"When I saw the smoke, I had to come back," Harker said. "It wasn't even a question." She sourly eyed the pack of summoned demons trailing me as we trotted down the street looking for any straggling undead or enemy demons. "But if you think I'm going to let you kill me because I broke your exile, you've got another thing coming. We're all likely to be dead as soon as the Orcs decide to join in the sacking anyway, and if I've got to go, it's gonna be while I'm fighting."

I wasn't sure what to say. I had told the woman I'd kill her if she ever came back, but the situation had changed. She knew the streets, she knew the people, and we needed all the help we could get.

"She was here and you weren't," Bryll said from my other side. "You touch her and I'll cut off your toes in your sleep."

"I'm not going to," I snapped back, nettled. "Fortune's balls, Bryll, you don't have to protect her; she was Ticosi's lieutenant. You'd have pissed in your breeches if she caught sight of you six months ago."

"Maybe you would have," the girl replied. Behind us I heard Naydarin giggle. It was the first sound I'd ever heard the Fire Source-wielding urchin make.

We reached the half-built chapel I'd had Penkmun the Tender start on not that long ago – it felt like another lifetime – and I rushed into the skeletal structure, fearing the worst. The front wall was only bricked in up to head height and there was no door in the double-wide wooden frame, but it had been long enough since I checked in that I didn't know if that represented damage done by the invaders or that was just as far as construction had proceeded. Great timbers reared overhead, but the rooms within were still open to the sky. Everything was in disarray, with piles of wood jumbled in corners and hammers and such lying about. I didn't see any blood, but I didn't see any people, either.

"Penk!" Bryll shouted. "Where are you?"

Harker shushed her. "You want to draw every enemy in earshot and get trapped inside this box?"

The little blonde urchin bristled, brandishing the combat cards she had in hand. "Just 'cuz I stood up for you doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do."

"Using street kids as enforcers," the older woman growled, throwing me a dark look.

"They've done a damn sight better than your lot," I shot back. "Ask around. Things were going well until the attack."

"There's nobody to ask," Harker said. "Ticosi might have been a mean bastard, but he didn't let the whole neighborhood get wiped out, either."

My hackles rose, and the charged Talisman of Spite on my chest buzzed enticingly. Why was I listening to her? Did this has-been, this criminal show up just to taunt me with my failures? How could she possibly think I could have prevented this?

"Over here," called the Night Terror, who had been combing its way through the interior rooms of the chapel.

Giving Harker a warning glare, I followed the voice. In the rear of the building, overshadowed by the rising back wall, a wide, heavy slab of joined wood lay on the dirt floor. The wood looked as if it might serve for one of the great front doors eventually. "I hear crying," the demon said. "Little ones. Such a sweet sound."

My heart quickened. "Pick this up."

The demon bent to obey and then paused, turning to me and opening its mouth.

"Yes, I'm going to elevate you as soon as I can," I barked. "Do it!"

Muttering discontentedly to itself, the demon complied. Even in its smaller form the Night Terror's strength was more than enough to hoist the slab into an upright position. A dark cellar gaped beneath it, and pale, smudged faces looked up from below. I heard cries of fear as the hidden people first saw the demon, but when I stepped forward, I heard several people utter thanks to the Twins, and more than one person burst into tears.

"It's all right," I told them. "We're clearing the neighborhood."

Penkmun pushed toward the front, beaming. "I told you he'd be along, didn't I? The Twins watch over us."

"And if they don't, I will," I added. Somebody down below laughed, and I heard Harker sniff in disdain. I felt a flush of embarrassment. She thought I was showing off for her benefit. "Come on," I told the woman gruffly. "Help me get them out."

Penkmun was the first to clamber up out of the hole with my assistance. "I'm awfully glad to have planned for an extensive cellar space," he said dryly. "Not that I thought we'd be putting it to use so soon, nor in quite this fashion."

'How many?" I asked him as others began streaming up out of the unfinished space. More and more appeared as their friends turned around and lent their own hands to the task.

"I was in the middle of a service when we heard the wall fall, thank Fate," Penkmun said. "I think more than a hundred of us hunkered down here. It was a risk – the cellar hole is deep enough that I don't know how we would have lifted the cover from below – but we heard shouts and grunting just above more than once. We'd have been slaughtered if we hadn't hidden ourselves."

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Lows folk kept patting me on the shoulder or taking my hand as they passed. I gave as many of them smiles or nods as I could as I kept helping. Harker was now standing off to the side, observing with a disgruntled frown.

"I can't promise there won't be more fighting," I told Penkmun quietly. "We're clearing the streets as we go, and it seems that most of the Undead and demons are more interested in the richer districts, but if they stick around for long, that could change."

Penkmun rubbed his bald head in a worried, thinking gesture. "I'll encourage the people to stay in their homes and off the streets. Unless we can find a fortified location, that will be safest."

"Not exactly much fortification 'round here," I said. "Get too sloppy with a torch on these streets and we could lose three quarters of the homes in a day or two. Speaking of which, let's put together some fire teams. I know some of these demons use Fire too. Have them collect whatever buckets they can and use the fountain pools."

"I'll take charge of that," someone said from behind me. Turning around, my heart leapt to see Roshum the Relicsmith standing nearby.

"Fortune's grace," I said, my guts unclenching just a hair. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Our fire brigade should have at least a couple of the carded folks," he said, grinning at me, Penkmun, and the nearby Bryll equally. "Keep 'em safer with the bad ones still roaming."

"Have you handed out all the cards?" I asked him. He nodded grimly. "Damn. We need more."

Harker shouldered her way forward. "Are you telling me that you handed out all our combat cards to shopkeeps and schoolmarms?" she demanded.

"That's right," I said, fists clenching. "If folks can take care of themselves, what will we need enforcers for?"

She waved a hand dismissively, eyes boring into me. "You don't have enough cards."

"We use what we have," I barked. "If anyone else around here used Nether, I'd give them some of my own."

"Stop pretending!" Harker bellowed, getting right in my face.

The Night Terror stepped forward protectively, but I waved him off. She'd been stewing ever since she first found me, and we were going to have it out.

"You're not saving these people!" she insisted. "I don't know how, but you're conning them somehow. This won't work!"

"Madam," Penkmun said softly, "he is doing his best, and present circumstances aside, he has done marvelously well for the Lows since he came to power. People are cultivating their Source and holding their heads up. Look at them."

"It's true," Roshum said. "The place has never been so safe as lately. Goody Sorpin brought me a pie the other day, can you believe that? A pie."

Bryll was blunter. "You don't know shit, Harker. Hull's too dumb to fool people, but he is taking care of us."

My flush of self-consciousness came back twice over at the words of glowing praise, and I couldn't quite address them directly. Looking into Harker's eyes, I could see that this wasn't really what she was worried about, anyway. She wouldn't look toward the Night Terror at all. Her clothes were tattered and her eyes puffy. She had the red-rimmed look of someone who'd been drinking lots.

"I'm sorry my demon made you kill all the others," I said quietly. "I didn't ask it to do that, and I'd have stopped it if I'd known. Nobody deserves that, not even you."

She flinched, her jaw slackening, and without meaning to she looked toward the one who had tortured her. The Night Terror, leaning against the wall, merely shrugged and gave her a toothy smile. Her eyes flooded with tears, and she turned on her heel and stormed away.

"Might have been best for everyone if you killed her," Roshum said after she was gone.

"I think not," Penkmun murmured. "She has the air of one wrestling with herself."

"Never mind her," I said. "I should take these two and make sure the upper streets are clear." Naydarin and Bryll perked up like hunting dogs, nodding.

"Twins guide and protect," Penkmun sighed. "I think there are more bad days ahead."

"Damn right," I said. "I don't have any idea what's next or where I'll be. Roshum, you're still in charge of things until you see me again. Don't let Harker or anybody else horn in on you. Tell 'em my demons will chew off their thumbs if anybody gives you grief."

"You wouldn't do that," Penkmun scoffed.

"I'll do what I have to if it means keeping the Lows from getting wiped out," I said grimly. "A few thumbs are a cheap trade, if it comes to that."

The Tender grimaced, looking disappointed. He wanted me to be sweetness and light, and he'd never accept that I might still be the cutthroat gutter boy underneath all my big talk and high ideals. Well, he'll just have to deal with it. And so will I.

I was halfway to the door, shaking hands and giving words of reassurance to the folks still lingering, when Harker strode back in. Tears had cut clean streaks on her soot-smudged face, but I didn't think she'd even noticed.

"Are you going to give them all cards?" she asked, a fervent gleam in her eye.

"As many as want them, and as many as can use them," I said. "The Lows will be another Marketside in ten years if we let people live their lives."

The muscle in her jaw jumped, and for a second I thought she was going to take a swing at me. Instead, all the tension drained out of her, and she looked at the floor.

"I know where Ticosi's cache is," she whispered.

My mouth dropped open. "You said there wasn't one."

"I lied," she said with just a trace of defiance. "I was going to wait until you flamed out and died and then take them for myself."

I'd known there had to be more cards the old Big Man had hidden away than just the double handful he'd doled out to his enforcers. How much good could that cache have done over these last handful of months if they'd been in the people's hands? Instead, they'd sat under Harker's thumb, a victim of her grudge against me. Then again… whether you meant to or not, you're responsible for her having to kill everyone she worked with. She has good reason to hate you.

"And you're telling me now because…?" I asked.

Her sigh came from the depths of her soul. "If you're really giving them to everyone, I'll… show you where they are."

I let the silence hang until she looked up at me. "Why?"

Her old bovine temper flared. "I may have done some bad shit in my time, but I still love my home. And the Lows will always be my home."

I looked to Bryll and Roshum, both of whom shrugged. It could be a trap, of course – it wouldn't be the first time Harker had been a part of one of those for me – but if there were cards to be had…

"Where are we going?" I asked.

She nodded, determination coming back into her face. "Ticosi had tunnels dug all over. He never took me with him, but I followed him more than once when he had cards that needed hiding. He always went straight to the fighting pits."

An echo of the old street-kid fear passed through me. I'd almost ended up there before any of this began, back on that day when I'd taken the Rare troll card from the dying man behind Capano's tavern.

"Come on, then, " I said, trying to shake off my chill. "Looks like Ticosi's finally going to get me into the fighting pits after all."

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