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The question made Jason pause. Drake had rescued him. They could run away. “Will there ever be a better opportunity?” Jason asked.

“To get in front of Maldor?” Drake verified. “The emperor no longer leaves Felrook. The only sure way to gain an audience with him is to ring the gong near the gate to the ferry. By imperial decree anyone can ring it and talk to the emperor. In practice nobody ever touches it. Guards protect it, and everyone understands that while ringing the gong guarantees an audience with Maldor, it provides no assurances regarding the consequences of that audience.”

“So what do we do?” Jason asked.

“We leave now,” Drake said. “We get to the ferry before sunrise. I’ll create an opportunity, and you’ll ring the gong.”

Jason realized that unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life running from agents of the emperor, he had to finish this. Drake seemed committed and able. Here was a real chance to succeed where so many others had failed. If the gong would grant an audience with Maldor, he could fulfill his mission and maybe move on with his life.

“Let’s go,” Jason said.

Outside the wall protecting the ferry was a town considerably bigger than it had looked from afar. Drake and Jason rode into town before sunrise, both wearing clothing and armor taken from the fallen soldiers. Drake carried a bow and a quiver of twelve arrows. Jason had recovered his poniard, along with a regular sword and a crossbow. They passed numerous stables, several warehouses, various inns, diverse shops, and multiple garrisons.

After tying up their horses, Drake led Jason down a series of alleyways. From the shadowy shelter of an alley Drake indicated a roofed platform accessible by stairs on three sides. Sheltered by the roof, hardly visible despite the burning cressets nearby, the round shape of a large gong dangled from a crossbeam. Beside it hung a mallet on a chain. Jason counted four guards.

“I’ll climb onto the roof of that building across the street,” Drake said. “You’ll make your way to that shed over there.” He pointed.

“I see it,” Jason said.

“I’ll make my presence known by loosing arrows. Once I get started, you run for the gong and ring it loudly. I’ll ensure you get there.”

“What will you do afterward?” Jason asked.

“Try to get away,” Drake said. “My chances are poor. But as long as you ring that gong, and then say the Word when the time comes, it will be well worth the sacrifice. I’ve been waiting for this, Jason. I’m not sure I knew I was waiting, but I was. We should move before it gets any lighter. Ready?”

“Okay.”

Drake strolled across the street. Following his example, Jason wandered casually down the road to the shed. From the shed he would be able to approach the platform from the side while Drake shot arrows at the front.

Once he reached the shed, Jason kept out of view from the gong guards while watching the roof. Just as he was wondering why Drake was taking so long, he heard a strangled cry, and a guard toppled down the platform steps.

Jason broke from cover and rushed toward the platform. Guards were shouting and motioning at the roof, then dropping with arrows in them. Another pair of guards issued from a small building on the far side of the platform.

As Jason reached the base of the steps leading up to the gong, only one guard remained on the platform. He had taken cover behind a thick post holding up the roof. When he saw Jason charging up the steps, he emerged from his position, sword in hand, and an arrow instantly pierced his side.

Lunging up the steps two at a time, Jason reached the mallet, grabbed the handle, and smashed the head into the gong like he was swinging a baseball bat. The long, shimmering crash hurt his ears, but he wailed the gong again, and again, figuring the more times he hit it, the less room there would be for argument.

“Enough!” called a guard, one of the two who had emerged from the guardhouse, and the only one without an arrow in him. He stood at the foot of the steps in front of the platform.

“I wanted to make sure,” Jason explained, wondering if Drake