“I’m in a bit of a hurry, so an answer would be greatly appreciated.”
One of the men stuffed his hand into his pocket, chucked a set of keys at my head, and took off running toward the stairs. The other two chased after him.
I fitted the key into the lock and turned. With a click, my hand was free. By the time I removed the second and the chain clattered to the ground, shouts echoed off the hollow walls. No sense going back into the skinny hall where I couldn’t even get in a good punch. And with the heavy iron doors leading down here, evanescing wouldn’t work either.
So I went to the wall of bloodied instruments and picked up the scythe. Perfect for cutting down any obstacles in one’s path.
And then I sat on one of the empty racks and waited for the humans scrambling in the hallway to get themselves together.
“Ho there!” The chains on one of the cages creaked when the man within crawled toward me. “I can help ye. All ye need to do is cut me down.”
I adjusted my grip on the scythe’s rough handle. Hopefully I didn’t end up with a splinter. “I don’t need your help.”
“They’ll bring the whole army,” he countered.
“Your point?”
“Let me down. All ye have to do is pull the lever right there. Please.”
I really didn’t have time for this. For all I knew, the man deserved to be swinging from that cage. “Why are you locked up?”
“I stole bread to feed my family.”
Even from down here, I could taste the sweetness of his lie. “Look, if you’re going to lie to me, I’ll just as happily leave you there to rot.”
He groaned. “Ugh. Fine. I tried to assassinate the king. Happy?”
Not quite yet. “Why did you want to assassinate the king?”
“For the bloody money. Why else?”
Principles. Vengeance. Justice. Love. There were plenty of reasons to kill someone that didn’t involve monetary gain. “If I let you go, you aren’t allowed to kill the king.” I needed him alive to ensure he did my bidding. Otherwise, all of this would have been for naught.
The man nodded emphatically. “If ye help me get out of this place, I swear I won’t kill the king.”
Too bad the man was a lying bastard. I slid off the rack and started for the door, stepping over the bodies of the two guards I’d already killed.
“Where are you going? Come back! Come back!” His pitiful cries were lost to the shouts from the humans collecting in the hallway.
“If you were in my army, I’d have you killed for being so feckin’ slow,” I shouted. “I could’ve been freeing all the prisoners and training them to be brilliant warriors in the time it took you to get down here.”
The closest soldier’s gaze dropped to the scythe. Whispers rippled back from where he stood, shaking in his gleaming black boots.
I gestured toward his boots with the blade.“Where did you get those?”
“M-my boots?”
“No, your legs. Of course your feckin’ boots.” Was everyone in this country daft as doornail?
“F-from Ellison’s. On m-market street.”
“What’s he sayin’?” someone whispered from a few steps above.
“He’s askin’ Mitchell about his boots.”
“His boots?”
Looked like I’d be making a stop at Ellison’s on my way out of Vellana City. I slammed the scythe’s handle against the stones, and the sound made all the soldiers snap to attention. “I’ll make you a deal, Mitchell. I’ll let you put these back on meifyou bring me to the king.” I kicked the abandoned manacles toward him.