Word of Traitors: Legacy of Dhakaan - Book 2 (47 page)

“Ashi! It’s me!”

Ekhaas’s voice. Ashi jerked back. The guard beneath her pushed her hands away and narrowed his eyes in concentration. Ghostlight flickered and the illusion vanished, revealing Ekhaas’s familiar face. Ashi stared at her in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

“Senen sent me a message. I’m rescuing you!”

“There’s a lot of that happening.” Ashi jumped up and helped Ekhaas stand. The few remaining prisoners in the large cells were staring out at them. Midian was staring too. The gnome stood in an archway of another, darker corridor, the one that led, Ashi guessed, to the lower level of the dungeon. “Midian beat you to it. Come with
us—Geth and Tenquis are being held below.” She grabbed Ekhaas’s hand to drag her along.

The
duur’kala
resisted. “The real Geth?

“You know about the changeling?”

“Aruget told Senen.”

Aruget had gotten around. Ashi wondered where he was now. “It’s the real Geth.” She dropped her voice as she drew Ekhaas across to the dark corridor, and murmured the story the gnome had told her. “He didn’t know Geth was with Tenquis. I’ve heard screams. I think Tariic’s been torturing Geth to find out where he hid the rod. Will you be able to heal him if he needs it?”

Ekhaas’s ears flicked back. She gave Midian a long look. “I’ll try,” she said.

“You don’t need to,” said Midian. “I brought healing potions.”

“You knew Geth had been tortured?” asked Ekhaas.

“I guessed,” Midian said. “Him or Ashi.”

“Wait!” cried a voice in Goblin. Ashi turned to see a hobgoblin’s face thrust against the bars of a cell door. “Free us!” he hissed.

A soft babble of pleas for release joined his. The other prisoners had finally figured out what was going on. Maybe they didn’t speak the human tongue. Ashi glanced at Ekhaas and Midian. Both of them shook their heads, Midian instantly, Ekhaas after a moment’s consideration.

The first prisoner’s face turned hard. “Let us out or we call the guards. There’s a dozen of them below!”

“If we let them go,” Ekhaas said in the human language, “they’ll cause chaos in Khaar Mbar’ost. People will notice the escape. We’ll be found either way.”

The hobgoblin prisoner looked angry. He might not have understood the language of humans but he must have read their meaning in Ekhaas’s expression. His voice rose into a shout. “Guards! Escape!
Escape!”

Other prisoners joined in, the din echoing in the dungeon. A moment later, the sound of rapid footsteps rose up the stairs from the lower level.

“Khyberit ghentis!”
Ashi raised her stolen sword and turned to the stairs just as a hobgoblin guard emerged from them. His eyes landed on her and Ekhaas and widened.

But Midian was waiting. He dived between the guard’s legs and the guard went crashing to the ground. Ekhaas leaped to his aid but Midian was already on his feet and jamming another glass spike into the guard’s neck. Ashi whirled on the prisoner who had started the commotion. He tried to pull back but she pushed her hand through the bars, grabbed the front of his shirt, and jerked him forward. Hard.

“Do that again,” she snarled, “and you’ll die before you face the Valenar!”

She let him drop. The other prisoners fell back from the cell doors.

Ekhaas was looking down the stairs, her ears pricked forward. “There’s no one else coming,” she said. “Only one guard?”

Ashi glanced into the cell. “Where are all the guards?” she asked in Goblin.

“Tuuk was bluffing,” answered one of the prisoners tremulously. “There were never that many and those there were left a while ago. Tariic led them out.”

Ashi didn’t like the sound of that. She turned away, pushed past Midian, and trotted down the stairs to another corridor. There was light at the bottom, but no sound. On the left and right were doors like those of the cells above, small barred windows set in heavy wood. At the end of the corridor was a larger, even heavier door.

The floor of the corridor was streaked with smeared trails of dried blood connecting the cell doors with the heavy door at the end. Ashi’s gut knotted. Her hand tightened on the sword.

Ekhaas touched her arm and pointed. Only one of the cell doors was closed and barred. Ashi crept closer. Through the barred window, she could hear a strangely pathetic sound. A soft, whimpering growl. But the cell was too deeply shadowed for her to see anything. Midian nudged her and held out a tiny everbright lantern, even smaller than the one that had been lost on the roof. She opened it only slightly and held it up to the window.

The cold, magical light fell on Geth’s curled and trembling form. He lay on his side, facing the door. He’d drawn his shirt over himself like a thin blanket. Where it gaped open, Ashi could see big patches of bare skin amid the thick hair of the shifter’s torso and arms. The hair had been burned away. The flesh beneath was
ravaged by healed and healing scars. She directed the light to his face, frightened at what she might find.

Dirty. Haggard. But intact. Her heart skipped and her breath came sharp.

As if he’d heard it, Geth’s eyes snapped open, shining like an animal’s. The growl rose sharply and he pulled back, rolling up into a crouch. “Geth!” Ashi said. “Geth! It’s us!”

He jerked. “Ashi!” He jumped to his feet and charged at the door, sharp teeth bared. “Let me out! They’ve taken Tenquis!”

Ashi dropped the lantern to the floor and dragged at the heavy bolts that held the door. Geth stood on the other side, shaking the door and making the job harder. The thick nails of his fingers gouged at the wood. His eyes were very wide, the pupils as large and dark as a madman’s. Ashi could smell sweat, blood, and burned flesh on him. His savage growl rumbled and broke.

She pulled the last bolt just as he slammed especially hard against the door. It burst open, throwing her back into Ekhaas and Midian. Geth didn’t even glance at them, but just hurled himself down the corridor to the heavy door. He hit the door with a muscular shoulder and whatever latch held it closed on the other side tore right out of the frame. Running after him, Ashi caught a glimpse into the room beyond—

Shadows in deep corners. Dim, ruddy light glinting on sharp metal. A pale goblin jerking away from an angled table to which a dark-skinned tiefling was bound, arms and legs outstretched. Blood dripping from the table and pooling on the floor under it.

—then Geth slammed the door behind himself. A bestial roar rattled the broken wood. Metal crashed on stone. There was a hiss like hot coals spilled into water and a sudden, awful stench, then a thin, wordless cry.

Geth didn’t look at Tenquis—at what had been done to the tiefling—a second time. Flayed skin, glistening muscle, and exposed bone slid through his mind but the images were buried in the hot fury that fell over him. Fury at what Tenquis had suffered. Fury at what
he
had suffered.

His charge into the room had sent a brazier crashing to the ground. Blood on the floor quenched the hot coals, raising a haze of stinking smoke. The torturer cried out and tried to flee into the depths of the chamber but Geth’s hand closed on his skinny neck. The shifter whirled him off his feet and slammed him hard into the stained boards of an upright rack.

His free hand groped for and found one of the torturer’s knives. With another roar, he drove it through the pale goblin’s shoulder and into the wood beneath. The impact jolted his hand. The goblin cried out against the grip that strangled him, his pain as wordless as Geth’s rage. Another knife went into his other shoulder, sharp blade grating on bone, and Geth released his hold on the goblin’s throat, seized his hand, and wrenched his arm out against the board. The goblin struggled and flailed, but Geth ignored his kicks and flapping arm. He grabbed a third knife. The goblin’s fingers clenched convulsively. Geth punched the blade through them and into the board, and jabbed a fist into the torturer’s belly before forcing his other hand out and impaling it too.

Pinned on the rack, the goblin squirmed and flopped. His heels and the back of his head beat against the wood. His screaming mouth stretched so wide Geth could see the ragged root of his tongue.

Rage threatened to give way to disgust, but memories of agony twisted in him. Vengeance for himself—for Tenquis—rose to choke him. The torturer became Tariic.

Hot fury turned cold as death. One of the irons the goblin had used to burn him lay on the floor, smoking in Tenquis’s blood. The metal was still hot enough to sting Geth’s hand when he picked it up.

He didn’t think the struggling goblin even saw him as he brought the heavy end of the iron down on his head. The screaming stopped after the first blow, but Geth beat the iron against the torturer’s skull until bone cracked and sagged like a half-empty wineskin. Then he turned away, hurled the bloody iron across the chamber, and raised his voice.

“Ekhaas!”

Ashi caught the handle of the door at the first heavy impact of body against wood and would have thrown it open if Midian hadn’t caught her arm.

“Don’t,” he said. His face was pale.

“Get off me!” Ashi spat at him, but Ekhaas seized her shoulders and dragged her back.

“No,” she said. Her ears pressed against her head. “He’s right. Let Geth do what he needs to do.”

Ashi still strained toward the door. “Geth!
Geth!”

The thin wail continued, punctuated by short thumps and Geth’s terrible snarls, only to end abruptly with the wet, pulpy crack of breaking bone. There was a clatter of metal. Geth’s snarl faded into a guttural groan—then rose in a call. “Ekhaas!”

The hobgoblin raced to the door and pushed it open. She froze in the doorway for a moment before she stepped through and swiftly closed it after herself. This time the only thing Ashi glimpsed was Geth standing at Tenquis’s side.

She heard him, though. His words were hoarse. “What can you do for him?”

Ekhaas didn’t answer immediately, but then she said, “I’ll need a knife.”

And she started to sing. The song was soft and soothing, with echoes of energy to it. Ashi could hear Geth’s voice through it, murmuring something that might be comfort and encouragement—until another voice, Tenquis’s, leaped high in a wail before trailing back into a series of sobs. Ekhaas kept singing.

Midian gave Ashi a nudge and put a flask into her hand. “Drink?” he asked quietly. Ashi nodded and lifted the flask, though she didn’t drink from it. She could only stare at the closed door. Fabric tore in the room beyond and she could imagine a shirt or a cloak being shredded for bandages. Midian bumped her elbow, reminding her of the flask in her hand. She raised it again.

A hand came past her and plucked it from her grasp.

She whirled around, drawing her sword as she turned, to find Aruget putting the flask to his lips. The disguised changeling paused, unflinching in spite of the sword at his belly. “Don’t let your guard down,” he said, lowering the flask untasted. “You’re not out of danger yet.”

Heart racing, Ashi returned her sword to its sheath. “I could have killed you.”

“I could have killed
you.”
His ears flicked. “You’ve already been rescued.”

“Twice. Vounn told me you’d be coming but Midian, then Ekhaas, got here first.”

“I had to stop for something.” Aruget swung a sack from his shoulder and opened it so she could peer inside. Peeking out from among the muffling folds of a cloak were Geth’s great gauntlet and the hilt of Wrath. “I knew Geth wouldn’t leave without them. Tariic had them displayed as trophies in his quarters. He’ll miss them. We need to be gone before he does.”

“You knew Geth was here too?”

“I investigated.” He looked at Midian and nodded in cool greeting.
“Saa.”

The gnome’s eyes narrowed. His lips pressed tight together. Ashi could guess what he was thinking. “None of us would be here if we hadn’t left Midian on the roof with Makka,” she told Aruget. “He made a deal to save his life. You owe him an apology.”

“He didn’t have to make a deal.” His ears pressed back. “He could have given up his life to save three.”

“And you’d do that?” Midian asked.

“Mazo.”
Aruget’s eyes stayed on Midian but he turned his face toward Ashi. “I told you he’d be able to care of himself, didn’t I?”