ground with a groan. "I can't do the wall, Raz. I can barely stand upright. What's wrong with me? I've never felt like this before, and it won't go away."
Tears stung Raz's eyes. "It will never go away," he said, choking on the words. "It's happening because you're a Vessel, Pechal. It won't stop until they—they—" He couldn't say the words, he just couldn’t.
Pechal's head snapped up, and Raz saw the horrified comprehension fill his eyes. Pechal began to cry. "I'm not! I'm not! You can't let them—Raz—"
"I won't," Raz said, and he bent to pull Pechal to his feet. He hugged Pechal tightly and drew back enough to press a quick, reassuring kiss to his mouth. "I won't let them kill you, Pechal, I promise." Pechal just trembled against him, and Raz bit back his frustration and despair. Panicking would not help anything; he needed to think.
They definitely could not go down the wall, which meant they would have to find another way out of the cathedral. As much as he preferred the street rat method of 'hide!' that just would not work. Their only chance was to get out of the city, and quite possibly out of the country—but that would take more money than they had at present. He needed to get Pechal somewhere he could hide long enough for Raz to obtain the money. He would also have to arrange passage, which would be easier said than done since there weren't many passenger ships and even fewer trading vessels willing to take on passengers.
Biting his lip, he put that worry aside for the far more immediate problem of getting them out of the cathedral. "You're supposed to be safe, you scorching pile of rocks," he muttered. "Come on, Pechal. If we can get down to the kitchens we can slip out that way. Just stay strong for a little while, all right? For me."
"For you," Pechal whispered and pushed away to stand on his own.
Slowly, far too slowly for Raz's peace of mind, they made their way through the attic levels and down to the bedrooms. It seemed to take three times as long to reach the mezzanine level, and Raz had to grit his teeth against an urge to scream, grab Pechal, and run.
He let out a sigh when they finally reached the bottom of the back stairs and saw the door to the kitchen at the end of the hall. "Come on, Pechal," he said softly, taking Pechal's hand and holding it tightly.
They'd made it halfway down the hall when their luck was finally snuffed, and the doors that led to the sanctuary burst open, the hall filling with four guards and the cold-looking Duke of Alkaev. His eyes glowed brilliant gold as he stared at them. "The Vessel," he said, eyes fastening on Pechal, and he motioned the guards forward.
"No!" Raz bellowed and tried to make a run for it—but only wound up falling to his knees, suddenly too weak to move. "No!" he said again as the guards grabbed Pechal and carried him away. "Let him go!" he screamed and barely noticed when the guard abruptly released him.
He ran, following the guards who had Pechal, barely noticing that the Duke of Alkaev stood motionless as Raz raced by him.
Someone else tried to grab him, and Raz swung, fist slamming into the priest's nose. Shoving him aside, Raz kept running, knocking four more priests and a guard out of his way before he finally burst through the door that led to the altar.
"Pechal!" he screamed, seeing him kneeling at the altar, right at the top of the steps that led down from it. Racing toward him, shoving and knocking aside anyone who got in his way, Raz ran up to Pechal, grabbed him, yanked him back—
—And froze when someone abruptly appeared in front of him. Raz looked up into eyes the color of smoke that glowed ever so faintly with magic; they were set in a sharp, handsome face framed by close-cropped, wispy black hair. A face Raz would swear he had seen before. A face that, for no explicable reason, made him start crying.
The man's face went white while he stared at Raz, and for some reason that just upset Raz more. He tried to speak, but