"Sir..."

Micah swung around in his seat, growling with displeasure and held a finger to his lips, silencing the siofra.

"But Sir..."

"Shh," Micah reiterated, emphasising his frustration at the interruption.

The Siofra fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in time with the steady rhythm of the music played by the orchestra just below the stage. He impatiently waited for his boss to allow him to relay his urgent message. The music swelled to a crescendo as the final curtain fell in front of the actors bowing lowly on stage.

"What is it, Aiden?" Micah finally asked.

"I've heard a rumour in town that someone claiming to be the Deliverer has made an appearance."

Micah gave a short chuckle. "The Deliverer is nothing more than a legend, a myth born of lost hope."

"But Sir... The Guards said that she marched every one of the prisoners out of the cells and there was nothing either of them could do to stop her."

"Now why does that not surprise me? Those blithering idiots were probably sleeping on the job. Again. Is that all?"

"No Sir, Graeme was among the prisoners she led out."

Micah shot to his feet. "Graeme was to be executed on sight," he shouted, then realised he was in a public place and schooled his voice to a threatening low whisper. "Why is he still living? I can't afford to have him running around, he has too many supporters as it is."

"I...I," Aiden stuttered, cowering back against the door in fear.

"Never mind, it was a rhetorical question. At least tell me you know where they're headed."

Aiden nodded eagerly. "North."

Several seconds later, Micah released a huff of breath that came out as a growl. "North is a big area. Any chance you can narrow it down a little?"

"Em... Erm..." Aiden searched his memory for something, anything that would give a hint of where they were. "Oh, the bus! There was a bus stolen around the same time." Aiden reached behind him for the handle and pulled the door open so he could back out. "I'll put out a search for it."