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Instead of immediately entering, K’Nar hesitated, turning back to them with an expression she'd never seen on his typically composed face—a mixture of resolve and fear that made her heart stutter.

"I should separate from you here," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Create a distraction. Send the guards away from you.”

"What? No," Linnea protested, though she kept her voice hushed. "We stay together."

K’Nar shook his head. "I can send any pursuers in the opposite direction while you escape. Two fugitives are easier to hide than three, especially when one is..." he glanced at Zexx's unmistakable form, "...so distinctive."

She hesitated, torn between the tactical sense of his plan and her concern for his safety. K’Nar had been her adjunct for as long as she’d been in power, a steady, reliable presence through the most tumultuous periods of her leadership. He’d been seen with them, which meant he might be treated as a traitor. The thought of leaving him to face their pursuers alone made her stomach twist with anxiety.

"They'll suspect you helped us," she said.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Let them suspect. I've been playing this game longer than you've been chancellor, my lady. I know how to appear loyal while serving other masters."

The sound of footsteps and voices grew louder above them. They had moments, no longer, to decide.

"Take this," K’Nar said, unfastening his cloak and handing it to Zexx. "It won't disguise you completely, but it might help in the shadows."

Zexx accepted the garment with a solemn nod, a wordless exchange of respect passing between the two.

"Go," K’Nar urged, already turning toward the ramp. "I'll find you when it's safe."

Linnea's throat tightened as she watched him straighten his clothing, smooth his expression into its usual bland efficiency, and stride purposefully back toward the main corridor. She hoped with every fiber of her being that it wouldn't be the last time she saw the trusted adjunct who’d become her friend.

"Come on,” she whispered to Zexx, pulling him into the tunnel as the wall slid shut behind them.

The passage was dark and damp, the air stale with the musty scent of age and disuse. She led the way, grateful that her earlier journey through these tunnels with K’Nar had given her at least a basic familiarity with their layout. He’d insisted they move through the secret passages to stay hidden as long as possible, and now she was grateful. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared it might echo off the stone walls as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors, turning left, then right, then left again.

"Where are we going?" Zexx asked, his voice a low rumble behind her.

"Somewhere they won't think to look for us," she replied, feeling her way along the wall as the passage grew darker. "Somewhere beneath their notice."

They continued in silence, the only sounds their breathing and the occasional distant drip of water. The chill of the underground seeped through her robes, raising bumps on her skin despite the heat of exertion.

After what felt like ages, a new scent began to permeate the stale air—the warm, yeasty aroma of freshly baked bread mingling with the savory smell of grilled meat and spices. The kitchens. They were approaching the vast underground complex where meals for the entire governmental tower were prepared, where dozens of staff worked from before dawn until late into the night.

The passage widened, branching off in several directions. Linnea paused, orienting herself by the increasing strength of the kitchen smells, then chose the rightmost tunnel. Light began to filter in from somewhere ahead, and the sounds of activity grew more distinct—metal clanging against metal, voices calling orders, the hiss of steam.

They emerged behind a stairwell and stepped into a dimly lit corridor lined with storage rooms, just beyond the bustling kitchens. She pulled Zexx into the shadow of a large storage rack as a group of workers passed, carrying trays laden with food destined for the upper levels.

As the corridor emptied again, she spotted a familiar figure—Zelia, the young attendant who had warned her about the protest that morning, the one who’d first given her idea to bring Zexx to the city, emerging from the kitchen with a tray.

“Zelia," she called softly, stepping just far enough into the light for the young woman to see her.

She startled, nearly dropping the tray before recognition dawned in her eyes. Then fear replaced surprise as she glanced nervously between Linnea and Zexx, who remained partially concealed in the shadows.

"Chancellor," she whispered, quickly setting down the tray and hurrying over. "They're looking for you everywhere. The guards, they're saying—" She broke off, clearly afraid to repeat whatever rumors were circulating.

"You were right about the dangers," Linnea said, keeping her voice low. "About whom I could trust. Now I need your help again. We need a place to hide, just until nightfall."

Zelia bit her lower lip, glancing over her shoulder toward the busy kitchen. For a moment, Linnea feared she would refuse, that perhaps her trust was misplaced once again. Then the young woman gave a short, decisive nod.

"Follow me," she said. "Quickly, before someone comes."

She led them down a different corridor, this one narrower and more poorly lit than the first. The stone walls here were rougher, the floor uneven beneath their feet. They ascended a short flight of stairs, the air growing warmer and stuffier when Zelia opened a door and led them through it.

"The staff quarters," Zelia explained in a hushed voice. "No one important ever comes down here."

The corridor opened into a warren of small rooms, most with doors closed. From behind some came the sounds of snoring—no doubt night-shift workers sleeping through the day. Zelia stopped before a door near the end of the hall, glancing around once more before pushing it open.