you.'

'Good.' Tyla sidled a little closer. 'It makes me wonder, though. Have you told Holsley?'

'Not everything.'

'I thought not,' she said knowingly. 'Do you trust him, Roland. After he saved your life?'

'I have a hard time trusting anyone.'

'It's a serious flaw,' she said. 'If you can't trust Holsley, then who exactly can you trust?'

More silence.

'I'll never forgive you for what you did.' Tyla backed away then, moving towards the bedroom next to his. 'As far as I'm concerned, getting kicked out of the guild and stabbed was less than what you really deserved.'

'Believe it or not, I didn't come here looking for your forgiveness,' said Roland. 'I don't need it.'

'Oh, I think you do.' Tyla shook her head and half-laughed. 'You know, you still haven't apologised to me. I was rather hoping you had changed, at least a little bit. You need Holsley, Roland. Far more than you know.'

'Can I go to bed now?'

'I feel sorry for you, Roland.' Tyla was at her door now, palm pressed against the wood. 'You've always thought you didn't need anyone else. I suppose that's why it's so easy to inflict pain on the people you care about.'

'I don't need anyone,' said Roland, his turn to round on her. 'I never asked Holsley to rescue me, I never asked to be a pirate, and I never asked to be part of this guild. I've always gotten along absolutely fine without anyone else.'

'I suppose that's the way you've always seen it.' Tyla shook her head. 'I suppose you learnt all of those thieving skills of yours from a book, yeah? If there's one thing I want to drive into that thick skull of yours, just one, it's that you need other people, Roland. They're what make you better. Start trusting some of them.'

With the close of her door the conversation was ended. Roland stood there for a moment feeling rather like he'd been hit by a runaway carriage. He silently seethed. Deep down, he knew she was right, but it wasn't an easy thing to change. Trusting meant being vulnerable. He couldn't afford that kind of vulnerability. Not anymore.

Holsley had spent the first few minutes struggling to get out of his boots. Damn them. Afterwards, he had noticed the cat yowling in its new, fairly fancy cat carrier. A curiosity washed over him. He slid his boot off and reached for the lute. A second later, he was casting the spell that could allow him to converse with animals. He watched the last circle on his finger turn red. No more spells today.

Suddenly, the yowls became words that he could understand.

'I'll rip out your filthy throats and feast on them 'til judgment day!' Tiacat shrieked. 'I'll murder everything you love and care about, even if it's—'

'Whoa, whoa!' Holsley held up his hands. 'I'm sorry.'

'Sorry doesn't not cover the—'

'I've got a plate of food for you,' said Holsley, holding up the plate filled with meaty riches.

'Food?' The cat's eyes went wide as she sniffed the air. 'Well, why didn't you say so, human?'

'If I let you out of there, will you behave?'

'I am not a kitten!' she hissed.

'Good enough.' Holsley opened the door to the cat's carrier and let the creature slink out. The gems still donning its harness glittered in the light as it took a position next to the food. Holsley had never seen a creature eat so quickly. The feline gobbled the meal up without hesitation.

He watched the cat nervously. Outside, he could hear the furious whispers of Roland and Tyla. A part of him wanted to creak the door open to listen, but he resisted. It was a private conversation, and he didn't want to intrude.

'I thought we could talk,' said Holsley, kneeling besides the cat. 'Obviously, throwing you in a sack isn't in your best interests.'

'I'll rip your—'

'Throat out, I know,' said Holsley. 'Even the cat carrier is a bit much.'

The cat licked up the last bits on the plate, then stood and stared up at Holsley. She licked her lips. 'What are you suggesting, human?'

'A truce. We need to keep you as a hostage for your mistress,' said Holsley. 'We don't need to keep you in a bag, though. I was thinking more of a lead?'

'Like a common dog!?' The cat spat. 'Unthinkable.'

'What do you suggest then?'

'Do you have more food?' asked Tiacat. 'If you were to keep me fed, I will remain by your side until it becomes inconvenient.'

'I can give you food,' replied Holsley, thinking of all that stuff that sat leftover outside of the door. 'You have to stay with us, though.'

'Amongst cats, deals are never broken,' she said. 'Not by either party. In return for a full stomach, I shall stay with you. Perhaps, in time, I will no longer desire to rip your throat out.'

'Okay, well at least that's something.'

The door creaked open. Roland walked in. He stopped, taking a moment to take it all in. The room was small and uncomfortable looking. There was nothing in the way of decoration, just a small beaten bed and an old, frayed rug. Yet, he had lived here. Year after year.

'You got your boots off,' he said, looking down at Holsley with a small smile.

'Yeah,' replied Holsley, daring to give Tiacat a pat on the back as she ate. 'Just about. They must have shrunk in the bad weather or something.'

'I'd have kept them on, we're not staying,' said Roland.

'Oh?' Holsley raised an eyebrow. 'Where are we going?'

The young bard watched as Roland crossed the room to a large wooden grate on the wall. With a single sharp tug, he removed it, revealing a stone tunnel that led into places beyond. It was big enough for a person to crawl inside of.

'The reason why the air is so fresh down here is because whoever built this place put in this ventilation system. It leads back outside. I spent a lot of time crawling around in these ventilation tunnels as a kid, and I believe I still know the path.'

'Path to where?'

'Her's throne room.' Roland looked back at the bard with a smirk.

'Uh oh.'

'We're going to steal back the rest of my ruby and get out of here before anyone is the wiser.'

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