“If you slip and fall to your death, try to crash down in a way that won’t leave those spiky bracers pointing up for me to land on.”
“I’ll keep your request in mind.” He climbed into one of the holes, grunting as flesh smacked against stone.
Cas waited for the curses, scrapes, and bumps to fade away before she stuck the pouch of throwing stars into her mouth and climbed onto the shelf. She almost left the rifle there, but thought she could make something of a lap as she descended, her legs out and her back against the wall, and keep it from falling. She thought about waiting long enough for him to climb down the entire eighty feet, so that if she fell—or dropped the rifle—she wouldn’t knock him loose, but there had to be guards searching in the ruins by now. She imagined one running in, looking down, and shooting her while she was helpless. She didn’t want to die in some latrine drainage shaft.
With that cheery thought, she lowered herself into the hole, pressing her back against one side and her legs against the other. She lowered one hand, then the other, from the rim of the hole and placed them on the walls to either side.
“A promising start,” she murmured when she didn’t slip, then inched her way downward.
It didn’t take long for her to find the slick spots Tolemek had mentioned. When that happened, she slipped inches—or feet—before catching herself on coarser material. Each time, her heart tried to leap out of her chest, doubtlessly searching for a less insane place to reside. She almost lost the rifle a couple of times too. Tolemek would not be pleased if it cracked him on the head, but maybe those thick ropes of hair would offer padding.
Without being able to see a thing in the blackness, it was hard to judge how far she had gone, but she guessed she was halfway down when her butt bumped into something. That gave her heart another jolt. It turned out to be a bend in the shaft. The passage curved in one direction before returning to vertical, and maneuvering past the hump, which was slick of course, was scarier than her first time upside down in a flier had been. At least she didn’t pee on herself—a couple of her classmates at the academy had done that on some of their early flights. Although, if one were to have such an accident, this would be the natural place for it, she supposed.
“Ahn?” a soft call came from below.
She had lost track of time, so it surprised her. “Yeah?” she asked around the pouch of throwing stars, her voice as tense as the rest of her body.
“I’m on the ground. We made it.” Tolemek sounded like he was about ten feet down and standing right under the hole. Lucky for him that she had managed to keep bodily functions under control.
“Are your bracers out of the way?” she asked.
“Yes.” He sounded amused. Maybe deep down, pirates knew their wardrobes were silly.
Cas’s heart got one more jolt when she ran out of wall to brace herself against, and one of her feet slipped, dangling into emptiness. Her hands pressed against the side walls like immovable anchors. She didn’t say anything, but Tolemek must have heard her suck in an alarmed breath, for his hand came up to touch her leg. “You’ve got a seven- or eight-foot drop, and then it’s flat down here.”
She didn’t want to admit that his touch reassured her, but since she couldn’t see a thing, it did. She let herself drop, twisting in the air to land facing him and grabbing him as she fell—just in case he was on a ledge and there happened to be another hundred-foot drop for the foolish girl who missed it. Her feet landed on solid stone. She released a long, relieved breath.
“Are you trying to undress me?” Tolemek asked mildly. She had a death grip on his vest, her fingers clenched in the thick hide, and he was probably missing a few chest hairs too. “Or just admiring the feel of my clothing?”
As soon as he spoke, Cas released him and took a step back, glad for the darkness. An embarrassed blush heated her cheeks. She pulled the pouch out of her mouth and strove for a nonchalant response. “It is an upgrade to what they gave me to wear.”
Fortunately, he didn’t make any more jokes about her grabbing him—or mention that he’d noticed that the climb down had scared her. “Getting out should be easy from here,” he said, turning away from her. “This way.”
Cas followed him down a new passage, this one with water trickling down the middle—water that didn’t smell all that fresh—and was relieved when a warm breeze touched her cheeks. Finally.
They turned around a bend, and the blackness faded to gray, the bumpy green walls growing visible. The end of a tunnel came into view beyond a grid of rusted iron bars. The alarm gongs were audible again, and Cas wondered how many guards would be out there, searching for the escaped prisoners.
“You have any more of that metal-burning goo?” she murmured as they walked toward the bars.
“No, but I already applied it.” Tolemek strode toward the grate. “Last night, when I was hoping I could get into the ruins without having to deal with the dungeon or its guards.”
That meant Cas never would have met him—and would still be in her cell—if not for a thousand-year-old latrine. Fate was a capricious spirit.
Tolemek lifted a hand to stop her and dropped into a crouch near the wall. They were still twenty feet from the bars but close enough that she could see hinges, identifying it as a gate, and a shiny new steel lock securing it.
“Looks like someone noticed your sabotage,” Cas said.
“Annoyingly efficient of them.”
The sounds of foliage being snapped and trampled drifted in from outside. Someone in a uniform jogged past the entrance. The figure glanced in their direction, but continued on without pausing to peer more closely. Glad for the shadows, Cas reached in her pouch for another throwing star. She still had the rifle as well, but if they could slip past the guards without making any noise, they would have more time to escape into the jungle. Then again, if they were forced to engage in a skirmish out there, that might be her opportunity to slip away from her pirate, especially if the guards, considering him more dangerous, focused on him. Once she was on the other side of those bars, she could find her own way home.
“Anything left in your little pouch that can handle locks? Or iron bars?” Cas asked.
“Unfortunately not. We’ll have to try another exit. There are others.”
Cas shifted from foot to foot. The jungle called to her. Out there, in the night, she could hide. Here, they were simply waiting to be discovered. “I can shoot the lock off.”
The lock was shiny and new, but so were her bullets.
“Guns don’t solve every problem,” Tolemek said, heading for the interior again. “And making noise will tell them where we are.”
It would tell them where he was. If the guards spotted him, they might forget to worry about her, at least for a few moments. That was all she needed.
Tolemek had no more than stepped past her when Cas lifted the rifle. She fired three rounds at the lock shank from far enough away that the bullets shouldn’t hit her if they ricocheted off. But the lock lost the war early on and clanked to the ground. Cas walked up to the gate, gave it a shove, and it squealed open.
“Guns do solve a lot of problems.” She smiled at Tolemek as he ran back to join her.
“The guards will have heard that.”
Cas loaded bullets to replace those she had used. “I expected another fight before getting out of here.” With the guards... or with him. One or the other.
She started forward, intending to use the mouth of the tunnel for cover and to shoot anyone who ran their way. But Tolemek gripped her arm, stopping her.
Shouts of, “Over there,” and, “The drainage tunnel,” accompanied the crashing of foliage.
“What’re you doing?” Cas demanded.
“I have one more tool to use.” Tolemek opened his palm, revealing a leather-wrapped ball.
“Uh?”
He pulled her back through the gate and into the shadows of the tunnel. She was tempted to yank free and fight her own battle—the jungle foliage wasn’t mo
re than a hundred meters away, so if she could subdue the guards in sight, she ought to be able to sprint out there to it... but Tolemek’s grip was firm, and he could probably sling her over his shoulder without much trouble. She went along with him. She could shoot from the back of the tunnel if she had to.
“Down,” he whispered, crouching again.
A second later, the first guard came into the sight, a dark outline against the jungle. Cas melted to the ground, making herself a small target, and lifted the rifle to aim.
“Wait,” Tolemek breathed in her ear.
Two more guards came into view, one holding a lantern, both armed. Cas’s finger tightened on the trigger. They might not be able to see her and Tolemek in the deep shadows, but if they started firing into the tunnel, they were bound to hit them.
“They go in? Or run out?”
“They must have come from in there and run out.”
A soft rustle of clothing came from behind Cas. The little leather ball flew through the gate, bounced on the ground, and came to rest between the men. Its sides unfurled like flower petals, and some sort of smoke oozed out.
“What is that thing?”
One of the guards shot at the ball, which was inches from another man’s foot. Everyone jumped back. The unfurled ball seemed undamaged; if anything it spewed more smoke.
“You boys all right down there?” someone asked from the side.
“I...” The guard who had fired—and doubtlessly caught a big whiff of the smoke—grabbed his forehead and stumbled backward. The next closest man simply pitched to the ground. The third soon followed.
Cas thought she heard a couple of thumps from near the tunnel exit too. How potent was that smoke? She couldn’t smell anything in the tunnel, but it had to have a decent range.
“Poison?” she whispered, her stomach queasy at the thought. Yes, she would have shot the guards with the rifle, but somehow this seemed more diabolical.
“Not exactly.” Tolemek rose and trotted to the exit. He leaned out and scanned the surroundings to either side before waving for Cas to join him.
She was already on her way, though she held her breath as she drew closer. Just in case.
Tolemek headed straight across the clearing around the base of the fortress toward a vine-draped trail that disappeared into the dark jungle. Cas paused to touch the throat of the first man who had fallen, checking for a pulse. Surprisingly, it was there, beating normally. Aware of the alarm gongs and more shouts in the distance, she ran for the foliage too.
She thought to veer off in a different direction, to find another trail into the jungle, but Tolemek had stopped to wait for her. Was he being thoughtful? Or did he want to make sure he didn’t lose her for his own reasons? The latter seemed more likely. But as thick and dense as the vegetation was, she ought to be able to slip away at any point along the trail once they entered the jungle.
“You made them fall asleep?” Cas wondered, noting that he hadn’t killed anyone in their entire escape. She couldn’t make that same claim.
“They’re unconscious. They shouldn’t wake up for a half hour to an hour, depending on how much they inhaled.” Tolemek looked like he might take her arm, but he stopped himself and simply pointed toward the dark jungle. “More will be coming.”
“Right.” Cas strode down the path, glancing back before they left the clearing. Dragon Spit leered down from atop its rocky precipice, rock that wasn’t as solid as she had assumed when her cage on wheels had been hauled up the winding road to the top earlier that day. That road and the entire above-ground complex were lit by lights now, dozens of yellow dots against the night. There had to be a lot more guards out there searching.
She and Tolemek slipped into the jungle. Though the main road meandered along the rocky coast, that would doubtlessly be watched. Their trail seemed to parallel the coast, but it was difficult to be certain. Even though it seemed to be regularly used, vines and large leaves hung low, and they had to duck often. Branches scraped at Cas’s bare shins, and once again, she lamented the shapeless canvas smock she had been forced to don. The shoes—more like moccasins—had soles like paper, and she felt every root and rock on the trail. When she wasn’t tripping over something, she was stepping into mud that kicked up, spattering her legs.
The monkeys had fallen silent, but numerous large creatures shifted and rattled the leaves as they passed. A tiger or panther roared in the distance. Even though the jungle didn’t sound like a friendly place for a solo traveler, Cas would rather face it than a ship full of pirates.
The trail split, and she saw her chance. Tolemek veered toward the left. Cas would take the right.
She hadn’t taken more than a single step in that direction when dark shadows oozed out of the foliage. She barely managed to keep from yelping with surprise when someone appeared right in front of her, blocking her route. She whipped her rifle up, but someone grabbed her from behind. She tried to jerk away, to back into the brush so she would have more space to shoot, but the firearm was torn from her grip. She dipped her hand toward the pouch of throwing stars, but the man behind her caught both of her arms before she could grasp a weapon. She stomped down on his foot, but he was wearing boots, and her pathetic cloth shoes lent nothing to the power of her heel.
Lanterns snapped open, and yellow light filled the pathway. Scarred, bearded faces full of missing or dead, brown teeth leered at her. Tattooed arms were wrapped about her body, restraining her—and squeezing all of the air out of her lungs. All manner of pistols and daggers were being waved about, more than one pointing in her direction. Cas’s first ludicrous thought was that these were some savage jungle nomads or bandits who scraped out a living by preying on those who dared walk these paths, but she realized the truth as soon as she spotted Tolemek. He was standing, his hands on his hips, next to a gray-haired man wearing an Iskandian general’s gold-braided hat, a spyglass on a thong around his neck, and a breastplate made of human finger bones. There were stories of cannibalism among some of the pirate clans, but they were just stories. Weren’t they?
“I wasn’t expecting you, Captain,” Tolemek said as calmly as if everyone had shown up to smoke and play cards together. He looked at Cas and waved to the hulking man holding her. The death grip around her torso loosened slightly, though she still couldn’t have slipped a hand down to those throwing stars. At least the pirates had only taken her rifle so far. Maybe she could still find an opportunity to escape.
“We were planning to while away the evening in the tavern, conducting a few repairs, and dodging a few lawmen,” the gray-haired man said, tapping his spyglass against the breastplate in a soft clink-thunk pattern. Was this Captain Slaughter? If so, he was one of the most powerful among the Roaming Curse, and perhaps the most infamous. “But some soldiers came by and were bragging about how they’d so daringly and cunningly captured you and that the commandant was going to torture you ceaselessly. I grew worried about you.” He flashed a grin—his teeth weren’t quite so poorly cared for as many of the ones in the other pirates’ mouths. “And my next batch of projectile naphtha you promised.”
“Your concern is touching,” Tolemek said drily.
Dry tone or not, when the captain thumped him on the shoulder, Tolemek shared the man’s smile. Cas didn’t like the easy camaraderie she sensed between the two. With her, Tolemek had seemed normal. Even solicitous. Oh, she was sure he had been using her all along, but, reputation or not, he hadn’t seemed like some vile monster. That might change now that he was back among his pirate brethren. Damn, she wished she had veered into the jungle just a few seconds sooner. She might have watched this reunion from some nearby treetop and then sped off before anyone caught her.
“It seems you escaped on your own,” the captain said. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
Several of the men nodded and chuckled.
“But this isn’t quite what I thought you were searching for.” The captain extended a hand toward Cas.
“No,” Toleme
k said.
She caught his eyes—or maybe he was studying her at that moment anyway—and silently implored him to keep quiet about who she was. Or even to let her go. Did he have that kind of sway? Or were all decisions in regard to prisoners left to the captain?
“She someone special?” the captain asked. “Or were you just feeling randy tonight?”
That drew snorts and more chuckles.
“She ain’t much to look at,” the man standing in front of Cas said. Yeah? Who was he to talk? How could he even chew his dinner with those teeth? “Not with all them bruises. Her whole face looks like someone used it for a punching bag. There’s some girls in town who—er...” The pirate’s expression grew nervous, almost contrite, when he glanced at Tolemek.
“Wouldn’t be afraid to sleep with the Deathmaker?” The captain smirked.
“I don’t know,” Brown Teeth said. “I mean, I haven’t asked. I figure he’s purty enough, but I ain’t a girl, so I don’t know if’n... uhm...” The man clasped his hands behind his back, apparently deciding he had shot enough holes in his flier.
The captain smacked Tolemek on the chest. “Darts just called you pretty. If the girl doesn’t entertain you tonight, I think you’ve got a backup invitation.”
“Coming up behind us,” someone called softly from ten meters back down the trail.
“Shutter those lanterns, boys,” the captain said, pulling a pistol from his belt. “Target practice coming.”
Cas caught a grimace on Tolemek’s face before the lights disappeared. Her captor—she had yet to see the man’s face, but he had the meaty arms of a smith and the breath of a dead fish—dragged her a couple of steps into the foliage. After the light, it took her eyes a moment to adjust, and she wasn’t the first to see the figures jogging up the path toward them. Three guards. It was too dark to make out their uniforms, but who else would be searching the jungle at night?
At some unspoken signal, several pistols fired at once.
Two guards crumpled immediately. The rearmost one cried out in pain and tried to run. More pistols fired, hammering him in the back. He toppled into the brush beside the trail.
The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3 Page 28