“We’ll help you get out,” says Dee in a sing-song cadence.
I stop. My brain runs through half a dozen scenarios based on what he just said.
“We can get the keys to your cell.”
“We can distract the guards.”
“We can make sure no one checks on you until morning.”
“One fight, that’s all we ask.”
I turn to look at them. “Why would you risk treason for a mud fight?”
“You have no idea how much I’d risk for an honest-to-God mud fight between two hot women,” says Dee.
“It’s not really treason anyway,” says Dum. “Obi’s gonna let you go, it’s just a matter of timing. We’re not here to keep human prisoners. He’s overemphasizing your risk to us.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because he wants to recruit you and that guy you came with. Obi’s an only child, and he doesn’t understand,” says Dee. “He thinks keeping you around for a few days will get you to change your mind about leaving us.”
“But we know better. A few days of singing patriotic songs ain’t going to convince you to abandon your sister,” says Dum.
“Got that right, brother,” says Dee.
They touch fists in a fist bump. “Damn straight.”
I look at them. They really do understand. They’d never leave each other behind. Maybe I have a genuine ally. “Do I really have to do this silly fight to get your help?”
“Oh, yeah,” says Dee. “No question.” They both grin at me like mischievous little boys.
“How do you know all this stuff? About my sister? What Obi’s thinking?”
“It’s our job,” says Dum. “Some people call us Dee-Dum. Other people call us Spy Masters.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down dramatically.
“Okay, Spymaster Dee-Dum, what did my friend bet on the fight?” It doesn’t matter of course, but I still want to know.
“Interesting.” Dee arches his brow in a knowing fashion. “Of all the things you could have asked when you found out we deal in information, you pick that one.”
My cheeks warm despite the frozen peas on my jaw. I try not to look like I wish I could take back my question. “What are you, in kindergarten? Just tell me already.”
“He bet that you’d last in the ring for at least seven minutes.” Dum rubs his freckled cheek. “We all thought he was crazy.” Seven minutes is a long, long time to get hammered by giant fists.
“Not crazy enough,” says Dee. His smile is so boyish and pre-disaster that it’s almost possible to forget we live in a world gone mad. “He should have bet that you’d win. He woulda raked it in. Man, the odds were so far against you.”
“I bet he could take down Boden in two minutes,” says Dum. “That guy’s got bad-ass written all over him.”
“Ninety seconds, flat,” says Dee.
I’ve seen Raffe fight. My bet would be on ten seconds, assuming Boden didn’t have a rifle like he did the night he caught us. But I don’t say that. Doesn’t make me feel any better that he didn’t jump in to play the hero.
“Get us out tonight and you’ve got a deal,” I say.
“Tonight’s awfully short notice,” says Dee.
“Maybe if you could promise you’ll rip Anita’s shirt off…” Dum gives me his little boy smile.
“Don’t push your luck.”
Dee holds up a slim leather case and dangles it like bait. “How about a bonus for ripping her shirt off?”
My hands fly to my pants pocket where my lock picking set should be. My pocket is flat and empty. “Hey, that’s mine!” I make a grab for it but it disappears from Dee’s hand. I hadn’t seen him move. “How’d you do that?”
“Now you see it,” says Dum, waving the case. How it got from Dee to Dum I have no idea. They’re standing next to each other but still, I should have seen something. Then it’s gone again. “Now you don’t.”
“Give it back, now, you thieving bastards. Or the whole thing’s off.”
Dum gives Dee a sad clown face. Dee arches his brow in a comic expression.
“Fine,” Dee sighs. He hands me back my lock picking set. This time, I was watching for it, but I still didn’t see it moving from Dum to Dee. “Tonight it is.”
Dee-Dum flash identical grins at me.
I shake my head and stomp off before they can steal any more of my things.
CHAPTER 20
My back snaps, crackles, and pops as I try to stand straight. It’s dusk, and my work day is almost over. I put my hand on the small of my back, my body craning slowly to straighten like an ancient crone.