Things were in place and if she managed the final item on her checklist, freedom loomed ahead.
Saedra cracked her door open and peered through the hall. Empty. Steps light, she pressed her back to the wall. After checking both ways, she made her way toward the rear stairs at the opposite end of the hall which led to the front atrium and kitchen. Shadows danced and melded into eerie shapes on the wall with each flicker from the glow of the wall lamps.
Nerves strung tight, she pushed out a soothing breath and inhaled in the same calming manner. She needed to use her hand on the scarred railing to make her way down, down, down. No one used these stairs. Not after her mother had fallen to her death in this exact space thirteen years ago when her father flung her away from him in anger.
Her pulse stuttered from the memory, but Saedra pressed on. Using this way guaranteed her an unnoticed way into her father’s dungeons. She took a sharp turn at the landing. There was a door to her left. It led to a path at the front of the house and her father’s large office.
Directly ahead was a dark archway but no door to bar the way into the dungeon. Steeling herself, Saedra launched a stealthy pace down these stairs as well. Once she reached the bottom, she strained her ears for any sounds. Silence. Licking her lips and swallowing through the growing lump in her throat, she crept forward.
From where she stood, there was a long row of cells on each side of a hall that stretched before her. They all had bars on the front and were walled on the sides to prevent the occupants from seeing anyone coming or going. No lights shone from within any of them. Darkness hindered her visibility as she eased deeper into the dungeon.
Empty. Empty. Empty.
Her heart kicked up a notch as she passed the fourth empty cell and stopped. Where was he? He had to be here. The guards spoke of the prisoner often and this was the only place her father would have considered safe enough to contain someone as dangerous as belonging to the Guild.
Saedra crept further along, down the length of the hall. Just when she’d convinced herself she was wrong and that he wasn’t here, she saw the prisoner. Sitting in the corner of the last cell with one leg stretched out and one leg bent at the knee was the man her father had imprisoned through sheer luck and a bit of betrayal.
The dark shadows hid his face, but the guards talked. She knew exactly who this was. His reputation proceeded him and she trembled at what she was about to do. The risk was great but what was her other choice? Death? Marriage to a cruel man who would surely kill her with no fear of retribution?
No, Saedra wasn’t a quitter, she was a fighter. Every credit she managed to stash, every night she went hungry was finally paying off. This wasn’t reckless on her part.
Her gaze never strayed from the lone occupant in the cell. A killer. An assassin. Head tipped back against the wall and eyes closed, he didn’t glance up when she pulled out the keys she’d stolen. Her fingers held tight to the square chips to keep the metal from clinking together. If she did this, if she opened the door and followed through on this, there would be no turning back.
Be sure, Saedra, she almost heard her mother’s voice caution her. She’d planned this moment every step of the way and would succeed, damn it.
One after the other, Saedra inserted each key chip into the slot, her heart racing against the clock in her head. She kept glancing behind her as fear dictated speed. What if she’d stolen the wrong keys?
On the very last one, fingers trembling, she shoved the square key into the lock and bit her lip to hold in a cry of relief when the mechanism clicked and the latch opened.
“Hello?” she whispered as she hovered at the door of the tiny dank space.
No answer. No movement.
Skin drawn painfully tight, Saedra eased inside and closed the bar-covered door behind her. It wouldn’t do if her father’s men discovered her here. None of them respected Saedra and she wasn’t sure her father would bother keeping them in line anymore.
“Don’t let him be dead,” she found herself pleading in a whisper.
When she drew abreast of the slumped figure, her breath stalled. This close, his smell slammed into her—unwashed, sweat and festering wounds somewhere.
“Blessed gods above.” Saedra dropped to her knees beside his still figure, skirts pooling about her legs. She reached out to his face and pressed her fingers below his nostrils. The puffs of air reassured that he hadn’t died. Yet.
Her gaze drifted over his form. His condition was indeed precarious. The all black outfit he wore was torn and stained. The odor emanating from his body also attested to the lack of bathing during his captivity. How long he’d been in here, she wasn’t sure. A week, maybe two. At least that’s when she’d discovered one of the most skilled members of the Assassin Guild was an unwilling guest of her father.
“Sir? Sir?!” Saedra reached up to tap his jaw and he caught her wrist in a brutal grip. She gasped at suddenness of the action.
Blazing eyes as gray as molten steel met hers. Despite his apparent beaten state he wasn’t completely done. Thank the gods. There was still fight in him. A core of strength he would need if they were to get out of here together. But first, she needed confirmation he was who she sought.
“Garik? Are you Garik?” she questioned urgently.
He didn’t release her wrist when she tugged. For a brief minute, she considered the wisdom of her decision. Members of the Assassins Guild were part feared and part revered for how they maintained order in the lawless wasteland of the criminal underground.
They worked behind the scenes on the not quite legal end of things. The Alliance unofficially gave them tacit approval because the Guild took care of the riffraff raising havoc in space. Those caught blatantly doing egregious actions often had an order sent out for the Guild to terminate your existence. Everyone else avoided them because to draw their attention usually meant a death warrant was out for you.
One of the most feared of that organization was the man in front of her. Saedra had heard numerous rumors about him. Enough to give her a healthy fear of him.
Hopefully, it was true—every ruthless, terrifying whisper. It was the only reason she was taking such a chance. If he was indeed the infamous Garik Denikon, then he was the key to her own escape and freedom.
It wasn’t a light decision. Nothing in her life could afford to be. Once she had started making her preparations, it was clear she wouldn’t be able to manage her getaway on her own. She’d thought long and hard over the last two days about incorporating the assassin in her plan.
“Who are you?” His voice was a rough rasp that caressed even as it heightened her awareness of the danger present inside the cell.
“I am Saedra.”
There was no worry he’d connect her identity to her father. Maurin didn’t exactly boast of his only child to anyone and those here wouldn’t speak out of turn because loose tongues led to loose heads. She was worthless as far as he was concerned for not displaying any of the special gifts he’d thought his wife would pass down to her, not to mention his own Dragonian heritage. Although there was the upcoming forced marriage he sought to bind her to.
Garik licked cracked lips before asking in a shaky voice, “What do you want? Why are you here?”
Despite the grip on her wrist, Garik was weak and struggled to speak. She had to strain to hear each bitten off question which caused her to hesitate to answer. The fingers about her tightened at the delay, pinching her skin and Saedra winced. His gaze dropped to their joined hands. Her fingers brushed instinctively, touching the purpling bruises on the back of his hand. She felt him flinch from the touch and suddenly her wrist was dropped as he fell back against the grimy wall.