Dragon-Ridden (24 page)

Tate tried not to react. Don’t
antagonize him. It’s not worth it. Just breathe, just breathe. It was difficult
to stay still when every bone in her body screamed in protest. Knowing acting
out would get them killed didn’t make it any easier to control herself when the
blood was roaring.

She fantasized about how easy it
would be to grab a sensitive piece of flesh on this man’s body and twist. If
she got a good enough handhold she could probably rip it right off. A woman
would have no use for him then.

Dewdrop’s soft gasp when Ulfric’s
thick fingers found a previous bruise helped clear Tate’s head. On her own
she’d probably have risked the consequences but not with Dewdrop and Night as
part of the mix.

They were led away from the
opulently decorated room and down yet another twisting corridor to a series of
cells carved into the hard walls of the tunnel, each with barely enough room
for a child to stand upright. The smell of feces and urine permeated the air.

There were animalistic shrieks and
cries as they walked past. Wild laughter flowed out of one cell while its
occupant rocked back and forth. Dewdrop and Night kept their eyes focused
straight ahead not looking into any of the cells. Tate took one look and rather
wished she hadn’t as bile rose in her throat. After the one glimpse, she kept
her eyes trained on the back of Night’s head.

She didn’t see how some of those
things were still alive. And they were things, not people or animals anymore.
Whatever had been done to them had reduced them to so much meat that their
original form was difficult to discern.

Two dirty snouts poked from a dark
recess while tiny paws batted at the bars. Night made a broken sound as soft
mewls greeted him. He started for the two small figures but was jerked back
when Ulfric hit him with the rod again.

He roared and tried to bite it in
half, straining with every fiber in his body for the two cubs.

With a curse, Tate’s captor shoved
the two of them into a cell and locked it before running to his friends aid
while pulling a shock device off his belt. Together they herded and beat Night
into the adjacent cell before hitting him hard in the head using the rod,
knocking Night unconscious. He slumped to the floor, momentarily stunned. The
cage door slammed shut moments later.

“If I were you, I’d say good bye to
your little animal babies,” Ulfric taunted Night. “It won’t be long before the
Red Lady decides to take her displeasure with your failure out on your
offspring.”

Will pulled Ulfric back. “I’m
heading for the docks. Timmy thinks that’s where the fulcrum is. Go and tell
the Lady, that her guests are here.”

Ulfric shoved Will’s hands off him
and stalked away from the cells. “Yeah, yeah.”

Tate waited until their voices had
faded before rushing to the cell’s bars. She touched the lock gently, yelping
and jerking back when it shocked her. She shook her hand out. Guess she wasn’t
picking this lock.

“Night, buddy, I really hope this
is part of your plan,” she yelled, venturing as close to the bars as she could
without getting shocked. “Otherwise we’re in serious trouble.”

Silence answered her. She shifted
uneasily, worried that the blow to his head had injured him more than she
thought.

“Night? Are you awake?” Still
nothing. “Come on. Talk to me.”

The cubs snuffled, their cries
getting louder and louder. Worried that they’d attract attention, Tate said,
“Hush, hush, little ones. Your father’s not hurt. He’s just sleeping.”

At the sound of her voice they
quieted until she stopped talking before resuming. Their mewling filled the
entire space nearly drowning out the other occupants noise. Tate slumped. She’d
never dealt with babies before and didn’t know how to comfort them or make them
stop. She shushed them again with little effect, her admonitions for quiet met
with an increased volume.

“Quiet, you cursed caterwaulers,”
Dewdrop suddenly shouted next to her ear, almost sending her leaping into the
bars in surprise. “Nobody’s hurt you and not one of us wants to hear you
whine.”

Tate shot a disconcerted glance his
way, one that showed her stunned awe when the little ones finally stopped
crying. If she’d known it only took yelling at them to make them behave, she
would have done that from the beginning.

She’d almost forgotten about
Dewdrop in her concern over Night’s welfare. “You. You,” she sputtered. “You,
little thief. This is your fault. How’d you know we’d be here, anyway? Did
Lucius send you?”

Thinking about everything that
happened, she narrowed her eyes at him, slightly comforted when he looked away
in shame. “Or did you switch sides to this Red Lady everybody has so much to
say about?” She poked him when he didn’t answer. “Well?”

He hunched his shoulders and stared
at the ground stubbornly, tightening his lips. Tate sighed and moved away from
the bars, grimacing with distaste when she saw the state of the floors and
decided her legs would have to be broken before she’d sit.

Although there was a bucket for
bodily waste, it looked like the previous occupants hadn’t been too good with
their aim. Urine, feces, and darker stains, probably blood, dotted the floor.
She cursed whatever had urged her to break free of Lucius and his men. At least
his prison cells were clean, and he hadn’t threatened her outright, not really.
Okay, okay, so he had, but he’d been very polite about the whole thing, and
really this place was disgusting. Not fit for occupancy.

“What is that?” she said pointing
at a suspicious pile of goo.

Dewdrop’s face was grim as he told
her, “You really don’t want to know.”

She curled her lip in distaste.
She’d take his word for it. Determined to ignore the reality of the situation,
she asked, “So what’s your story? Whatever the truth is I doubt it’s as bad as
being here.”

“I wouldn’t lean against that,”
Dewdrop remarked when she started to rest her weight against the wall.

She straightened quickly. “Why? Was
I about to touch something gross?”

“No.” He took out a button and
threw it against the wall, which shot bright sparks out on contact. The button
fell to the floor, smoking. “They’ve set these things up so the floor and walls
can shock its occupants if they try to get comfortable.”

Tate gave the wall a considering
look. Smart. Done over a period of time, denying a person rest and food was a
good way to break their spirit and make them beg to tell you their secrets.
Inflict a little added pain and suffering and they broke that much quicker.

“So? Like it or not, it looks like
we’re in this together,” Tate said turning back to him. “Might as well tell me
what you know. We could even help each other out.”

“Help each other?” The sound
Dewdrop made was ugly and raw and only slightly resembled a laugh. “It’s your
fault that everything’s gone so wrong. If you hadn’t stolen the key, I’d still
be part of Lucius’s crew.” He threw up his hands. “Do you know how hard we
worked to become part of his circle? How difficult it was? Then on our first job,
a simple snatch, you have to go and steal the key. And just like that my chance
to be part of one of the strongest clans is gone.”

Tate felt a niggle of guilt. Said
like that it made her feel kind of bad for the part she played. Especially
since that one impulsive act had been decided on a whim, the consequences of
which were still playing out. It was the lynchpin on which this entire
situation seemed to rest.

She just wished she could figure
out what made a rich woman’s simple hairpiece so very important.

She ran a hand through her hair.
Apologies didn’t come easy to her, but she figured in this case it was
warranted. “Look, I’m sorry if any action on my part hurt you. That wasn’t my
intention. On the other hand if your friend hadn’t tried to relieve me of my
coin, I never would have taken the hairpin. Not that that excuses what I did,
but it is an explanation.”

Dewdrop eyed her with the wariness
of a veteran street urchin, trying to figure out her hidden agenda. To a boy
raised on the unforgiving streets, a simple apology with no strings, must seem
foreign. Tate meant what she said. She hadn’t planned for any of this to
happen.

She softened her voice, “You’re in
the thick of this just as much as we are. I sincerely doubt they’ll go any
easier on you, and seeing as you’re part of a rival faction, they’ll probably
be tougher. Let’s all just work together, and when we get out you can go back
to hating me or whatever it is you do.” He seemed to think over what she said.
Coming to a decision he nodded once. “Now, since you knew about the walls, I’m
going to assume you’ve been here before.”

Cautiously, he nodded again. Okay,
good. He was beginning to cooperate. “How did you escape last time?”

He shrugged. “Luck and a lack of
vigilance on guard’s part.”

Not exactly what she’d wanted to
hear, but perhaps with a little more detail they could figure something out.
She motioned for him to continue.

He rolled his eyes but answered
her. “Getting out of the cages is impossible; the sparks see to that. You can’t
pick the lock on the door from this side without getting seriously burned. I
once saw someone stick his hands out to fiddle with the lock, and by the time
he gave up, his hands had blistered and burned, permanently maiming him.”

Tate shuddered, not wanting to know
what had been so awful that he had been willing to risk that amount of pain to
escape.

“He still wasn’t able to pick the
lock, and he was a master thief.”

“Then how’d you get out?”

“Like I said, breaking out of here
is impossible. The only way to escape is when the guards come to escort you to
the Red Lady. There’s a brief window of opportunity from the time you step out
of this cage until you arrive in front of her, where you can, if you’re lucky,
escape.” His explanation finished, he crossed his arms.

“That’s it?” Tate asked flatly.
“That’s your great plan? Wait until an unknown number of guards with an unknown
skill set come to take us away, to stage our grand escape. Never mind the fact
that they might not take all of us, or that it will likely only work once.” She
shook her head. “Thanks. You’ve been a great help.”

“Hey,” Dewdrop said shrugging. “You
asked, and I answered.”

Tate narrowed her eyes at him,
studying his thin frame. Something about his story didn’t make sense. His face
was gaunt from malnourishment making his light brown eyes seem too big while
muscles were almost nonexistent on his slim build. If he knew anything about
fighting, she’d eat her shirt.

“I don’t think so,” she said
speculatively. “You’re not telling me something.”

Dewdrop’s mouth clamped shut, and
he found the excrement on the floor of extreme interest. Mm hm. He was
definitely hiding something.

She grabbed him by his shirtfront,
dragging him close and thrusting her face into his. “Listen, you little thief,
I don’t have time to be pussy footing around with you. I have to get those two
little ones and their father out of here, so tell me what you know, all of it.”

“Or what?” he snarled back, a lock
of his raggedy brown hair flopping down to partially cover his eyes. “Or you’ll
beat it out of me like all the rest. Threaten to kill me if I don’t do what you
want.”

His jaw was set as he met her eyes
resolutely. She studied him. His body was coiled tight with energy and his legs
spread shoulder length apart as if he was bracing to be hit. Such fierceness in
such a tiny package. What in his life had made him that way? She sighed,
releasing him. It’d been worth a shot. Threats weren’t how she normally liked
to play things, but she’d hoped he’d be intimidated enough to tell her what she
wanted. Guess not.

She blew a piece of hair off her
face and rubbed her neck. Her back ached with constantly hunching over to avoid
the low hanging ceiling. She bent to examine the cage’s lock. If only she could
somehow pick it without having to touch any of the metal.

“What? No threats?” Dewdrop yelled
at her. “This is all I can expect from a crew member of the legendary
Marauder?”

“Boy, I’m not your enemy,” Tate
said tiredly. “I’m sure you’ll figure that out soon enough.”

It’d been a long night and she just
didn’t have the time or energy to deal with a street urchin with a chip on his
shoulder. Her talents would be of more use in another area, like say, finding a
way to escape.

“Night? You awake yet?” she
shouted.

A faint voice answered.
Barely.

She laughed, relieved. “I can’t
tell you how good it is to hear your voice, buddy.”

What happened?
he said, his
voice groggy.

“We found your cubs,” she said in a
positive upbeat voice.

So my plan worked.

“Unfortunately we also managed to
get captured again.”

So I see.

“Since this was all part of your
plan, I take it you have a way out of here.”

I hadn’t gotten to that part
yet.

“Great.” Tate had a sudden urge to
bang her head against the walls. “Before I forget, the guy with me says not to
touch anything. Evidently the floor drains your energy and the ceiling and
walls bite.”

 
I know. I’ve been here
before. Remember
?

Oh yeah. He probably knew the
dangers of their situation better than Tate.

 “Look, I’m working on a plan
to get us out of here,” she said with her eyes closed and trying to infuse her
voice with every speck of positive energy she could.

That’s good. I really don’t want
to meet the Red Lady again.

“The guy with me said he’s escaped
before. We just need to work out a few details, and then we’ll get to work on
it.”

Really?
There was rustling
from his cell as he moved around.
Is there anything you need from me?