108

The hunting party travels north through the twists and turns of Bouchard's underground domain, and before long you're feeling somewhat lost, despite the many years you've spent in your own small portion of the sewer system. The dark, grime-covered brick of the main channel is met at regular intervals by newer concrete pipes of varying sizes, and from time to time the larger passage branches to the left or right in three- or four-way intersections. You discreetly send Uuntezazk down one of the smaller side branches to scout ahead.

You trudge forward for what feels like at least half an hour, resolutely avoiding the smell of the upward-wafting stench as two dozen pairs of feet stir up mixed waste products best kept from your imagination.

From the front of the hunting party, Qui holds up a warning hand. "We're almost under Parliament Hill," he whispers, looking to Bouchard. "You said that's where your associates found them?"

Bouchard nods. "We'll stay here while I send my scouts ahead." He gestures to two smaller adjoining tunnels to the left and right which both slowly snake upward toward the surface. Slow trickles of watery filth flow down them to collectively meet in the larger passage. "We wait in the tributaries to either side until they return. If any of our unwelcome guests wish to travel south, they'll pass through here and we can take them from behind, unseen."

The Kindred split their group into equal numbers on each side and Qui's mortal mercenaries do the same, their chitinous black body armor blending in with the shadows as they silently eye the central tunnel, fingering their weapons with nervous excitement.

"I was thinking of asking Bouchard if I could sneak ahead along with his scouts," Jordan whispers. "We're both just as good at covering our movements as they are."