---
The underground market had already turned into a butcher house by the time Sekhmet arrived.
The lower tunnel opened into the battle chamber through a broken side arch, and the moment he stepped through it, the whole scene entered his eyes at once. Blood covered the stone floor in dark wet streaks. Bodies were everywhere. Some were already still. Some were still crawling, twitching, or trying to drag themselves toward walls that would not help them. Broken lantern light shook over crates, dead men, spilled knives, and the ugly movement of people who had passed the point where discipline remained pretty.
Raka was still alive.
That mattered first.
