Both casts sped murderously true-not into the probably armored chests of the twobig men with swords (whose companion was now on his feet and falling in behindthem, perfectly and by-the-drill covering every move they made) but into theexposed neck and chest of Zip's own two men: no revolutionary could becaptured alive; everyone knew too much; they'd all signed suicide pacts inblood but, in this case. Zip knew he'd better help these two along. Rankaninterrogation could be very nasty.

Then as the rear man yelled, "Get the bastard," and the two in front lungedtoward him. Zip wheeled and dove for the tunnel entrance, down among the garbageand the rats, pulled the cobble-faced cover in place behind him, and shot thestout interior bolt.

Two days later, Hakiem was sitting on a bench in Promise Park-not one of hisaccustomed haunts.

He considered himself, as a storyteller, a neutral party in this war betweenRanke and the Harka Bey for control of Sanctuary. In his innermost heart hecouldn't help but take sides, though, and since his side was the side of theIlsigi, whose land this once was and whose sorrow he now shared, he'd gottenjust a little bit involved with helping the Revolution.

This was nothing new for Hakiem: he'd been a little involved with Jubal the exslaver, a little involved with Prince/Governor Kadakithis's Hell-Hounds... witheverything, if truth be known, that concerned his beloved, benighted town.

He kept telling himself that there was a good story in whatever it was heshouldn't be getting involved in. The Revolution, which might be the greateststory Sanctuary would ever offer him, was also the most dangerous. Involved init were Rankans and Ilsigs, fighting together- though some didn't know it andothers wouldn't admit it- against the heinous matriarchy of the Beysibs.