"Open the gates!" Cassa yelled as the horse galloped up the wide, worn path. His voice echoed off the outer walls of the darkened fortress, making him sound even more authoritative than usual. He rode with one hand on the reigns and the other arm strapped around Tan's middle. Tan slumped in the saddle in front him like a ragdoll hung over the horse's bobbing neck, barely able to hold on.

"Who goes?" called a gateman atop the watchtower.

"Faro, captain of the Inner Gate! I order you to open! My brother Voya is desperately sick and I seek the art of the healers at once!"

"Right away, Captain!"

Tan, disguised for the second time that day, stayed as still as though asleep, watching the ground roll. As the horse slowed down to a walk he heard the whir of mechanisms and the clunking, creaking strain of the metal hinges as the doors divorced.

The horse dashed again and it took all the strength in his back and thighs not to fall off. Again the horse slowed after a short ride, snorting and impatient.

"This is your captain!" the guard bellowed up to his crew in single-file atop the wall. "I bid you open these doors immediately."

Silence.

"Somebody! Open!"

"Captain," a recruit whispered at the foot of the watch tower, "we have orders to keep the gates sealed tonight."

"That is no excuse!"

The man hesitated a beat. "Sealed ... Sealed ... even to you."

"What!?" Cassa balled his fists in anger. "Sealed to a fellow citizen? To your captain? That's in direct breach of my rights! Visshesmim, from whom have these orders been issued?"

"General Jaikham."

"Jaikham? Why him? His duty is to the palace; why should the gates be any damn concern of his? In my absence the command should have been issued by Alimayas, and in any case, my entry should not be denied. General's orders or not. You run and inform this fool Jaikham I ask him to quit his nonsense and let me by. Who does that man think he is?"

"I don't think I can do that, Captain Faro," said the footman in a low voice. "We've our orders to stay here until further notice. I'm sorry, sir."

"I'll see to this." Cassa cleared his throat. "Men! This is your superior. Anyone who defies my orders to let me by these doors will be personally escorted out into the Wastes the wrong end of a lance. Do I make myself understood? My brother is as good as a dead man for every second longer you waste pissing about with orders I did not make. I should not have to reinforce my request with threats."

At their backs the outer doors crunched shut. The sound thundered around them.

"Open this damn door!" Cassa roared. His cry reverberated off the corridor of granite and steel. They were trapped between the doors and Tan began to feel frightened. A thick silence befell them and his skin started to prickle.

"Something's wrong," he whispered to Cassa, but the guard did not outwardly acknowledge hearing him. The last slither of daylight waned and somewhere across the untold miles of desert the nightly tortured wails of ghûls commenced; a cacophony of distant screeches that set his teeth on edge. In a few hours, the purging would begin. How many more would lose their lives, or die defending those they cared about?

Out of nowhere, the ground caught fire, rapidly encircling them in heat and light. Tan lurched upright, throwing himself into Cassa's chest. Orange flames leapt up the steel walls. The horse reversed, only to shriek and rear up when the fire licked its tail.

"Kuzoroism!" Cassa hissed, struggling to calm his screaming mount. The horse's black eyes were wide and wild, and it threatened to buck them off. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Captain Faro," came a gravelly voice from atop the right-hand watchtower. A man with a cropped white beard and slick black hair stepped into view. His lips were tight, and his eyes were mere slits in his face. "I should've known you'd do this eventually," the man continued. "Give a Fishfolk man a little power and he thinks he rules the capital. May I remind you that you are beneath me, Captain. If my orders are to deny your entry, who are you to protest this?"

"I'm sorry, General Jaikham," Cassa replied, though nothing in the guard's voice sounded apologetic. "My brother is sick, he -"

"Your brother?" Jaikham cut in. The masked kuzorocari beside him let out a 'Ha!' that sliced the air. "Is that so? Then do you mind removing his silks and showing me the boy's face? You see, I've heard some interesting rumours about you today."

"The boy is weak, General, the attention he requires is beyond urgent. I shall not trouble him in this state."

The flames towered even higher in reply, threatening to consume them in its crackling jaws.

"Tell me true and your punishment shall be less severe. Lie to me and you will face immediate discipline. Does the boy have fair hair? Are his irises blue?"

"No."

"Did he, at some time today, have a stolen, valuable item in his possession?"

"The boy is Voya Faro, the youngest of my brothers."

An unpleasant silence lingered between them and Tan hoped this was just another peculiar High Farban formality.

"I have ordered a search of the Faro household," Jaikham announced after a moment. "If I find your brother there, Cassa Faro, gods be damned you'll have some explaining to do."