“Dead men don’t lock doors, Helen.”
“Guard killer and you know my name? Aren’t you just the epitome of mystery?” The girl laughed and shook her head. Hair that Arianna presumed was once the color of snow hung in dingy, matted chunks around her face. No one ever praised the floating prison for its treatment of inmates.
“Add, ‘the woman who broke you out’ to that list.” Arianna unrolled a strip of tools attached to her hip, setting on the lock. She whistled to herself. “Now, what Rivet built this?”
“A master, I think.” Helen watched in amusement. “Some of the other Rivets here have tried. You have tools, but I don’t know if…”
Arianna tuned her out. The lock had a closed front, no keyhole. All screws and connectors were concealed within, making disassembly difficult. The key slot was thin and flat, which Ari presumed to mean the keys were like cards embedded with a series of notches that depressed tumblers at the opposite end of the lock box.
She had two more explosives on her, but she really didn’t want to waste them. It was likely that she wouldn’t have another opportunity for Florence to restock before they fled into the Underground. And using a bomb assumed it would damage the lock enough to crack it without injuring the prisoner within.
First things first, she had to get into the lock to disengage it. Fortunately for her, this wasn’t a job that required discretion. She ran the pads of her fingers along the seams, searching for a weak point in the welding. The prison’s inners had been exposed to the sea and salt air since its construction in the early days of Ter.4, and if there was one thing metal didn’t like, it was the combination of time, moisture, and salt.
Her nails fell into a hairline groove on the side—a fatigue failure. She went for her thinnest golden tool, driving it into the crack and twisting the flat head, widening the gap. Keeping one pin in place, she reached for a second, repeating the process hastily until the front was halfway off. Unfortunately, the top part of the weld proved to be much stronger.
She needed more leverage.
There was enough space now for her slimmer, sharper dagger to fit. Arianna inwardly winced at the idea of sacrificing the edge of her blade like this and made a mental note to sharpen it later. She twisted it, grunting with the strain. The cover bent just enough for her to get a look under.
It was as she suspected: several pins at different intervals, waiting to be lined up. That was the design flaw. Unlike a normal lock that required pressure on the pins throughout a turn to disengage, this only required the pins to be engaged correctly at the same time for the bolt to be pulled back. Ari could see why it was effective given the circumstances—mostly enclosed design, unique key to discourage people from trying to pick it, unconventionally shaped access to the pins. But once it was cracked, it put up no fight.
“What in the Five Guilds are you, lady?” Helen asked as Arianna pulled open the door.
“Someone who’s looking for a favor from you.”
“Get me out of here, I’ll do anything you want.” The girl grinned, taking Ari’s invitation and strolling out of the cell onto the landing. She took an instinctual breath of air. Though it was chemically no different than what she had been breathing through the bars for two years, Arianna could only suspect that it was a little bit sweeter in that moment.
“I need you to take me through the Underground.”
“Tall order,” the girl hummed.
Ari smirked, admiring her cheekiness. She was negotiating with the woman who had freed her as though it were nothing. “Florence is waiting for you now at its entrance.”
Helen froze. “Flor? She made it?”
Ari nodded. “Now, run down. Head for the tunnel out.”
The girl stared skeptically for one long moment, but she didn’t have many options—linger and be jailed again, or flee and trust Arianna at face value. Ari greatly appreciated that she was the sensible type. As Helen ran, Ari hooked herself into the bars and jumped over the ledge down to the landing below.
She ignored the calls of inmates pleading for their freedom. There were real criminals mixed among those who had been jailed for failing to follow the Dragon King’s mandates, and she had no record of who was who. For all she loathed the Dragons, Ari wouldn’t spite them at the risk of putting someone actually dangerous back on the streets of Loom.
Helen was slow, and by the time she had made it around the large loop of the walkway Ari had finished unlocking the door of Will’s cell, explaining the same overview of the situation in the process. They were just starting down when the explosion she’d been waiting for rattled the enclosed hall below, blowing out chunks of stone and cement. Dust plumed skyward and Ari looked for a certain blue shadow to emerge from its curtain.
Coughing, Cvareh didn’t disappoint her.