His right shoulder was sending throbs of pain down the entire side of his body. Kildare gritted his teeth against it, hunching his shoulder close to himself as he followed Serene through the streets back to the Broken Chair.
He hadn’t seen a sign of Snitch or Fir the entire way back.
More than his shoulder, he could feel the sickness of fear and anger making his chest feel hot and his neck and the back of his skull ache with tension. Please let them be all right. Please.
As the Broken Chair came into view, Serene slowed and turned. Kildare stopped. People wove around them, intent on their own errands. She reached out and gripped his hand. Kildare raised his eyes to her face. Determination sharpened her, drew her lips into a thin line. But he could see a softness there too. The corners of her eyes glistened as if she was struggling to hold back tears.
She was angry, he realized. More angry than he’d ever seen her. Hope bloomed, soothing the heat in him a little. They would do this. They would get Snitch and Fir out of Basalt’s hands.
“I’m ready to fight,” she said in a low voice. “Tell me what I have to do.”
“You don’t have to do any—”
She cut him off. “I’m on your side. Yours, Kil.” She squeezed his hands, pressing their bond tattoos together. “No one else’s. Not ever again. I’m not going to let this go. I’m going to fight and do whatever it takes, for us. Do you understand?”
The deep, dark sincerity in her gaze nearly broke Kildare’s heart. He reached forward, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her to his chest. “I believe you. I just...”
“I know,” she whispered into his shirt. She rose on tiptoes and kissed him.
Kildare cupped the back of her head with one hand and pressed her closer to him with the other. Her body molded to his, and he closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of it, the feel of her velvet lips on his, the warmth of the bare skin of her lower back under his palm. He felt like he could lose himself right now in this moment. Nothing mattered except Serene and the closeness between them.
Serene’s lips dropped from his, and he felt her take in a deep breath. Kildare opened his eyes and glanced down at her.
Her lips curled into a smirk. “Ready?”
He nodded.
“Good.” Serene pushed open the door of the Broken Chair.
It was quiet.
Kildare paused in the doorway, heart racing. This felt wrong. Every other time he’d been in here, even early in the morning, the place had been loud and bustling. Now, not even a barmaid stood behind the bar. The lights were out, leaving the interior shadowy, with only flickering lights from the banked embers of the fire.
He eased over the threshold. Serene squeezed in beside him, her hand still clasped around his. He tried to loosen her grip, but it only tightened.
Serene spun, hand flashing to her side. “No!”
The door slammed shut behind them.
Kildare turned, the quick movement sending a shock of pain down his side. He hunched, wincing, and stared at the woman who stood in front of the door. Eras’s cloak and the flickering shadows concealed most of her body, but her stance suggested she held some kind of small weapon. Serene stood beside him, one arm angled in front of Kildare’s body, the other tucked close to her chest, dagger flat against her forearm.
“Where are they, Eras?” Serene demanded.
The woman shrugged. “Meeting with Basalt in your place.”
“Why did you take them?” Serene barely scuffed one foot forward, her voice rising in pitch. “You could’ve just taken the stone.”
One of Eras’s fine eyebrows, so pale and thin that it was barely visible against her pale skin, rose. “Really. You should know better than that, Serene. I just needed to ensure that you really were coming back. I knew this one—” she nodded to Kildare—"wouldn’t leave his friends. His…family."
“Let’s go talk to Basalt,” he said quietly. “We were supposed to go free after we got the puzzle box for him. We did better than that—we got him the item he wanted. We’ll clear this up.”
Eras’s eyes met his, and she stepped forward. Serene’s weight shifted back against him. And then…she stepped to the side.
Even though he knew it was a show, even though he knew she didn’t want to, the movement still made Kildare’s heart drop. He glanced to the side, saw Serene sheath her knives. Then her eyes widened.
“Kil—”
Eras’s foot connected with the side of his leg. Kildare dropped to his knees, slamming his right hand down to the floor to keep from toppling over completely. Eras grabbed his wounded shoulder and dug her thumb into the bloodstained bandage. Pain flashed down from his shoulder to his elbow. Kildare grunted and tucked his shoulder in, reaching up to grab Eras’s wrist.
“You don’t get it yet,” she hissed, leaning down. “Serene is not yours. She will never be yours. And now you belong to Basalt as well.”
Kildare glanced over at Serene.
She stood with her hands clenched, lips pulled back from her fangs in a snarl. Scales stood out along her shifter stripes and her hands. She raised her chin and swallowed, and slowly the scales disappeared. The raw fury drained from her face, leaving only the fear.
Eras released Kildare with a shove and looked at Serene. “Get him on his feet.”
Serene hurried over and gripped his uninjured arm, pulling him upright. She squeezed his hand tightly, searching his eyes. Kildare squeezed back.
They followed Eras through the tavern, Serene’s grip tight on Kildare’s hand as he led her forward. Kildare tucked his right elbow against his side, trying not to jar his shoulder any more.
Eras knocked on the door.
As soon as the echo died, a Knocken guard yanked the door open. The inner door, the one leading to the audience chamber where they’d met with Basalt when they’d first gotten to the city, was hanging open, and he could hear the murmur of voices. Kildare marched through.
The audience room was well lit. Basalt sat behind his desk, paging through a book with one hand, the other hand splayed over a small round object on the table. Taoh stood at his side, as usual.
As Eras entered, Basalt looked up. He smiled. “Ah. They’ve arrived.”
“I thought you’d want to talk to them before we put them in the holding cells,” Eras said. “Was I right?”
Basalt motioned to Kildare and Serene. “Come.”
Kildare’s steps slowed as he crossed the room. He glanced over his shoulder. Serene stood at the doorway, looking frustrated and angry as one of the Knocken guards patted her down, confiscating weapons as he found them. As soon as the Knocken was finished, she dashed across the room to his side and gripped his hand again.
Taos moved aside and together they stepped up to stand in front of Basalt.
Basalt leaned back in his chair. “Fir explained to me how you took the felsic stone from Oak.” He chuckled. “I knew I could count on you.”
Kildare cleared his throat. “I told you, my team’s the best.” He clenched his hands. “I thought we had a bargain, Basalt. I got the puzzle box back for you, my team got to walk away.”
“Ah, but, you see, we had a few hiccups in that plan.” Basalt jabbed one of his stubby fingers at Serene. “You wanted her. That was just something I couldn’t allow.”
“Then why not—”
“Would you have done any work for me if you didn’t think you had a shot at freeing the drake female you’d fallen in love with?” Basalt’s voice rose above Kildare’s. “Not to mention this.” He patted the object on the table. The felsic stone.
Kildare’s stomach churned. “We retrieved it.”
“You were told to retrieve the puzzle box, not the stone. I’d been wondering if it was worth the risk of letting you go, but this…” Basalt’s eyes danced with mad glee. “The news of this stone must never reach outside ears. Once you’d figured out what was in the box, my boy, I’m afraid your fate was sealed.”
Serene inhaled sharply beside him. “He’s going to kill us,” she whispered softly.
Kildare’s stomach knotted.
Basalt looked at her, his eyes squinting. “How shrewd, milady thief.” Then he shook his head. “It’s not quite as bad as that, though I imagine for a time you would prefer death.” He looked at Eras. “I suppose you’ll want to get to this part right away.”
Eras grinned and made a gesture.
Two sets of guards closed in, grabbing Serene and Kildare and yanking them apart. Serene yelped, struggling to twist free, but the guard’s fingers dug into her upper arms, holding her still. Kildare grabbed for her hand, but the guards holding him yanked him back another couple of steps, keeping her just out of reach.
“No, I don’t want to waste this chance on making a profit. An Alfaren and a matched pair of wyverns on the slave market, well, you would all fetch quite a good price,” Basalt continued. “Of course, whole ones would net me an even bigger profit, but some things can’t be helped, I suppose.”
Eras approached Kildare, twirling a bone and metal needle in her hand. She jabbed it into Kildare’s shoulder, and he felt the numbing dragonsbane enter his system almost immediately. He blinked hard and shook his head, then winced as Eras dug her fingers into either side of his jaw. She drew a small dagger from her belt and grinned, tapping the dagger against one of his fangs.
“Eras,” Serene said, apprehension making her voice tight.
Eras smirked. “Don’t worry, Serene. Who knows, maybe you’ll like him even better without his tongue. Although I imagine you’ll miss some benefits.”
Without… my… Kildare tried to jerk away from her. “Serene!” he yelled. One of the Knocken grabbed his hair and held his head still. He tried to struggle, but his muscles felt weak, slow. Just have to wait…until the dragonsbane fades… It didn’t take long. Only a few minutes…
Eras’s dagger nicked the side of his mouth.
Kildare’s chest tightened. They didn’t have a few minutes.
“Basalt, you sure you have the right stone?” Serene yelled.
Eras froze. Kildare strained, trying to see Serene without turning his head and risking Eras’s knife cutting him further.
Serene had yanked one hand free of the Knocken guards and stood with her arm extended, clutching a leather pouch.
Eras and Basalt both swore at the same time. Eras pulled her knife from Kildare’s mouth and jammed it back into the sheath at her side. She stalked over and tried to grab the pouch from Serene.
Serene jerked it back, clutching it against her chest. “We want Snitch and Fir back. We want to walk out of here. Safely. All four of us. With promises of no harassment.” Serene looked at Basalt. “I couldn’t care less about your blighted rock. All I want is for Kildare, myself, Fir, and Snitch to be free to have our own lives. We won’t interfere with you—you don’t interfere with us.”
“I’ll just kill you and take—” Eras started.
Serene glared up at Eras, her jaw clenched. Scales broke along her stripes and her hands. Serene held up the pouch. “If you try, we’ll shift. We’ll fight our way out of here, find our friends ourselves, and leave here with the stone.”
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” Eras demanded.
Serene grinned, her eyeteeth sharp in the torchlight. “Because this is easier.”
The room was dead silent. Kildare glanced at Basalt. The old Alfaren rocked the felsic stone back and forth on the table, his eyes locked on the pouch in Serene’s hand.
Did they buy the excuse? Or would Basalt figure out they were up to something—that there was some reason they had to come back and confront him, rather than just fighting their way through?
Sweat trickled down the back of Kildare’s neck. He wasn’t going to take the risk. He wouldn’t go for it. He was going to order Eras to stick her knife back in his mouth and cut out his tongue, then cut out Serene’s tongue, and that would be the end of it.
“Go get the Alfaren,” Basalt barked at a Knocken guard.
“Sir!” Eras spun around to face him.
“Shut your mouth, Eras,” Basalt growled. “We can’t take this chance.”
“You can’t trust them. They’re thieves. They’re going to walk out of here and sell this information to the highest bidder they can find.”
“Eras.” Basalt’s voice rang with ice. “What did I just tell you?”
Eras’s spine stiffened. Without another word, she strode away from Serene and around the table to stand at Basalt’s side. She looked over Basalt’s head, exchanging a glance with Taoh.
Taoh nodded once.
Kildare stood, jerking his arms free of the Knocken guards. He still felt slightly dizzy from the dragonsbane, so he concentrated on walking in a straight line forward. He slammed his hand down on the table, leaning over it at Basalt. “I want her contract.” He spoke slowly, forcing the words out, so they didn’t slur.
Basalt glared at him.
Kildare snarled. “Give me her contract, old man, or I’ll rip your throat out right now and damn the consequences.”
Basalt’s lips pursed. With a sigh, he turned to one of the ledgers stacked by his side. Running his fingers along the edges of the pages, he located the one he wanted, opened it, and ripped out a page. He slid it across the table to Kildare.
Kildare picked it up. The precisely written script was indeed Serene’s slave contract, complete with city seal and a sketch of Serene as a child. Her wide, innocent eyes stared up at him from the picture. She couldn’t have been more than three. A flash of anger spiked through Kildare’s chest. He walked to the edge of the room and held the contract to the flame of a torch, letting the fire eat away at the parchment. The flames licked his fingers as the last pieces of the paper crumbled into dark gray and red ash.
Kildare returned to Serene’s side and settled his hand on her shoulder as they waited for their friends.
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