servants’ levels of the palace.
There was also the charming affectation of the large torture-chambers just off the guardroom, which from all reports, Ra’aba had put to extensive use. Squeezing out of the sewer, the different groups of monks formed up and loped off to carry out their duties. Lia led her group to the stairs.
Ja’al whispered into her ear, “Is it always this crowded?”
“No.”
Her eyes flicked from side to side. Five, six to a cell. The acrid stench of sewage and unwashed Human bodies. Ra’aba had certainly been busy. There were whole families occupying cells, the children having to sleep stacked together like dragonets in a warren. A Dragoness’ fierce, aggrieved anger suffused her breast. This was wrong. The Roc’s tyranny knew no boundaries.
“Why don’t we let these people loose?” asked Ja’al.
“Too noisy right now. Once the King starts his assault, I’d like to–if we can get the keys from the guardroom.”
Flicker’s voice sounded in her head. All clear to the guardroom, but it’s locked.
Keys?
Can’t see them. Twenty Human soldiers; only five awake.
“Flicker says it’s clear but he can’t see the keys,” Hualiama whispered. “Let’s go up and take care of any patrolling soldiers. Then, wait for the signal.”
Lia called mentally, Flicker, please give us an estimate of the Dragonship’s arrival. The dragonet darted away.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Lia’s group fanned out, keeping well clear of the stairs up to the guardroom. Hualiama heard a tiny scuffle downstairs, and then silence. Nearby, a snick of metal against metal. Again, silence. She smiled bleakly. Each of those noises represented a patrolling guard being taken out of action.
She and Ja’al trotted down to the last corridor of cells on the southern side. They paused for a minute for a patrolling soldier to reach them, before Ja’al ghosted forth and struck the base of his skull with a fist clasped around a weighted baton. The soldier slumped; Lia seized his weapons before they clanged on the floor. Her ears identified a tiny scuffing sound. ‘Another,’ she signed. Ja’al nodded, pointing at himself. He slipped away, returning after an interminably long time with a grim smile and a nod.
Checking the final corridor, Ja’al jerked back hurriedly. Lia could not understand his smile. ‘Look,’ he signed. Gingerly, she peered around the corner. Her hand flew to her mouth. Two cells down on the opposite side, a hulking guard and a female prisoner were locked in a passionate embrace, despite the metal bars separating them.
With a tiny flutter of wings, Flicker returned to her shoulder. They’re early. I saw the King’s forces already approaching the Palace grounds. The Dragonship is less than five minutes away–by my wings, what are those two doing?
Kissing, said Lia.
Flicker gurgled softly, a dragonet laugh of disbelief. That’s revolting. They look like they’re eating each other’s faces.
Lia clucked crossly. It’s just a kiss. An unabashed, endless, world-stopping kiss. Actually, it’s a good opportunity for us, because our naughty boy Chago there has the keys.
I’m glad you never kissed me like that, Flicker snickered.
“Wait here,” said Lia, enflamed of cheek as she remembered her kiss with Ja’al. She darted across to the pair. Putting as much gruff and bark into her voice as possible, Lia snapped, “Report, soldier!”
They parted as though a Dragon had charged between them.
“S-Sir,” Chago said, before his brow beetled. “Who the–Princess! What are you doing here?”
Lia glanced at Inniora, dumbfounded and immobile in the middle of her cell. “Is this how the Royal Guard takes care of its prisoners, Chago?”
The giant Western Isles warrior, fully a head and a half taller than Lia, crashed to his knee and bowed his head. He rasped, “Your Highness, words fail me. We heard you were dead. Ra’aba celebrated; it was awful, and then Inniora whispered to me …” Poor man, tears rolled down his scarified cheeks! Even kneeling, she noticed with a tiny flare of annoyance, he was nearly as tall as her.
“Lia?” Inniora gasped. “It’s really you?”
With a wicked grin, Lia said, “Maybe I should just leave you here with Chago. You seem to like the dungeons.”
“I’d rather join in whatever nasty designs you have on Ra’aba’s fate.”
That was the Inniora she knew! Hualiama turned to Chago. “Unlock Inniora’s cell and please, don’t kneel. It’s not necessary.”
“Right now, you are the twin suns rising above the Onyx Throne,” rumbled Chago, rushing to do Lia’s bidding, “and I am at your command, my lady. We have other Palace soldiers ready to rise against Ra’aba. Only say the word. We will