“Ahlan . . .” She cleared her throat. “I’m here, can you hear me?”
“Life is full of moments of clarity,” Chalen said in a weak voice. “And I know you are having one now. You will go and retrieve my beloved for me. When you return, you will find that your brother is released into your custody. Both of you will be free to go, all debts settled.”
Tears welled, but she did not let them fall as she looked up at the conqueror. “I can’t trust you.”
“Of course you can. When I tell you that I will kill your brother if you deny me, I mean it. And further, I swear to you that I will also take you into my custody, whereupon you will find that although the males who are my private guard lack vocal cords, they are otherwise fully functioning. When they are through with you, if there is anything left to kill, I will feed you to my dogs. I only serve the masculine meat to my guards.”
Down below, Ahlan twitched and struggled to lift his head. When that wasn’t possible, he turned it where it hung, a single bloodshot eye peering up at Ahmare. His cracked lips moved, and a tear escaped, dripping off the bridge of his broken nose.
I’m sorry, he seemed to mouth.
That image of him as a newborn young in her arms returned to her, and Ahmare saw him as he had once been a lifetime ago, chubby-cheeked, rosy, and warm . . . safe . . . as he looked at her with myopic, loving eyes.
“I’m going to get you out,” she heard herself say. “Just hang on a little longer . . . and I’ll get you out of here.”
“Good,” Chalen announced as the panel began to reshut. “Well done.”
Ahlan started to struggle, legs flopping in panic. “Help me . . . Ahmare!”
She leaned further down. “I’ll be back soon! I promise—I love you—”
The arena was closed off and she shut her eyes briefly. Down below, her brother’s screams were muffled, an echo of terror that nonetheless resonated loud as a jet engine in her chaotic head.
The conqueror grunted as he struggled to get his frail body off his throne. The robed female with the electronic voice box materialized beside him, holding out a gold cane. She did not touch him, but let him get to the vertical on his own.
“Come,” he said. “You must put some travel behind you before the dawn arrives if you are to succeed. Your brother will receive no more attention from my males, but neither will we render him medical aid. It would be such a shame for you to lose him through the failing of his natural processes while you ponder the inevitable.”
Goddamn you, Ahlan, she thought. I told you that there was no such thing as easy money.
Yet she could not be angry at him. Not until she saved him and nursed him back to health.
“And as a show of good faith,” Chalen said with his jagged-toothed smile, “I will provide you with a weapon to ensure your safety and the success of your endeavors.”
3
THE CASTLE’S SUBTERRANEAN LEVEL was a maze of stone corridors, all damp and lit with torches, following the Igor decor scheme. There was no air underground as far as Ahmare could tell, not that she expected ventilation or comfort in a place that didn’t have electricity and was run by a madman who’d made it literally impossible for his subordinates to argue with him.
In front of her, Chalen traveled on a pallet that was held aloft by four guards, one on each corner, the quartet walking in perfect coordination like a team of carriage horses. From time to time, the conqueror coughed, as if the subtle sway—or perhaps the mold on the walls and the rat poop on the floor—irritated his airways.
Ahmare kept track of every left and each right, and all the straightaways in between, constructing a 3-D map in her mind of the compound.
“So you keep your guns and ammo in an armory,” she muttered. “Or is it more like a bunker.”
“I have many things I do not allow others to be privy to.”
“Lucky me.”
“You are most fortunate, it is true.”
The procession stopped, and a rock panel slid back to reveal another long hallway. This one was unlit, however, and there was a scent to it that was . . . not the same.
“Proceed,” Chalen ordered. “And take a torch.”
“You’re going to let me pick what I want?” she said dryly. “What if I take more than one gun?”
What if she took an entire arsenal, doubled back, and killed the motherfucker right here and now?
Amazing how completely unsqueamish she was at that thought.
“There is only one. You will take what has been given to you and you will be off on your endeavors, to return with what is mine so that you may leave with what is yours.”
“Yeah, I remember the deal.” She faced the conqueror. “But you haven’t told me where I’m going. Or how I’ll recognize the female.”
“It will all be obvious to you. And if it is not, well, that bodes badly for your brother.”