by Rachel Ford
So, a little more annoyed, he turned to the slop. It tasted about as good as it looked; and it looked runny and lumpy, and vaguely like vomit. Mermaid vomit, on account of the iridescent shimmer and faintly fishy odor.
It had nothing to do with mermaids, though. The fishy odor came from actual fish, and so did the shimmer. Which he discovered when he plopped a spoonful of slop into his mouth and discovered fish scales.
Choking and gagging, he spit the offending food out. The tray with his bowl dropped in the commotion, and it clattered to one side, sloshing swill every which way.
And in the fishy water, among the shimmering lumps and pale liquid, a great iron key clattered down.
Jack stopped gagging to pick it up. A little shred of paper hung from the handle, tied with a bit of rough twine. It read:
Use this key to free yourself. Your items are stored in a chest behind the sentry.
Your friend
He blinked. “Migli?” He was almost impressed. For once, the dwarf had outdone himself. But he didn’t waste time on gratitude. He glanced up and down the hall to confirm the coast was clear. Then he stuck his hand through the bars, fitted the key to the lock, and stepped into the hallway.
He’d taken about three steps when he heard a voice. “Sir Jack?”
He nearly jumped out of his skin. Indeed, he vaulted so high he smacked his head into the ceiling. His health meter dropped ten points, and he scowled in the direction of the speaker. Then, he froze. “Migli?”
The dwarf blinked back at him from another cell, just down the hall from his own. “Jack, hast that tyrant of a mayor laid hold of thee too?”
Jack was about to tell him how he’d been wrongly apprehended, giving the shop keep a taste of his own thieving medicine. But he paused. “Wait a minute. What are you doing in here? If you had the key, why not just free yourself?”
Migli stared at him. “Key? I know naught of what you speak, friend. But if thou hast a key, prithee set me free.”
He did, glancing again up and down the way. The guards were conveniently absent. “What happened, Migli? Why are you in jail?”
“Ah, the knave of a mayor has no respect for true love.”
Jack glanced askew at him. “You mean, he found out you were banging his wife?”
Migli nodded forlornly. “Aye, Elise – fair, fair Elise. The fairest maid ever have my eyes beheld.”
The talk of eyes led Jack to roll his own. “Well, that’s rough.”
“Aye. But true love burns like an eternal ember in the heart. No brute shall keep us apart, my fairest Elise.”
“Yeah, why let a thing like, you know, her being married get in the way of your true love.”
The dwarf nodded. “Indeed. Nothing ever shall.” Then, his expression brightened. “But come, Sir Jack, we must make haste, ere the guard discovers we have gone.”
Jack didn’t need urging. He turned and crept down the hall. They reached an intersection in the passage, with three new ways presenting themselves before him.
“The guard lookout is that way,” Migli said, pointing straight ahead. “We’ll find our stuff there.”
They crossed the hall. Most of the cells were occupied, though a few were empty, their doors opened. Here and there, a prisoner called out to them as they passed. “Hey, let us out,” or, “Oi, if you’re freeing people, what about me?”
But they left the cellblocks behind, until they reached a wide-open space that overlooked the prison. Here, Jack ducked behind a visitor’s bench. “Stuff and nonsense. How are we going to get out of here? He’s looking right at us?”
That was true enough. The guard seemed to be staring through them, watching the block with vacant eyes.
“We need a distraction,” Migli said.
Jack nodded absently. “Okay. But what kind of distraction?”
“It’ll have to be serious enough to draw their attention.”
“Another fire?” He wasn’t keen on the idea of fire – not after his recent experience with it. But he thought about the torches burning along the halls, and the piles of hay in each cellblock.
“It’ll have to be something big.”
Jack took this to be confirmation that the idea was a sound one, so he kept low and crept backwards until he was out of the guard’s sight. Then he straightened out and headed to the first open cell he found.
He grabbed a torch and paused to consider the logistics. If he burned the straw here, he’d have to hide further back in the cellblock. But if he torched one of the more interior cells, he could hide in plain sight in this empty cell. “We won’t latch the door,” he decided. “We’ll just pull it almost closed. The guards will be so busy running toward the fire, they won’t even notice. And once they go by, we’ll make a break for it.”
Migli didn’t say anything. He just followed Jack as he raced down the hall, to a second empty cell. He tossed the torch inside, confirmed that the hay was catching, and then retreated to the first cell.
“Come on Migli. Get in.” Smoke was already billowing out of the cell and filling the halls. The nearest prisoners had started screaming bloody murder, accusing him of trying to roast them alive. He figured it would be just a minute or two until the guards caught wind of it, so he swung the door after them until it almost latched.
They waited. And waited. Nothing happened.
The smoke kept billowing, and the prisoners kept screaming, for a good fifteen minutes. The hall darkened. He saw the lick of flames from inside the cell.
Then the flames receded, and the smoke thinned. The prisoners kept on making a ruckus, but Jack poked his head out.
“Son of a biscuit. The fire’s out.”
He glanced down the hall. The guard was still in his spot, gazing with apparently unseeing eyes at the cellblock. Keen disappointment surged in his breast. “It didn’t work. He didn’t even move.”
“We need a distraction,” Migli put in, most unhelpfully.
“No stuffing. What do you think I was doing with the fire?”
“It’ll have to be serious enough to draw their attention.”
He scowled at the dwarf. “You think I should light up a few cells at once?”
“It’ll have to be something big.”
“Maybe the whole block?”
Migli said nothing, and Jack considered the implications of doing so. He figured if he switched from the torches to a fire spell, he could get fires going in all the cells. And if it worked, the guards would have to free all the prisoners before they burned to death. That’d be more than enough distraction.
And if it didn’t work? He shivered at the idea, remembering the listless gaze and uninterested stance of the watchman. What if he stayed like that, while all those prisoners cooked?
“Don’t be ridiculous, Migli. We can’t torch the whole blessed prison complex. We could kill tons of people.”
“We need a distraction.”
“Yes, I know. But I’m not going to light a bunch of people on fire for your distraction, dangnabbit. We need to come up with a better idea than that.”
“It’ll have to be serious enough to draw their attention.”
He stared daggers at the dwarf. “You think murder would draw their attention.”
“It’ll have to be something big.”
He was just about to launch into a tirade, telling the dwarf how damned unhelpful he was being, when one of the prisoners called out, “Hey, you with the key: let us out. There’s too much smoke.”
Jack whooped triumphantly. “Ha. I’ve got it, Migli. What if we let out all the prisoners?”
Chapter Thirteen
Migli thought the idea was brilliant. Jack knew that, because the dwarf repeated himself every single time they opened a cell: “Brilliant, Sir Knight,” or, “Brilliant thinking, Jack,” or, “Absolutely brilliant.”
At every.
Single.
Door.
Because Jack stopped at every door. He wasn’t one to do things in half measures. So they du
cked back to the rear of the cellblock, hiding once from the other guard, who was on his way patrolling.
They let the prisoners go, one at a time. At least, Jack let them go. Migli just followed, loud and clumsy as he moved, and bellowing praise at each door.
Every.
Single.
Door.
Jack had counted fifteen brilliant, Sir Knights, three absolutely brilliants, and eight brilliant thinking, Sir Jacks, for a total of twenty-six occupied cells. Two cells housed double occupants, so all-in-all, he unleashed twenty-eight escapees on the guards. He and Migli brought the number up to thirty.
But he and Migli didn’t go about things quite the way the others did. Twenty-eight prisoners barreled into the open area before the guard post, screamed at the sight of the guard, and raced in random directions. Some headed for the outdoors, some raced back down a hall that would take them nowhere fast; and others ran in a confused jumble, this way, then that.
Jack and Migli slipped into the cell nearest the exit.
At first, the guard called for backup. Four more armed and armored men ran downstairs. Two headed for the exit, in hot pursuit of the escapees who had gone in that direction. The remaining guards dispersed into the open area. They shouted orders, demanding prisoners return to their cells.
Naturally, this didn’t happen. The prisoners ran, and the guards pursued. Jack cackled as the coast cleared. “Alright, Migli. Let’s get the heather out of here.”
They stuck to the shadows and the wall, running fast and staying low. Easier done for the dwarf than Jack, of course, and before too long he started to feel his back cramp up. Who the hell programs back cramps into a videogame?
Still, they reached the guard post. Migli would have barreled past, but Jack pulled him inside. “Our stuff.”
There was a large iron locker inside, and he headed straight for it. As soon as he opened the doors, he felt a wave of relief.
Your items have been returned to you.
He was aware of his gold – all two hundred and fifty-three pieces, exactly. He was aware of his demon boar meat and his healing potion; his weapons and his armor; everything, in short, that he’d acquired legally, and all the gold he’d acquired via selling stolen goods.
The stolen goods themselves, though, were gone.
He didn’t linger to bemoan the loss. He could hear the guards shouting bloody murder all around. He could hear the sounds of fighting, and the angry screams of prisoners. He could even hear a tense ambient score playing away in the background.
“Time to go.”
They ducked out of the room, and up a flight of stairs. Twice, they had to duck into rooms to avoid guards, and once they hid under a cot in one of the barracks rooms. Jack went first, and Migli crushed in behind him – and nearly suffocated him in the process. “You need to go on a diet, dang it.”
Still, a few near misses notwithstanding, they got outside without being spotted. Jack stepped nervously into the bright midmorning sunlight and cast a furtive glance all around. The guards out here seemed oblivious to the prison riot going on behind them. “Good thing these guys haven’t figured out how warning bells work.”
Migli leaned in and spoke in low tones, “Come, sir knight. We should make our way out of here as quickly as we can. I believe I may have worn out my welcome.”
He snorted. “You think?”
“I fear so.”
“But can you bear to do it? Can you leave your beloved Elise?”
“Ah.” The dwarf seemed to miss the sarcasm in his tone, for he tapped a closed fist to his heart. “Ah, speak not that name, Sir Knight. This poor heart of mine cannot hear it. Not when the wound is so fresh.”
Jack rolled his eyes. Then a thought struck him. “She is…okay, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“Elise. You know, the love of your life? The mayor didn’t – well, he didn’t hurt her or anything, did he?”
Migli shook his head. “A knave he may be, but a dead knave if ever he lifts a finger to fairest Elise. No – no, my sorrow stems from our parting. For Elise remains with him, so I must go until such day as the time is right for my sweet love and I to reunite.”
“So you mean…she could come with you if she wanted, but she’s choosing to stay with her husband?”
“It’s not that simple, Jack. Fairest Elise is a woman of honor. Her vows mean a good deal to her.”
Now, he laughed. “Not enough to keep her from shagging strangers.”
The dwarf ignored his comment. “So I must part from my fairest and dearest, and who knows the hour of our reuniting? But I have faith that it will happen.”
“Great. You keep on holding the faith, Migli. But if you’re a wanted man, we need to get out of here.”
“Indeed.”
“And I want to grab a healing spell before we go anywhere.”
Migli didn’t protest, so they headed to Dayton’s Wares. It was the first shop on their way, and Jack knew they had what he needed. But Dayton – or Daxton; he wasn’t sure which – barred entry. “I’m sorry, adventurer. But you’re not welcome here.”
“Come on, dude. I served my time. I’m a reformed citizen.”
The round-faced man wouldn’t be budged, though, repeating cheerfully, “I’m sorry, adventurer. But you’re not welcome here.”
He tried two more shops. The first sold only herbs and ointments. The herbs, he deduced, could be used to create healing ointments. And while he was interested in doing so, eventually, at the moment he needed to save his gold for spells.
He moved on to a second shop. This proved to be an armorer’s workshop, and Jack almost left in a huff – except that the armorer promised he could refit his armor.
It cost two hundred and twenty-five gold pieces, but now Jack’s armor fit like it had been designed for him. It accentuated his shoulders and lengthened his torso. He looked taller and broader and generally more badass.
Although the latter might have been due to the plates he’d had added to the piece. It was the only practical addition, in truth, costing fifty of the two hundred and twenty-five coins. It gave him an added ten points of defense against ranged weapons – and the silver accents looked a lot more fearsome than the simple black leather.
Still, he came away with only twenty-eight gold pieces left. “I guess we’re going to have to hold off on the spells.”
Migli didn’t seem interested. He kept throwing a glance over his shoulder. “We should see if we can find the ferryman.”
“Right. Hold on. Before we go, shouldn’t we find out who rescued us? Don’t we…I don’t know, owe them something?”
Migli persisted in reminding him that they should find the ferryman, so Jack didn’t argue. He really wasn’t in the mood to chase a bunch of meaningless side quests anyway.
They headed toward the great, black body of water at the edge of town. It hadn’t really changed color since the night before. The sunlight shimmered on its surface, bright and cheery. But underneath was dark and inky. Even at the shoreline, Jack couldn’t tell at a glance how deep it was. It might have eased out slowly on a long, gentle sandbar. Or it might have dropped precipitously, like stepping off the side of an old granite quarry.
He was still staring at the water, frowning at its foreboding aspect, when a voice accosted them. “Migli!” it said.
He turned, and grimaced. It was the woman from the tavern the night before. She was cute and dressed in medieval garb, which, in his opinion, only made her cuter. But she’d catapulted herself out from the shade of a great oak tree, and into the dwarf’s arms. That called into question her mental acuity.
“My dearest Elise,” he said. “My fair one, my beauty.”
“Oh Migli. You got the key, then?”
The dwarf pulled back from her embrace to stare up at her. “The key, Fair Lady?”
“I paid one of the guards to slip a key under your bowl, along with a note.”
Migli started to say he hadn’t got it when Jack frowned.
“Wait. That was you?”
She stared at him. “Who are you?”
Migli introduced them – him, as Sir Jack, and her as Elise, “The brightest star in the night sky, the fairest maid in all the seven realms, the sweetest songbird to ever flutter into a dwarf’s heart.”
Jack nearly gagged. “Right. Well, I guess I owe my getting out to you.”
She glanced down her nose imperiously at him. “And what, pray, were you in prison for?”
He flushed and shifted nervously. “Well…uh…a slight misunderstanding.”
“How slight?”
“One of the shop keeps got it into his head that I was stealing. But I wasn’t. Not exactly.”
Her light eyes widened, though, and she turned a scandalized expression the dwarf’s way. “Migli, my love, this man is a miserable shoplifter and pocket picker.”
“I’m sure there must be a mistake.”
“No. I heard about it directly from Dayton himself. You should be careful, my handsome dwarf. This cutpurse will rob you in your sleep.”
Migli spent a good minute reassuring his lady fair that Jack posed no threat to him, and Jack spent the same amount of time fighting the flames in his cheeks. He’d given up trying to explain his theft away. He just stood there, humiliated, until they finished.
But they did eventually finish. Elise warned them that her husband had men out looking for them. “He’ll check the port soon. You must go, Migli. But promise me that you will return some day, and we will again make sweet love under moonlit skies?”
He did, effusively, and Jack endured a rather stomach-turning set of farewells. Finally – mercifully – they turned back to the water. A boat had arrived in the interval, and laid anchor.
“Ah, the ferry is here,” Elise said. “Go, noble dwarf, and know that my heart travels with thee.”
They’d very nearly reached the boat when distant shouts sounded behind them. Jack turned to see a large procession of armed guards led by a well-dressed civilian. “Let me guess…that’s the mayor.”
Migli, meanwhile, shouted, “The mayor. Run, Jack.”
