The Walk
I looked around. “Now why did I not anticipate that?”
Blitz said quite seriously, “Why would he leave?”
“The same reason you couldn’t stay with the carriage.” He was afraid. I gave even odds he and his horses ended up feeding the tunnel rats, both men and beast.
Sure enough, the sound of horses whinnying and men shouting echoed from the tunnel.
Blitz said, “So what now?”
“We walk.” I started towards the Hedge.
Blitz caught up to me. “How far is it? What about your foot?”
I retrieved my pistol from its calf holster. “My foot isn’t what you should be worrying about.”
“It’s not far,” Tim said. “A mile, maybe.”
The brightly-lit statue of the first Acevedo Spadros poked its head over the quadrant point’s Hedge behind us. “More like three. Come on.”
The streets in the Pot wer
