Not my best day, he decided.
The pitcher was boneware, a hard, glassy pottery suitable for his purpose. He picked a nicely jagged shard and sawed against the cords. For a moment the mimetic strands tightened, then began to fray. His heart leaped when the cord sprang free of his wrists and wriggled on the floor like a headless lizard. A few cuts more, and his right hand was loose, then his feet.
Eladamri tried to stand, but found his abused knees wouldn't let him. He sat on the floor, free but too hurt to walk.
He tied pieces of cord together and used it to bind an iron to his left leg as a splint. Using the table for support, he managed to stand. He grabbed the cup on the table and prepared to down the contents, but when it neared his lips his nose detected an acrid odor. Poison. Meant for him, no doubt, and here he almost did Greven's job for him!
His meager possessions lay strewn on the table. The only thing he took back was the small wooden fetish he'd carved his last night in the forest. He examined it carefully. It was intact, so he hung it around his neck.
Eladamri found another branding iron with a blunt hook on the end to serve as a weapon. He went to the cell door and found it unlocked. That worried him. Why wasn't he locked in? Was this some kind of elaborate trap so Greven could claim Eladamri was killed "trying to escape?"
A muffled mechanical clangor filtered through the stout walls. Some sort of alarm. That's why Greven had gone. He swiftly made the connection to his young warriors and their mission to destroy the airship. Eladamri did not pray, but he fervently wished his comrades success. The odds were long against them.
He hobbled into the corridor. No one in sight. The conical tower's shape meant the passage ran outboard of the cells, which were arranged around the axis of the tower like slices of pie. As he looked both ways down the vacant corridor, his guerrilla instinct gave him an idea. Never overlook a chance to cause maximum trouble for the enemy!
He went to the next door. It was locked, and the mechanism was protected by a nasty looking flowbot whose jagged jaws encircled the lock. Use the wrong key, or try to fiddle with the device, and your hand could be bitten off.
Eladamri rapped softly on the door. He pressed his ear to the panel and heard shuffling of feet inside. There was a low wicket through which the prisoner was given meals.
He opened the sliding gate and whispered, "Hello? Who's in there? I'm a friend!"
Instead of a voice or a face, a fleshy red tentacle appeared and wrapped itself around Eladamri's leg. A burning sensation started where the thing touched him, and its grip tightened and tightened. He was sorry for whatever beast or freak Volrath had imprisoned, but he wasn't about to lose his leg in a show of sympathy. A few well aimed blows of his iron discouraged the creature, and the tentacle was withdrawn.
The next three doors either were closed on empty cells, or else the occupants didn't feel like responding to Eladamri's summons. At the fifth door he distinctly heard a thin voice talking or singing.
Bending low to the wicket he hissed, "Are you human in there?"
"Are you human out there?" was the sarcastic response.
"I'm a Skyshroud elf, a prisoner as you are. I'll let you out."
No answer. He gingerly inserted the iron into the lock mechanism. Sure enough, the flowbot's jaws snapped shut, deeply indenting the hard iron bar. Eladamri leaned all his weight on the trapped tool, and with a crack, broke the lock without dislodging the flowbot protecting it.
The door opened into the corridor. The smell of filth from inside was overwhelming. Something gray stirred within, and for a second Eladamri thought he'd been tricked by another one of Volrath's monsters. The gray shape became a human form-a gaunt, red-haired young woman of modest height, clad in filthy rags.
She blinked at the light. "You are an elf," she said. "I thought my time had come, and Volrath was playing a little game with me."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Takara, daughter of Starke."
He knew the name from Darsett en-Dal. Takara had been part of the early Dal resistance movement. Why was she still alive?
Takara slumped against the door. "Has there been a revolution? Or are you the new chief warder?"
"Neither. I'm escaping, if I can. If you would be free, come along."
Though limping himself, he gave his arm to the stranger. Takara didn't look like she'd been Greven's guest in the interrogation cell. Her skin was unmarked, but she was terribly thin and weak, probably starved for weeks.
She looked down at his makeshift splint and battered hands. "You're not in any shape for this, are you?"
"I'm not alone," he advised. "Some of my people are in the Citadel, but we have to find them."
Takara lowered her head to his shoulder. "Oh well, this has broken the tedium…"
The alarm bell ceased. It had been part of the background so long, its sudden cessation seemed louder than the noise had been. In its place they heard footfalls echoing along the curving corridor.
Takara lifted her head. "The world's shortest escape," she said, sighing.
Eladamri held a finger to his lips. He pulled the iron splint from his tortured leg. Without the brace, he almost collapsed. Takara held him up, though her frail arms trembled from the effort.
He nodded thanks.
They huddled in the shallow recess of a shut cell door, waiting for the runners to appear. Eladamri caught a glimpse of Rathi boot and breastplate and swung his iron. It whistled by Kireno's nose, missing him by a hair.
"Brother!" the Vec rebel cried. "It's us!"
The momentum of the swing carried Eladamri to the floor. Takara couldn't disentangle herself and fell on top of him. The two were gently separated by Kireno and one of Teynel's many cousins, Shamus.
They propped the elf against the wall.
"Be easy, brother," Kireno said. He took the water bottle from his hip and gave it to Eladamri. He drank greedily until he saw Takara watching him with parted lips. He wiped the mouth of the bottle and offered it to her.
Takara seized the bottle with both hands and raised it high. Water spurted from the corners of her mouth and ran down her chin, cutting white tracks in the gray grime on her face.
Eladamri smiled. "What news of Teynel, Liin Sivi, and the rest?"
"We fear Teynel and cousin Garnan are dead," Shamus put in. "We were trying to find the lower airship dock we'd heard about and got lost in some tunnels deep in the fortress. Teynel and Garnan went ahead to scout, but we were attacked!"
"Greven? Crovax?"
"Creatures, monsters!" Kireno said. "Poor Vellian put his hand in a nest of them. These two-legged ratballs devoured him… we had to run, we had no weapons to fight them with. We were supposed to meet Liin Sivi and her men at the hall where we saw Greven and Crovax, but the bell started ringing and there were guards all over the place-"
"-so we came to find you instead." Shamus finished Kireno's sentence for him.
"What's it like in the Citadel?" asked Eladamri.
"Chaos," Kireno replied. "They're bringing troops in from the city garrison, I heard them say. The whole place will be overrun with soldiers."
"Sivi must have drawn their attention. Very well, we need to get out of sight for a while and wait for things to calm a bit before we try to get out," the elf said.
"Where can we go?" said Shamus.
"Greven's bound to return here to finish with me," said Eladamri. "I can't decide whether to ambush him here or clear out to fight another day."
"Begging your pardon, O Eladamri, but you're in no shape to fight," Kireno said. "Let's find a quiet corner to hide in, as you said."
Takara interjected. "The map room," she said. "It's the next building over, before you get to the mogg warrens. It's for the evincar's use only, so no one goes there much."
"You know your way around this maze?"