The Emerald Storm (The Riyria Revelations #4)

The Tur Del Fur City Prison and Workhouse sat back, hidden on a hillside away from the dock, the shops, and the trades. It appeared as little more than a large, stone box at the end of Avan Boulevard with few windows and a spiked iron fence. Hadrian and Royce both knew it by reputation. Most offenders typically died within the first week due to execution, suicide, or brutality. The magistrate’s role was merely to determine the manner of execution. Parole was not an option. Only those known to be serious threats came here. Petty thieves, drunks, and malcontents went to the more popular and lenient Portside Jail. For those in Tur Del Fur Prison, this was the end of the road, literally as well as figuratively.

Royce and Hadrian hung by their wrists with their ankles chained to the wall of cell number three, where they had spent the last few hours. The room was smaller than those in Calis. There was no window, stool, nor pot—not even straw. It was a sml, stone closet with a single metal door. The only light came from the gap between the door and the frame.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hadrian said to the darkness.

“I’m trying to figure this out,” Royce replied.

“Figure it out?” Hadrian laughed even though his arms and wrists burned like fire from the metal cutting into his skin. “We’re hanging chained to a wall waiting execution, Royce. There’s not that much to it.”

“Not that. I want to know why we didn’t find anything wrong with the spouts.”

“Because there’s a million levers and switches in there and we were looking for just one?”

“I don’t think so. When we got to the bridge what was it you said? You said you didn’t think anyone except I could scale that fortress. I think you’re right. I know Merrick couldn’t. He’s a genius, not an elf. I always outdid him when it came to anything physical.”

“So?”

“So, a thought has been nagging me since they brought us here. How could Merrick get into Drumindor to sabotage it?”

“He figured another way in.”

“We spent weeks trying to do that, remember?”

“Maybe he bribed someone on the inside, or maybe he paid someone to break in.”

“Who?” Royce thought a minute. “This is too important to trust to someone who might be able to do it—he would need someone he knew could do it.”

“But how do you know someone can do something until they’ve actually—” Hadrian stopped himself as the realization hit. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Throughout this whole thing we’ve been following two letters, both written by Merrick. The first we thought was intercepted and delivered to Alric, but what if it was intentionally sent to him? Everyone knows we work for Melengar.”

“Which led us to the Emerald Storm,” Hadrian said.

“Right. Where we got the next letter—the one to be delivered to that crazy Tenkin in the jungle, and it just happened to mention that Drumindor was set to blow.”

“I’m not liking where this is heading,” Hadrian muttered.

“And what if Merrick knew about the master gear?”

“That’s impossible. Gravis is dead. Crushed, as I recall, under one of those big gears.”

“Yes. He is dead, but Lord Byron isn’t. He probably boasted about how he saved Drumindor by hiring two no account thieves.”

“It still seems too perfect,” Hadrian tried to convince himself. “In retrospect sure, it sounds like the pieces fall into place, but there are too many things that could have gone wrong along the way.”

“Right. That’s why he had someone on board the Storm making sure it all worked—Derning. Did you see the way he took off the moment we hit dock? He knew what was coming and wanted to get away.”

“I should have let you kill him.”

Silence.

“You’re nodding, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Bastard,” Hadrian grumbled.

“You know the worst thing?”

“I’ve got a pretty long list of bad things right now, and I’m not sure which one I would put on top. So, I’ll bite.”

“We did exactly what Merrick couldn’t do himself. He used us to disarm Drumindor.”

“So, he never sabotaged anything. That would explain why Gile laughed when I told him Drumindor was going to explode. He knew it wasn’t. Merrick promised he would have it intact. Merrick’s a bloody genius.”

“I think I mentioned that, once or twice.”

“So, now what?” Hadrian asked.

“Now, nothing. He’s beaten us. He’s sitting somewhere with a warm cup of cider smiling smugly with his feet up on the pile of money he’s just been paid.”

“We have to warn them to re-engage the master gear.”

“Go ahead.”

Hadrian began shouting until the little observation door opened flooding the cell with light.

“We need to speak to someone. It’s important.”

“What is it?”

“We realized the mistake we made. We were tricked. You need to tell the commander at Drumindor that we locked the master gear. We can show him where it is and how to release it.

“You two never stop, do you? I’m not sure if you’re really saboteurs or just plain nuts. One thing’s for certain, we’re going to find out how you got in, and then we’re going to kill you.”

The observation door closed casting them back into darkness.

“That worked out really well,” Royce pointed out. “Feel better now?”

“Bastard,” Hadrian repeated.





Chapter 24

The Escape


Arista stayed in the corner of the stable, wrapped in Hilfred’s arms most of the night. He stroked her hair, and from time to time without any particular reason, kissed her passion ately. It felt safe and lying there, Arista realized two things. First, she was certain she could be content remaining in his arms forever. And Second, she was not in love with Hilfred.

He was a good friend, a piece of home she missed so dearly that she drank him in with a desert-born thirst, but something was missing. She thought it strange she came to this conclusion while in his arms. Yet she knew it with perfect clarity. She did not love Hilfred and she had not loved Emery. Hilfred was the big brother she had grown up with, and Emery she had barely known. She was not even certain what love was, what it should feel like, or if it existed at all.

Noblewomen rarely knew the men they married before their wedding day. Perhaps they grew to love their husbands in time, or merely grew to believe they did. At least she knew Hilfred loved her. He loved enough for both of them. She could feel it radiating off him like warmth from smoldering coals. He deserved happiness after so long, after so much sacrifice; she would make it up to him. She would return to Melengar and marry him. She would make him Archduke Reuben Hilfred. She laughed softly at the thought.

“What?”

“I just remembered your first name is Reuben.”

Hilfred laughed then pointed to his face. “I look like this, and you’re making fun of my name?”