Search and rescue of banished royal families. Living in a volcano full of young warrior-monks–this was the brand of mischief a royal ward perpetrated in her spare time. Lia suppressed a nervous chuckle as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the gloom of a storeroom which was filled with barrels of mohili flour, judging by the musty smell.
Hualiama began to draw her Nuyallith blades before sheathing them with a grimace. The Master of Shadows would’ve striped her hide. ‘Weapons only when needed,’ she mimicked his sarcastic tones. ‘No time to braid your hair, Princess.’ Finding the door locked, Lia raided her wristlet for lock picks. She had raced against time often enough to know exactly what needed to be done to this type of lock. With a horribly loud click, she turned the simple mechanism and eased the door open. Faraway, the low thrumming of machinery came to her hearing.
I’ll investigate, said Flicker.
Hualiama nodded. Go. While it made sense to take advantage of her Dragon companions’ superior abilities, it did leave a Human feeling rather stuck on the ground and inadequate, at times.
She padded down a corridor dimly lit by oil torches set in sconces on the wall. Up or down? The slaves’ living quarters had to be lower down, close to the mines. That would make it easier for Ra’aba’s men to control them and prevent escape. So these levels would likely be used for storage, or accommodation for his men.
Lia came to a central staircase leading to a lower level landing. She shrank into the shadows. Flicker. Mercy, the sudden, silent movement had scared her.
Found something, he said. One level down, a set of guarded apartments. I think it might be your family’s accommodation. Two soldiers at the door.
Let’s take a look.
Lia bounded down the stairs, three at a time, before flattening herself against the wall and peering around the corner. Forty feet down this corridor, two soldiers moped either side of an imposing-looking doorway. Promising.
She motioned to the dragonet. Distract them.
Next she knew, Flicker sauntered out into the open and began scratching his rear! Lia gaped at his gall before taking the opportunity to scan her surroundings. A warm breeze on her cheek brought the acrid tang of smoke and metals to her nose and throat, suggesting that the entrance to the mines proper was nearby, lower down. Lia heard male voices deep in discussion.
“Huh? There’s a dragonet,” said a voice, in the familiar accent of her home Island. Aye. This was the place, alright.
“Chase it off,” said the second soldier. “Ra’aba doesn’t like anyone near his quarters, despite that a few dragonets would keep the rat population down around here.”
Hualiama froze, but the first man replied, “He isn’t here. Scoot, you dumb animal! No food here.” Footsteps sauntered closer. “Scoot!”
Hualiama palmed one of her forked daggers. Drat, the soldier would appear on her less favoured right side. Closer, closer … Flicker walked past her, still scratching his unmentionables … the soldier marched around the corner and straight into the razor-sharp blade of an Immadian forked dagger. He gurgled. Lia tried to lower his body silently, but the soldier’s sword clattered on the stairway.
“Fa’arric?” called the other man. “You alright there?”
Plucking an arrow from her quiver, Lia set it to the string and drew hastily. Time to see what her Haozi hunting bow could do. Stepping just an inch clear of the corner, she sighted her shot.
“Who’s–” The man’s voice cut off. Lia had aimed for his chest, but the soldier’s reflexive duck meant he took the arrow right beneath the rim of his open-faced helmet. Not the most pleasant end for any man, but certainly quick and painless.
Lia stole along to the door, checking in both directions. She tested the door handle. Locked, of course.
Flicker said, Quiet in there.
She retrieved her arrow with an effort, a gory but necessary task. No telling how many more arrows she might need. Right, lock picks–this lock had been recently oiled, but was considerably more complex than the previous one. Lia bit her tongue, listening and concentrating. Click. There, a welcoming sound. She pressed the door open, keeping to the closed side of the double door as she had been taught. A light glimmered inside. Was Ra’aba truly absent?
Oh, come on, said Flicker, darting through the doorway.
Swish! Thud!
Had the dragonet stood an ordinary Human’s height, he would have been struck by five arrows, whose points penetrated the wooden door but stopped an inch shy of Lia’s chest. As it