Was the night always this dark? Mila had trouble remembering where to go. Was it right? No, it was across the street.
âMila?â Andrew kept bothering her. âYou canât go on like this.â
Mila used the wall she was leaning on as a spring to get herself moving. Despite the late hour, people were still moving. The loud proceeding of guards and now the fire at their station had awoken a large part of this area.
But no one interrupted them. Most of those who were roaming the streets did so cautiously, not wanting to attract any attention. They sniffed the air, wondering what disaster had befallen the city tonight.
âHere.â Mila motioned.
Mr Crowâs warning made Andrew stop. âThere is someone there.â He warned, trying to grab Mila, who slipped out of his grasp.
âAnthony.â She addressed the darkness.
âMiss Mila.â It answered, and the spy slipped out of the hiding spot behind a stack of planks. âIs this your friend?â
âWe need to get back.â Mila kept herself upright and as threatening as possible to keep her image. âI had an encounter at the station. Someone was snooping around and torturing guards.â
âWho is this?â Andrew slightly relaxed when Mila started to speak with the man. He still kept his distance.
âNot one of ours,â Anthony answered the unspoken question. âCan you tell more?â
âMila, who is this?â Andrew repeated.
âMy name is Anthony.â The spy bowed. âThe young miss met me during a raid, and because we have a common acquaintance, she decided to spare me.â
âAndrew. What raid? What acquaintance?â
âDoesnât matter.â Mila was sick of the world trying to tilt to one side. âMove.â
âYou are injured.â Anthony dryly noted, and Andrew bristled. âNo need for hostilities. It was just an observation.â
âShow the way,â Mila ordered, not commenting on her condition. And she didnât need to. âTo one of Naranâs holes.â
Anthony nodded with understanding and took over the pathfinding from Milaâs hands. âHere.â He pointed and started to walk, keeping his pace slow enough for Mila to be able to follow.
âSo, who are you?â Andrew rightfully didnât trust the man.
âI am not sure I can answer that.â Anthony wasnât keen on giving away the information. While Mila had worked together with his side back at Ocheon, Andrew had not received a glowing review as she had.
âOh, nice. You are similar to Mila.â Andrew grumbled. âYou can both stew in your secrets, then.â
Mila didnât have the strength to comment. She kept her movements automatic. It was better not to think about the pain. Ah, she was bleeding as well. The strips of cloth didnât actually stop that, right? She pondered the issue for a moment, then shrugged. It hurt.
The rest of the path was spent with Andrew grumbling and Anthony politely refusing to reply with anything substantial. Mila floated along, the world blurring around. The nightâs cold seeped into her bones. It was so chilly.
âHey!â Andrew shook her shoulder. âMila! Keep your eyes open. Is this where we have to be?â
Mila looked at the undulating door in front of her. A drunkard had opened them and studied the trio. A moment later, he recognised her and stepped to the side.
âMila?â
âYes.â
âWhat the hell happened?â Andrew couldnât wrap his head around why they were led into sewers.
They were close. Mila heard Anthony exchange words with the doorkeeper. She slumped against the wall, her shoulder offering the long-needed support. It was hard to walk.
Why did she have to anyway? Milaâs muddled thoughts struggled to find a reason to continue the struggle. But she did find one. âIsabelâ¦â
Someone was too loud next to her. Was it Andrew? Mila didnât need a healer. She needed to go and see Isabel. How silly of him. And perhaps a blanket, preferably one big enough for her girl as well.
âHey, hey!â
An obstacle. Someone was holding Mila. Obstacles had to be removed. On instinct, Mila retrieved her dagger and swung it at the annoyance. But her resistance found no purchase. Was she in danger? Again?
âThe fuck, Mila?â
âAndrew?â Right, he was here as well. Maybe she was safe.
âYou almost gutted me!â
âNo, no.â Why was her mouth so dry? âI wouldnât.â Mila found the notion stupid.
âWe need to get you to a healer.â
âBut Isabel is waiting.â
âShe can wait longer.â
âThatâs stupid.â Mila tried to walk deeper. Her girl was somewhere in these tunnels.
âWait!â
Mila didnât. It was kind of hard to walk. It was like wading through mud. Deep and wet and sludgy and slimy mud.
There was more shouting, but Mila didnât pay attention. She felt someone rush past her and touch her. The impact almost sent her tumbling onto the waving ground. Whatâs with that? Maybe if she stabbed the floor, it would stop? It was hard to walk like this.
Yes, that was an idea. Mila wanted to raise her hand and swing it down, but she simply collapsed forward and drove her dagger into the ground that way.
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Strangely, it didnât work. Mila fought against the spinning ground, trying to make her sick. The struggle was epic. She fought bravely and endlessly.
Until a new set of hands found her and hugged Mila. A familiar, calming aroma calmed her reeling mind. âHeyyyâ¦â She was pulled into Isabelâs lap. Mila tried to lift her hand to caress her girlâs hand. âLov⦠yâ¦â Words didnât come out as she wished. The arm didnât follow her orders either.
Isabel replied. Her words warmed Milaâs heart. It was probably something nice. She smiled when she was picked up and pressed against Isabelâs chest. This was nice. The world didnât stop spinning, but it felt like she belonged here. Too bad about her head being full of cotton. She couldnât quite feel the touch of the pretty breasts.
Ah, but finally, Mila could relax. She was definitely safe here.
â
Isabel rushed back to the central chamber. There had to be a healer there. Naran wouldnât run his gang without one. As far as Isabel could tell, he was too cautious and cared for his people.
âShe became delirious at the end. Tried to stab me. Didnât let anyone touch her.â Andrew followed after. âI donât know what happened. Mila was like this when she found me. Itâs a wonder she could recognise you.â
Mila let out a silly giggle. Somehow, she managed to cling to her consciousness. Not that they could ask her anything. All Mila could manage was a garbled word or a feeble movement.
It broke Isabelâs heart. She feared to hug her girl tighter. Her steadfast Mila was hurt. She wanted to know who had done it. Isabel wanted to know if the guilty party was still alive. She wanted to punish those who had done it.
Someone had to pay.
Isabel forced her mind away from revenge. That could wait. She had to get Mila to a healer.
âI canât keep up,â Andrew complained.
âThen stay.â Isabel spat out and rushed ahead. There was someone who did manage to keep up. She glanced at the bookish man doing his hardest to tag behind. âWho are you?â
The man winced. Isabelâs tone had been very harsh and demanding. âJust an accountant looking to establish connections and gather information.â
âNonsense.â Isabel didnât believe him for a second.
âI am Anthony. Isabel, right?â The man asked. âLook, I am here to see if I can help. If Miss Mila could tell me what happ-â
âThere is no need.â Isabel shut him off immediately and pulled her love closer. âShe is not talking to you until she has recovered fully.â
Anthony shrugged and slowed down, not daring to challenge Isabel. She sped up again, as much as possible, without rocking Mila too hard.
âPoke.â Mila managed to press Isabelâs cheek with a finger. âItâs cold. Warm me.â Her lips were trembling, and, even beneath the dirt and sooth, Milaâs face was visibly unhealthy pale.
It was hard for Isabel to hold back her tears. âSure.â She tried to transfer as much heat as possible.
âBetter,â Mila muttered.
But Isabel didnât believe her. She felt how cold Milaâs body was. Her girl was trembling from being cold. And Isabel didnât miss how Mila had winced when she tightened her embrace. So, it was not just a blood loss then.
There was no way Isabel would argue. âYou are welcome.â She gently tried to clean Milaâs face from the dirt that smelled like smoke. There wasnât much success.
It was taking too long. Isabel forced more and more mana into her muscles, trying to move just a little faster. Thatâs what she was good at. This was all she could do for now.
Terrifying thoughts kept messing with Isabelâs mind. Every passing second felt like forever. She fought against the intrusive ideas and nightmares trying to take hold of her. She couldnât lose Milaâ¦
There. Light. Isabel was finally at the main chamber. She pushed past the surprised woman who was watching the tunnel and skidded to stop in the centre.
âI NEED HEALER!â Isabelâs yell filled the limited space. People winced from the sudden noise, and some quicker ones moved closer to see what had happened.
Isabel searched for anyone she would know. But there was no one. While Naran had given them a pass to move in and out, most people worked for him in shifts. Those she had met during the day were gone, replaced by new faces.
âWhat the hell! Who are you?â One such person showed her ugly face.
Well, not that ugly, but very, very punchable. Isabel searched for a moment longer. âIs Naran here? Or Barcy? Cecilia?â
âNo.â The woman walked into Isabelâs line of sight. âWho are you. Answer.â
âShe is one of Bossâs guests.â A fatty helpfully added the information from behind. âArrived today.â He then waved towards one of the tunnels. âThere. A couple of minutes of walking. The doors on the right. Iâll show you the way.â He moved to help.
âYou are not!â The woman extended her hand and stopped the round man. âWho do-â
Isabel snapped. Her step-in was lightning-fast. She moved her hand with utmost care to not shake Mila. It reached the womanâs face rapidly and just as quickly moved back to hold her love.
The womanâs head flicked to the side. On the side of her face was an imprint of Isabelâs fist. She bonelessly collapsed on the ground the next moment.
There was now a silence, apart from the fatty, who hadnât stopped moving. âHere, here. Quick. She looks terrible.â
Isabel woodenly nodded and glared at everyone who happened to be in her line of sight, challenging them to do anything more than avoid her gaze.
But there was no time to discipline Naranâs people. She pivoted and ran ahead of the fatty, who didnât manage to follow her.
Mila tried to speak again. Isabel wondered how she was still holding on. âShh. Donât speak.â
Not that Isabelâs words stopped Mila. Her girl moved her lips as if trying to tell she was fine.
Isabel passed the first doors on the right. They were open, but it wasnât the right place as the room was filled with equipment.
It repeated two more times. Isabel felt Milaâs body going limp. Her girl still managed to reassure her of being âokayâ before losing consciousness.
Isabel started to panic. When she arrived at the fourth door, she kicked them out of the hinges, scaring a couple of men hunched over a third on a table with a wounded tight. âI need a healer!â She barged in.
To their credit, the men didnât try to argue. One of them moved to receive the new patient. He pointed at a free table on the side and let Isabel put Mila on it.
With the utmost care, Isabel placed her girl on the surface. She jumped back immediately. âMove!â She ordered.
While the man shook his head, he did. A moment later, the fatty arrived but left after speaking a few sentences with the healers.
Isabel watched the man murmur words and poke Milaâs body. She refrained from interrupting his work, but it was hard. Did he have to be so rough?
So, instead, Isabel focused on Milaâs face. She looked almost peaceful. Unmoving and cold. This wasnât right at all. Isabel felt tears stream down her cheeks. The man said something.
âW-what?â
âIt would be better if you left the room.â He repeated.
âNO!â Isabel raised her voice. âI-I am staying.â
The man shook his head. He hadnât stopped poking Mila for even a second. His companion brought a small bottle. It was poured into her girlfriend's mouth. The smell of grass spread through the room.
Isabel bit her lip. The tears refused to stop. It was hard to breathe. She hiccuped a couple of times. Andrew arrived at some point, but she couldnât even say a word to him.
Grim thoughts kept muddling her mind. Isabel started to pace, unsettling the healers. They once again expressed their opinion, wishing she would let them work in peace.
Isabel refused. She wouldnât leave. Her whole body was tense. It was so exhausting. For a full hour, the men kept poking Mila.
Until finally. âShe will need time to recover.â
Isabel, powerless and weeping, collapsed on the ground while trying to take a step forward. âThank you. Thank you so muchâ¦â She sobbed. Mila would be all right. She would be fine. The worst was over.
It took all her might for Isabel to move again. She almost crawled to Mila and grabbed her hand. âYouâll be all right.â She whispered and gently kissed Milaâs fingers.