Steelhands (2011) (57 page)

“And now you see me,” I said, wishing I had higher hopes of being able to help him. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“It ain’t that,” Gaeth said. “They’ve had me here for
ages
. I went to see the doctor and must’ve fallen asleep, ’cause when I woke up, there I was in that big room that looks like a smithy! Couldn’t find out where I was, nor if my mam was worried for me. Not to mention … well, best not to speak of the beastie.”

“Beastie?” I asked, latching onto that last bit. I was getting real predictable in my old age; I just had to hope Gaeth wouldn’t hold it against me.

He paled; then his cheeks flooded with color, like he was embarrassed.

“The … the
dragons,
” he said, leaning close and whispering nervously, like he was afraid they’d hear him—wherever they were. “They told me I was very lucky—a ‘prime candidate,’ they said—and they wouldn’t let me leave no matter how many times I told ’em I had reading
to learn and my mam to write to. Then they locked me in a room with a … well, I thought she were a monster at first, but I guess I can’t call her that anymore, since in none of the tales can the monsters
talk
so right. She’s all over silver and blue, and real gentle, but only once you get to know her. She wanted me to name her so I did—a good name, Cornflower—though the man in charge didn’t seem to like that very much, but I suspect he’s got feelings about simple country folk. But she reminded me of my prize milk cow—a real beauty. I
do
miss home.”

Gaeth added this last bit with a deep sigh, and I didn’t blame him in the slightest. Arresting a full-grown man like me—or a scrapper like Antoinette, who could clearly take care of herself—was one thing. Not that we’d deserved it, but we knew the city, and to some extent we understood its pitfalls and dangers, so that even when th’Esar went off his rocker and came flying at us sideways, we weren’t
too
surprised. But this poor bastard was still a kid, not to mention simple as sweet cream. He had no way of knowing Thremedon’s politics—presumably that’s what he’d come to the city to study in the first place—or what it meant that th’Esar’d decided to re-create his own miniature army, violating a pretty important treaty alongside our trust. Far as I could tell, he just wanted to go home. And I didn’t blame him. Hell, I wanted that, too, and I was a seasoned veteran.

“Where’s your dragon now?” I asked.

“I told her to stay put,” Gaeth said, peering over his shoulder. He looked nervous, and I couldn’t say I blamed him for
that
, either. Dragon Corps had been staffed mostly by volunteers—the problem had been too
many
people wanting to join, not too few. I couldn’t imagine what it’d feel like to black out and wake up in a stable, with some mean weasel-faced bastard telling me that I’d been picked to ride one of th’Esar’s finest, without actually having volunteered. “She doesn’t always listen, though. Just like my old Cornflower.”

“Troius told me these dragons always listen to orders,” I said.

“Well, sometimes,” Gaeth said. “But sometimes Cornflower has a few words to say about orders. And sometimes she don’t follow them at all.”

“Interesting,” I said, wondering if the reason for the discrepancy was Troius lying to me or Gaeth having a weaker will. Chances were it was the former—and it made sense Troius’d
want
to believe everything
with the new dragons was working out peachy, since no one wanted to be the first to tell th’Esar that things weren’t running according to plan. Used to be my job. Not anymore. I just hoped Troius would be able to have some real good fun with it.

“I thought maybe I’d try to run away,” Gaeth added. “Not that I’m a runner—my da always said, ‘Face facts, boy’—but if my mam was worrying about not hearing from me, I figured that was more important than honoring my da’s memory. But then I thought, I just don’t know what I’ll do with Cornflower at the farm. She might set fire to the barn, and then Mam’ll have to take her down to the river.”

“Don’t think they’re gonna let you pack up and take her home,” I told him before he could get too carried away.

“But I
have
to go home,” Gaeth said, concern giving way to plain distress. “I done what they wanted … and I miss the sunlight. Without good exercise, I can’t even sleep proper. You don’t think they mean to keep me here forever, do you?”

“That’s exactly what I think,” I said, wavering for only a moment before I told him the truth. Why sugarcoat it? Because he was poor and from the country? Because I felt sorry for him? Nah. That kind of shit never flew with me. I’d only had one way of talking to my boys, and this Gaeth had a dragon now, which made him one of my boys just by default. If I didn’t toughen him up a little, there was a chance no one would, and he’d end up in pieces somewhere, his fate weighing heavy on my conscience.

Anyway, he took it well, so I knew my instincts hadn’t been all off about him. He just stared at me, breathing in deep before he nodded.

“I guessed it,” he said.

“Wish I didn’t have to confirm your suspicions,” I said, starting to lose feeling in my shackled-up leg.

“But will you help me?” Gaeth asked.

“Don’t know how much I can do from inside here,” I reminded him, clanking the chain a bit for emphasis.

“You could pretend to do what they want, couldn’t you?” Gaeth asked. “That’s what I did—what I’m doing—not that it’s done
me
much good. But if there’s two of us … And my Cornflower; not forgetting her. One dragon against the other two—there’d be three, but they’re having trouble with her. So I’m thinking we’d have better odds.
Some even say there’s magicians in here now, and I know they’re smarter than me—and I’m smart enough to know being locked up ain’t good … Maybe
they
’d join us.”

Well?
Antoinette asked, and I was real proud of myself for not jumping when her voice suddenly invaded my head.
Are you being carted off or not?

Hang on
, I told her.
It’s a kid. They’ve got kids down here. Th’Esar’s pairing kids up with new dragons and Regina only knows what horseshit plan he’s following
.

Silence, from inside my head and outside, too, as Gaeth waited for my answer, all white around the mouth the way Balfour used to get before a raid.

When I’m finished with that man, even the worms will not want to eat him
, Antoinette said finally.

Good plan
, I replied.
Why poison the worms?

“Listen, Gaeth,” I said, lowering my voice as best I could, so that he’d have to lean in. “Someone’s coming to break us out. Friends of mine, I think.
If
we’re lucky—and I’m not saying we will be—can you stick around here to wait for them?”

“
I
could,” Gaeth admitted, looking up and down the hall again. “But my Cornflower …”

The reluctance in his voice sent a pang through me. If he thought it was bad being nagged by her
now
, try after they’d been together for years, and she knew him well enough to outsmart him
all
the time.

“Where are they keeping the other dragons?” I asked. Not because I was fool enough to think we could go after them but because it seemed like good information to have—for later, maybe, so we didn’t stumble into a damn nest.

“There’s another building,” Gaeth whispered. “Across a bridge—I’m always worried I’ll take a tumble straight off the thing. I can swim, but the water’s so dark, it ain’t natural. No one’s fallen in yet, but it makes me sick to look down.”

“I’ve been there,” I told him, remembering the metal key in Troius’s palm and Ironjaw’s claws tearing up the floor.

Just then I heard more footsteps—several pairs this time and all at once, like a team of guards heading toward my cell.

“Is that for you, or me?” I asked, hoping Gaeth wouldn’t spook.

“Might be they learned I was coming,” Gaeth whispered, holding
very still. That might’ve helped him while dealing with bears in the countryside, but it wouldn’t do much good with a trained guard. “I know my Cornflower didn’t betray me, though. She doesn’t like Troius, and she hates Ironjaw.”

Hush the boy
, Antoinette said.

Are they friend or foe?
I asked.

I’m a mind reader
, Antoinette replied,
not an oracle
.

Either way, we’d know soon enough. I tried to indicate to Gaeth that he should hightail it out of there. If he was caught consorting with the enemy, I didn’t know how far his precious rare connection to a dragon would go to protect him, and I didn’t want him getting hurt on my account.

“It’s a big man,” Gaeth whispered, eyes fixed not on me, but staring off somewhere down the hall. “
Very
big man.”

I could see now why Troius wanted to recruit someone like me to the cause—someone who knew a little something about
actual training
.

Then, an arm—a
very
big arm—reached out to grab Gaeth by the shoulder, managing to lift him clear of the ground.

There was only one person I knew in all of Thremedon who could do that, and I was relieved for a moment to realize my rescue party had come at last. But I didn’t want Gaeth panicking and calling his girl to attack. That’d be a surefire way to let everyone know what was happening.

“Put ’im down, Ghislain,” I said.

Slowly, Gaeth was lowered to the floor. A moment after that, Ghislain’s head loomed into view. “This one’s not bothering you?” he asked.

I could hear the jingling of keys, which at least meant that while we were shooting the shit, just casually catching up, somebody was trying to bust me out.

“Not any more than young folk usually do,” I replied. “And I
think
he’s on our side. Though we’ve got someone a few cells down who’ll be able to tell for certain. In the meantime, Gaeth, this is Ghislain. Make your acquaintance on your own time. You don’t want to get on Ghislain’s bad side, now do you, Gaeth?”

“No, Professor Adamo,” Gaeth said, not so much wide-eyed as he was well mannered. I was even starting to like him, so it’d really chafe my chaps if he turned out to be pulling a fast one on me.

“Good,” I said. “What in bastion’s name is taking so long with the keys out there?”

“Keys’re getting stuck to Balfour’s hands,” Ghislain explained.

And, crazy as it might’ve sounded to anyone else, it made perfect sense to me. Which just went to show how upside down my world had become.

“Gaeth?” I heard a familiar voice ask, a little too loud for my liking, from somewhere outside my cell. It belonged to that skinny cricket—the one engaged to Laure—though it seemed I’d forgotten his name outta pure spite.

“
You’re
the one who locked him up?” another voice demanded. It was the one I’d been hoping
not
to hear, truth be told, because it only meant that the girl’d gone and put herself in harm’s way—when I’d been trying to put her right out of it.

But I guessed it was exactly what I would’ve done, so I couldn’t fault her for it. Still, I certainly wished I’d been less complacent, so I wouldn’t look like the biggest fool this side of the Cobalts when Balfour finally got the cell door open.

“I didn’t know anything about it,” Gaeth protested. “Professor Adamo’s a hero. He doesn’t belong down here.”

Your little party could stand to be a little less boisterous
, Antoinette suggested. And she was right, of course. I cleared my throat, which Ghislain and Balfour would recognize as a sign for everyone to shut the fuck up. It might’ve been a while since we’d all fought together, but some cues triggered instincts you just never forgot.

Ghislain lifted his hand—I couldn’t see his face anymore, since the opening in my cell door was set too low, but I could only assume he’d brought his fingers to his lips—and said, only once but very convincing, “Shh.”

Everybody quieted, so all we could hear was the jingling of the keys, and—finally—the sound of the right one sliding deep into the lock, turning with a
click
that was music to my ears.

I couldn’t celebrate just yet, but it was step one completed. The door swung open and I saw Ghislain—or the lower half of his body, most of his head cut off by the top of the door—and Balfour crouched beside him. There was Laure, too, standing with her hands on her hips like she needed to be sure I was really in the cell, taking in the details like a natural.
Next to her was her fiancé, wringing his hands together, and Gaeth, scratching at the back of his head.

But that wasn’t all, I realized, feeling a little overwhelmed. Luvander’d come along, too, and next to him was somebody my eyes wouldn’t believe I was seeing.

“We brought a surprise,” that someone said, lifting his hand in a wave. “Can you imagine? It’s me!”

“Now, Raphael,” Luvander cautioned, “Owen Adamo has had a very long day. Let’s try not to be unnecessarily wearing.”

I had a lot of things to say, but I had to lick my lips a few times and force myself to be their Chief Sergeant, thereby not actually saying any of ’em. “Where’s Royston?” I asked finally. “He didn’t do anything stupid, did he?”

“That remains to be seen,” Balfour said, coming inside the cell and searching for a key to unlock the cuff around my ankle. “He provided the distraction. We don’t have much time.”

“Then toss Ghislain some keys and get the magicians out,” I told him.

“It’ll take a minute,” Balfour said, trying another key. “I just need to be sure I have the right … Ah, there we go.”

The manacle opened and I was free. Fortunately it hadn’t been on me long enough to do any real damage; though the skin was sensitive, it wasn’t yet raw.

Without waiting any longer—so, without wasting any more time—Balfour tossed his keys up to Ghislain.

“There were two in cells that I saw,” I told him. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t more around, so check all of ’em.”

“There
are
more now,” Laure said, seeming unsure of herself when everyone looked around toward her, then soldiering on. “Margrave Royston said they were making arrests at the Basquiat right after you were taken. Stands to reason they’d be here, too, doesn’t it?”