“Wait here,” Royce said, slipping out.
He was gone for several minutes. They heard no sound. When he returned, Poe, Derning, Grady, Dilladrum, and the Vintu followed. Royce had blood on his dagger and a ring of keys in his hand.
“What about the others?” Wesley asked.
“Don’t worry, I won’t forget about them,” Royce said with a devilish grin. When he left, the others followed. A guard lay dead in a pool of blood and Royce was already at the door of the last cell.
“We don’t need to be released,” Defoe said from behind the door. “I could open it myself if I wanted to get out.”
“I’m not here to let you out,” Royce said, opening the door.
Bernie backed up and drew his dagger.
“Stay out of this, Bernie,” Royce told him. “So far you’ve just been doing a job. I get that, but stand between me and Thranic and it gets personal.”
“Seaman Melborn!” Wesley snapped. “I can’t let you kill Mr. Thranic.”
Royce ignored him and Wesley appealed to Hadrian, who shrugged in response. “It’s a policy of mine not to get in his way, especially when the other guy deserves it.”
Wesley turned to Wyatt, whose expression showed no compassion. “He burned a shipload of elves and, for all I know, was responsible for taking my daughter. Let him die.”
Dr. Levy stepped aside, leaving Thranic alone at the back of the cell with only his dagger for protection. By his grip and stance, Hadrian knew the sentinel was not a knife fighter. Thranic was sweating, his eyes tense as Royce moved in.
“Might I ask why you’re killing Mr. Thranic?” Bulard asked suddenly, stepping between them. “Those of you intent on fleeing could make better use of your time than butchering a man in his cell, don’t you think?”
“Won’t take but a second,” Royce assured him.
“Perhaps, perhaps, but I’m asking you not to. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve death, but who are you to grant it? Thranic will die, and quite soon, I suspect, given where we’re headed. Regardless, our mission is vital not just to the empire, but to all of mankind, and we’ll need him if we’re to have any hope to complete it.”
“Shut up, you old fool,” the sentinel growled.
This caught Royce’s attention, though he kept his eyes on Thranic. “What mission?”
“To find a very old and very important relic called the Horn of Gylindora that will be needed very soon, I’m afraid.”
“The horn?” Hadrian repeated.
“Yes. Given our precarious situation, I don’t think it wise to give you a history lesson just now, but suffice to say it’s in all of our best interests to leave Thranic alive—for now.”
“Sorry,” Royce replied, “but you’ll just have to make do without—”
The door to the cellblock opened and a pair of soldiers with meal plates stepped in. A quick glance at the dead guard and they ran.
Royce sprinted after them. Bernie quickly closed his cell door again.
“Go, all of you!” Bulard urged.
The party ran out of the cellblock and up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, the hallway was filled with loud voices.
“They got away,” Royce grumbled.
“We gathered that from the shouting,” Hadrian said.
They faced a four-way intersection of identical narrow stone corridors. Wall-mounted flames burned from iron cradles staggered at long intervals, leaving large sections of shifting shadows.
Royce glanced back toward the cellblock and cursed under his breath. “That’s what I get for hesitating.”
“Any idea which way now?” Wyatt asked.
“This way,” Royce said.
He led them at a rapid pace, then stopped abruptly and motioned everyone into a doorway. Moments later a troop of guards rushed by. Wesley started forward and Royce hauled him back. Two more guards passed.
“Now we go,” he told them, “but stay behind me.”
Royce continued along the multitude of corridors and turns, pausing from time to time. They climbed two more sets of stairs and dodged another group of soldiers. Hadrian saw the wonderment reflected in the party’s faces at Royce’s skill. It was as if he could see through walls or knew the location of every guard. For Hadrian it was nothing new, but even he was impressed at their progress, given that Royce was towing a parade.
A door unexpectedly opened and several Tenkins literally bumped into Dilladrum and one of the Vintu. Terrified, Dilladrum fled down a corridor, the Vintu following. The stunned Tenkins were not warriors and were just as scared as Dilladrum. They retreated inside. Royce shouted for Dilladrum to stop, but it was no use.
“Damn it!” Royce cursed, chasing after them. The rest of the crew raced to keep up as they ran blindly through corridor after corridor. Rounding a corner, Hadrian nearly ran into Royce, whose way was blocked by Tenkin warriors. The dead bodies of Dilladrum and the Vintu lay on the floor, blood pooling across the stone. Behind them, a small army cut off their retreat.