World in Chains- The Complete Series

by Ryan W. Mueller

  This time, Nadia believed him. She could see the pain behind his eyes when he spoke of this place. How could anyone see the savagery of the Prison City without wanting to change it? Perhaps the man had changed since the day he'd killed her mother.

  "Then you no longer support Warrick?" she asked.

  "I support protecting people in this place. I learned long ago that it's better not to worry too much about right and wrong when it comes to Warrick." He ran a hand through his beard once again. "That's part of the reason I became an Imperial Guard in the first place. I wanted to do the best I could for the people of the Empire."

  "But you didn't change anything."

  "I know that now," he said. "I learned quickly that even a commander has little power to change anything. Sure, I could keep my men in line, but in the end, Warrick was giving the orders. If I didn't carry them out, somebody else would have. That doesn't mean that everything I did was right. That doesn't excuse some of my actions. I know that."

  Again, Nadia believed he was telling the truth. It seemed as if he were releasing a burden he'd carried for a long time. She was surprised to find a little forgiveness in her heart.

  "I'm not sure I can ever forgive you," she said.

  "And I don't expect your forgiveness." He gestured toward a wardrobe at the other side of the room. "Now why don't we find you something better to wear? Everything in here will be too big for you, but it's better than walking around in just my surcoat."

  He pulled out some clothing from the wardrobe. It was too large for her. She'd have to roll up the pant legs and shirt sleeves, and she'd need a tight belt. He handed her the clothing, a simple tan tunic and matching pants.

  "I'll step outside while you change," he said.

  Nadia found herself appreciating that gesture. He'd already seen her naked, so he didn't have to do that. In truth, she never would have expected an Imperial Guard to be so courteous toward her—least of all the Imperial Guard who'd killed her mother.

  She changed quickly, then called him back inside. Though she had to look ridiculous in his oversized clothing, she was glad to be wearing something.

  "Before we go to the potion maker," he said, "I have to take you to meet someone else."

  "Who?"

  "You'll see."

  Nadia didn't have the energy to argue. She wouldn't survive in this place without Alten's protection, so she had to do whatever he wanted. A scary thought, but at least he didn't seem like someone who would take advantage of her. If he'd had cruel intentions, he would have shown them by now. No one was that good an actor.

  She followed him through the narrow streets of the Prison City. A few prisoners watched them, but no one threatened them. They seemed to fear Alten. Even at his side, however, Nadia didn't feel safe. If the prisoners chose to attack in great numbers, they could overwhelm him.

  Nadia and Alten walked a few streets away, then stopped before a rundown building. It was smaller than Alten's home, so small it could scarcely be called a home.

  Alten knocked on the door, and it opened about thirty seconds later. When Nadia saw the person who answered the door, her mouth fell open in shock. She had to rub her eyes. Though his beard had grown out a bit, there was no doubt.

  It was Garet.

  "Nadia!" he said breathlessly. "What're you doing here?"

  "I'm looking for a potion maker. I need him to heal Markus. How did you end up here?"

  "Well, after the Imperial Guards captured me in the sewers, they sent me here instead of executing me. They didn't even torture me, though it seemed like they wanted to. I think Warrick must've given them specific orders regarding me. Don’t know why."

  Nadia turned to Alten. "How did you know that I knew Garet?"

  "Warrick told me."

  But why would Warrick want Nadia to reunite with Garet? Why would he choose to spare Garet, just as he'd chosen not to kill Nadia and Markus? She was missing something, and she hated to think that Warrick was controlling her life.

  "You do know what we tried to do?" Nadia asked Alten. "Don't you?"

  "Yes, I know that you tried to kill Warrick."

  "And that doesn't bother you?" Nadia asked.

  "I'm not even sure I support Warrick anymore. I've seen too many horrible things to believe that he always has everyone's best interests in mind. I'd never actually try to kill him myself, even if I thought I might succeed, but I don't blame you for trying."

  "You're not at all what I expected from an Imperial Guard," Nadia said.

  "We're not all alike."

  Nadia knew that all too well. Once, she could have killed any Imperial Guard without a second thought, but now she'd seen good Imperial Guards. The world was more complicated than she'd once thought.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, Garet said, "Let's find this potion maker."

  Alten nodded his agreement, and they ventured deeper into the prison city, passing people who watched them warily. Nadia doubted she'd ever forget the images of this place. The dirt. The frayed clothing. The dead looks in everyone's eyes.

  "Are there other Imperial Guards here?" she asked. "You can't be alone."

  "No, I’m not alone," Alten said, keeping his eyes on their surroundings as they crossed a street covered in trash. "We've got a good contingent of Imperial Guards around here. There's even a garrison at the north side of the city."

  "Why don't you live there?" she asked. "Isn't it dangerous being on your own?"

  "I don't live in that small house most of the time. It's just a place where I've got some of my belongings. It was closer than the garrison, and I figured you wouldn't want to go there."

  She chuckled almost silently, knowing she couldn't argue with that.

  "We also have some of the prisoners acting as protectors around here. There are a few of 'em we can trust. People like Garet. It's not as lawless around here as it looks." He shook his head slowly. "Just wish Warrick would send a few more supplies our way. These people might be criminals and enemies of the Empire, but they don't deserve to starve."

  A few minutes later, they stopped before a building larger than most in the Prison City.

  "This is where the potion maker lives," Alten said.

  Nadia pulled the potion recipe from a pocket in her tunic, then knocked on the door. There was no answer. She waited awhile, then eased the door open. The room inside was dark and full of all kinds of junk. Strange smells hung in the air, both spicy and sulfurous, tickling her nostrils.

  She made her way through the cluttered room, taking care that she didn't knock anything over. Something was bubbling in the distance, and she thought she saw a shadow move. Her chest felt tight. She didn't like intruding upon the potion maker like this.

  When she reached the center of the room, she found a large cauldron in which some green liquid gave off a foul smell like rotten eggs. She gagged and pulled the collar of her tunic over her nose.

  "Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone here?"

  A door to her right opened, and a man stepped through it. She'd expected an old man, but he looked to be about forty years old, with long dark hair and a few days' growth of beard. His clothes were frayed and patched.

  "You need something?" he asked.

  "I need a potion to cure the man I love. Here's the recipe." She handed the book to him.

  He frowned as he examined the recipe. "This is an old one. He suffered from a snake bite if I'm not mistaken. This'll take me about a day to brew."

  "That's all right," Nadia said, though she'd hoped she might get out of here sooner. "How much is it going to cost me?"

  "Nothing. You're in need of a potion. I can make it for you. The knowledge that I've saved a life is payment enough."

  "Thank you," Nadia said. "You don't know how much this means to me."

  "Come back this time tomorrow. It'll be ready."

  Nadia thanked him again, then rejoined Alten and Garet outside. She told them how long it would take, and then they started back toward Alten's place. A
s they walked, Nadia couldn't help but notice that people were watching them. Her stomach churned.

  The arrow came out of nowhere.

  Nadia ducked when she felt it fly past her ear. When she looked up, the arrow was lodged in Alten's neck. He clutched at the arrow, eyes wide in shock, as blood flowed down his neck.

  "No, don't pull it out!" Nadia said, but the warning came too late. Alten yanked the arrow out of his neck, and his blood flowed more freely. He staggered a few steps, then hit the ground.

  A man approached from the right, holding a bow. "He shouldn't have killed my friend."

  The man turned away without another word.

  Garet bent low over Alten, applying pressure to his neck, but it was a losing battle. There was only one chance. She raced back into the potion maker's shop, finding him working on her potion already.

  "You need something else?" he asked.

  "Some kind of healing potion. Something for blood loss."

  "I'm sorry. I don't have anything prepared."

  By the time Nadia returned to Alten, he was dead, so the potion wouldn't have mattered. Nadia stared at his body in horrified silence. She'd felt no real connection to him as a person, though she did appreciate what he'd done for her.

  But now she was in real trouble. Without Alten, she had no way of escaping the Prison City. None of the Imperial Guards would believe that she wasn't a prisoner.

  She turned to Garet. "Any idea how we might escape this place?"

  "I've been trying for weeks. I've got nothing."

  Chapter 44: Prison Break

  Ander paced in the common room of the Taylorville inn where they'd taken up residence. He couldn't sit around here and hope for news of Nadia. He'd always been a man of action, and that wasn't going to change now.

  "Nadia has to be in the Prison City," he said.

  Mara poked at a bowl of oatmeal. "How can you be sure?"

  "I can't be sure, but it makes sense. We have to get inside."

  "You want us to break into the Empire's most secure prison?" Dave asked. "I'm not sure this is what I meant to do when I joined you. I want a chance to defeat Warrick. While I liked Nadia, I don't know if she's worth this much risk."

  "She is," Ander said. "Cyrus wouldn't have mentioned her if she didn't still have a role to play. This is something much bigger than any of us. I might hate the idea of being controlled by the Webs of Fate, but I can't deny that we're all playing roles of a sort."

  Captain Davis swallowed a mouthful of bacon. "I agree. We need to help her."

  "But we still don't know if she's inside," Mara said.

  "Where else would she be?" Ander asked. "Tomorrow is the day that Cyrus said we needed to be here to help her in the Prison City. She has to be there. He wouldn't have told us if there was doubt about that."

  Ander was surprised at the confidence in his voice. Perhaps Dave's lessons in leadership had taken hold, or perhaps Ander had reclaimed the person he'd once been.

  "As far as I'm concerned, it's settled," said Captain Davis. "We're going in."

  Dave nodded. "All right. But how're we getting in? We need a plan."

  "I have an idea," Ander said, "but it's a bit insane." When no one interrupted, he went on in a low voice. "The only people who can get into the Prison City are Imperial Guards, so what we have to do is steal some Imperial Guard uniforms."

  Dave chuckled. "Oh, is that all?"

  "I figure the captain and I can pose as Imperial Guards. The two of you can pose as prisoners we're taking into the Prison City. I mean no offense to either of you, but you wouldn't pass for Imperial Guards. Imperial Guards wear beards, but not beards quite as wild as yours, Dave. And there are no women among the Imperial Guard ranks."

  "I understand," Mara said.

  "As do I," Dave said. "I'm fond of my beard, so I'd rather not trim it."

  "How're we gonna steal Imperial Guard uniforms?" asked Captain Davis.

  "We'll break into their garrison," Ander said. "I have my magic, and you're good with a blade." He turned to Mara and Dave. "I don't think we should bring anyone besides the two of us. The captain and I have worked together for the Order, so I think it would be best if we went together. It's not that I don't trust you. I just haven't worked with you enough."

  "Don't worry," Dave said. "We understand."

  Ander and Captain Davis prepared for their operation that night. They scouted the location, making note of anything they might use as an entry point, observing how many Imperial Guards patrolled the place. Ander felt as if he'd returned to his days with the Order. They'd rarely done anything this daring, though.

  Night fell before Ander felt ready. They waited until the early hours of the morning, then made their way from the inn to the garrison, which stood against the wall that separated the Prison City from the rest of Taylorville. Imperial Guards patrolled atop that wall.

  That was where Ander and Captain Davis had to go. From there, they could enter the garrison through the roof access, avoiding the crowded common room. Most Imperial Guard garrisons had similar designs, so Ander wasn't too worried.

  They hid behind some bushes, waiting for their opportunity. Shortly before two in the morning, the Imperial Guard patrolling atop the tower climbed down the steps leading back toward the garrison. He disappeared behind a stone wall, but Ander was sure he'd entered the garrison through the roof access.

  "This is our chance," he whispered to Captain Davis. "I think that Imperial Guard ended his patrol a little early. We should have a few minutes. I hope."

  The captain nodded. Tonight, he didn't wear anything resembling his usual guard uniform. His clothes were light and loose and so dark they blended in with the night. Ander wore similar clothing, much like he had during operations with the Order.

  Keeping low, they made their way toward the ladder leading up to the wall. They climbed the ladder and followed the path the patrolling guard had taken. Ander's heart pounded the whole time, and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. He'd faced a lot of dangerous situations recently, but nothing triggered his anxiety like a stealth operation.

  There was a trapdoor at the top of the garrison. Ander's heart climbed into his throat as he carefully pried the door open. He held his staff ready, praying he wouldn't have to use it.

  The room below the trapdoor was empty, and they made their way down the ladder toward a spiraling tower. They followed the stairs down, remaining alert for any sounds.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they reached a wooden door. Ander put his ear to the door. Light footsteps came from beyond, growing closer. Ander glanced around in panic, finding a small alcove filled with barrels. He and the captain ducked behind them.

  A moment later, the door opened, and the Imperial Guard passed without sparing a second glance at the barrels. Ander waited until he heard the click of the trapdoor, and then they left their hiding spot. He listened at the door again. No sound this time.

  A breath later, he eased the door open. The corridor beyond was deserted. Torches cast flickering orange light against the walls, and every dancing shadow made Ander nervous.

  "Where now?" whispered Captain Davis.

  "I'm not sure. They'll probably keep their extra uniforms somewhere beneath the main level, but I don't know which door to take." He pressed his ear to the nearest door and heard snoring on the other side. "Not this one."

  He did that a few more times, hearing snoring behind each door. His chest felt tight. What if the uniforms weren't where he thought they'd be?

  No. He had to calm down. This situation was under control.

  At last, after checking six doors, he found one behind which he didn't hear snoring. He pushed the door open, revealing a dark and empty chamber beyond. At the corner of the chamber, stairs led downward. Ander entered the room, the captain following close behind.

  When they reached the stairs, Ander heard footsteps. They looked for something to hide behind, but the chamber was empty. There wasn't enough time to head back to the corridor,
and even if they did, they wouldn't find anywhere to hide.

  Ander pulled a dagger from his belt. He didn't want to use it. For one thing, he knew that there were decent Imperial Guards out there. But even more importantly, a dead Imperial Guard would let them know someone had been here. There had to be another way.

  Then it came to him.

  The Imperial Guard's steps were growing closer as he ascended the stairs. A few steps before he reached the top, Ander stepped into view. The Imperial Guard didn't have a chance to call out before Ander sent a blast of wind at him. The wind from Ander's staff sent the Imperial Guard flying backward. He gave a sort of strangled yell, but it wasn't very loud.

  The man tumbled backward down the stairs, grunting at each impact. He slammed his head against the stone floor a few times, then finally fell still at the bottom of the steps.

  "They're gonna find him," said Captain Davis.

  "Don’t worry. I have a plan. Imperial Guards always keep their ale down beneath the garrison. It's cooler down there, so it keeps better. All we have to do is find some, and then we can make it look like he got drunk and fell down the stairs."

  Captain Davis frowned. "I suppose it could work."

  They proceeded down the steps. To their left was a storage room. Ander rummaged through a few barrels, where he found large bottles of ale. He took a few and returned to where the Imperial Guard lay. When he placed a hand against the man's neck, he felt no pulse.

  "Guess the fall killed him." Ander should have felt some remorse, but he didn't. Even if some Imperial Guards were decent, that didn't excuse the fact that they supported an evil ruler. This was war, and there had to be casualties.

  Ander poured some ale into the man's mouth, then left the empty bottles sitting on a crate nearby. A bunch of ale ended up on the floor, but Ander didn't need to get it into his stomach. He just needed the smell of alcohol to be in the man's mouth. For the finishing touches, Ander smashed one bottle of the ale halfway down the stairs so it looked like the man had dropped it as he was falling.

  Leaving the dead man where he was, they continued deeper into the cellar beneath the garrison. They checked each room and listened intently for footsteps. After a while, it appeared that the man they'd killed was the only guard down here.