Thealos sat in the main holding cell at the head of the hall. He could hear other prisoners in cells further down, locked behind huge iron doors. The door on his cell was made of long iron bars, fastened together at the top and bottom with steel slats. The hinges were rusty and made a grating screech when the soldiers had opened the door. Torchfire sputtered outside in the corridor, and without any windows he was unable to tell whether it was noon or dusk. Twice since he had been locked up, the Bandits had brought in other people, chained them to the wall near him, and then returned later to take them to another cell. He was alone at the moment, but he could hear the others. Some muttered and grumbled. One man, far down the hall, hadn’t stopped whimpering since Thealos arrived.
Sitting in the shadows of the holding cell, Thealos thought about his encounter with Tsyrke Phollen. He remembered it over and over, wondering what else he could have said. He wasn’t sure whether they intended to kill him or not. Fear bloomed inside him again and he loathed the feeling. He was weary of his fears and shoved it down inside himself. He was alive at the moment. If they had wanted him dead right away, there was nothing to stop it. He visited the conversation again in his mind. Tsyrke’s words had been plainly spoken: Maybe I’m counting on that. Had he meant it only as a threat? That they intended to kill him in order to lure the Shae down into the Shoreland? Or was it something to cow him and make him more willing to bend and tell them what they wanted to know? Thealos shook his head in the darkness. They knew about the Silverkin. Well, they didn’t know what it was, but they knew something was there. A wry smile crossed his mouth. He was hoping that they would send him in after it. Did they know that the Otsquare prevented any human from passing into the chamber? They would not be able to follow him in. Better still, if he could only manage to slip out of the cell, he knew he would be safe within the warding. But how? How was he going to get that far?
Thealos’ stomach grumbled with hunger. How long had it been since he’d eaten? He remembered the savory food at the Catpaw and wished he had finished eating all of the stew in the trencher bowl. He was fearful – who wouldn’t be in his place? – but he’d manage to skirt trouble all the way from Avisahn. Granted, having Jaerod as a protector did have something to do with that.
A roach roamed across the floor in front of him and he crushed it under the heel of his boot. He missed Jaerod. He thought back on the flash of lightning coming from a clear night sky. No rain, no storm. Just a single streak of crackling white. He hoped against hope that the Sleepwalker had somehow survived, even though he no longer felt that prick of awareness, that second sense whenever he was nearby. If anyone could face a Sorian and make it through alive, Jaerod could. He wished he knew for certain whether Jaerod had.
The door at the end of the hall opened and the sound of marching steps came down the corridor. Another prisoner? Thealos could hear the clinking of chains. He didn’t have any idea how long he’d been locked away. Was it morning yet? Had the Bandit army reached the walls of the city?
A group of guards shoved Sturnin Goff down the way.
Thealos nearly blurted out the knight’s name, but he caught himself. He sat up quickly, coming into the light so the knight could see him.
Sturnin Goff noticed him, but he also kept silent. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand, but not before making a quick gesture to Thealos not to say a word. The guard stopped and stared into the holding cell.
Thealos kept his expression blank and his eyes fixed on the guards, not Sturnin.
The guardsman hesitated a moment and then withdrew a ring of keys and unlocked the door leading to the holding cell. Four of them muscled the knight inside and locked him to a ring on the other wall. Brushing off their hands, they left, locking the door once again. Howls for food started up as soon as the soldiers continued down the hall.
“Well, you are the last man I expected to find down here,” Thealos whispered in amazement after the soldiers had left.
Sturnin settled down on the floor with a slump. “I didn’t banned expect to find you here either,” he answered. “When were you caught?”
“That depends,” Thealos replied. “I don’t know whether it’s day or night. I’ve been in the tunnels since the morning after we lost you.”
The knight nodded. “That would have been this morning. Sunset was an hour ago.”
Thealos looked at him seriously. “Where are the others?”
“Faring better than we are, I hope. Allavin and the Drugaen went looking for you two. Where’s the other Shae?”
“They took him to another cell.” He nodded vaguely down the hall. “I think he’s alive, though. And Ticastasy?”
“They’ve probably got her by now too. When we came to the gates, I sent her ahead to an inn Allavin told us about. They’ll probably have some Kiran Thall in disguise waiting to drag in anyone else who comes along.” He shook his head angrily. “Banned foolish of me. Banned foolish.”
“It’s probably too late to point out that the Bandits control the city, isn’t it?” Thealos said it with an ironic edge to his voice. The knight nodded, festering with anger. “Don’t worry yourself, Sturnin Goff. There is no way you could have known.”