Lysla led them into one of the structures, and into a room below the level of the street. "They'll search, but it'll take a while. Now I suppose we just wait."
Since there were no windows, the light Lysla turned on would not attract attention. Nevertheless, Vanning subconsciously felt the urge to remain in darkness.
He grinned mirthlessly. "I'm beginning to know how you feel, Callahan. Being a fugitive must be pretty tough."
Nobody answered.
The silence ran on and on interminably. Finally Sanderson broke it.
"We forgot one thing. No slaves are allowed on the streets tonight without a Swamja along."
"I didn't forget," Lysla said in a low voice. "There wasn't any other way."
"But we haven't a chance in the world to get through."
"I know that, too," the girl whispered. "But—" Abruptly she collapsed in a heap, her auburn curls shrouding her face. Under the red tunic her slim shoulders shook convulsively.
Sanderson took a deep breath. A wry smile twisted his mouth.