Thomas shifted uncertainly on his cot. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing yet.” She tucked the bracelet through her shirt collar and into her bra. “I need to talk to Elton first. He’s probably going to need rescuing, too.” She let out a slow breath and rubbed her knuckles against her forehead. “But I also still need a nap. That cuimne spell is no joke.”
“Don’t push yourself,” Thomas said, his voice slightly soft. “You weren’t under very long, but the fever can still last for days.”
“Then I’d rather sweat it out in my own bed.” Despite her words, she still felt lightheaded, and she eased herself back down onto her cot. Raise hell, Nathan had said. Remember what’s at stake. Thomas had said enough back at the shop. Every couple he’d helped would have the ingnas done to them, and their kids would be taken away from them. Or worse. After everything that had happened—all the way from Elton being punished for saving a town from a lich to the Magistrate mind-wiping children—taking the aggressive way out was starting to sound like a good idea.
20
Elton looked up from his cot when the door clicked open and a guard’s sharp voice sounded out in the hall, shouting, “Form up!”
He stood and put a tentative hand on the cell bars as he leaned out to look. The other inmates were exiting their cells as the doors slid open, lining up in two neat rows in the long corridor. Elton took his place and stood up straight in an attempt to peer further down the line, and he caught sight of Cora’s head a few people in front of him. She was upright, at least, which meant that even if she’d suffered the cuimne, it hadn’t been for long.
Elton followed the line down the hall, the faun’s hooves clicking on the concrete floor behind him, and stood in the cafeteria line when they were let inside the wide, harshly-lit room. He’d barely had time to adjust to not getting his meals on a plastic tray, he thought with a silent sigh. The men at his side didn’t speak to him, though they both gave him long looks up and down. He could feel their eyes on his tattooed forearms, plainly visible thanks to the uniform’s short sleeves. This wasn’t a long-term imprisonment facility, but there was always a pecking order. Elton didn’t plan on being here long enough to find his place in it.
He took his place across from Cora at one of the long tables, as much to themselves as was possible. The other inmates seemed content to leave them be, at least for now, but Elton kept a wary eye on the men around them. Cora was the only woman. Not that she seemed bothered; she leaned on the table to peer up at Elton with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
“Arrested again, huh? Just what did you agree to?” she questioned, as uninterested in her instant mashed potatoes as Elton was. “Nathan said you were with him.”
“I agreed to help you,” he said. He glanced over at Thomas, who sat beside Cora, watching him with a tired frown. “Both of you.”
“Well, here’s the plan.” Cora dropped her voice and prodded the potatoes with her spoon. “We’re going to need a distraction, unless you want to fight every Chaser in here head on.”
“Not preferable, no.”
“So, with what I’ve collected so far, I should be able to make something work. But I’m missing one key thing. I need some personal concerns.” She paused to peek around the room, chewing her lip as though considering. “From...that guy, I think.” She nodded toward a burly-looking man at a table nearby, who hunched over his food and glowered out across the room. “Yeah, he looks good. He’ll make a fuss. Plus, not to judge a book by its cover, but he looks like he probably deserves to be here.” Elton felt Cora nudge his knee with her foot. “I need a tooth. Go hit him.”
Elton pulled back. “What? No. I’m not going to hit him.”
She huffed at him. “Do you want to get out of here or not? You wanted nice and quiet, right?”
“In what way is starting a fight considered nice and quiet?”
“Nicer and quieter than the alternative.”
“I said no. We’ll have an opportunity if they try to take Thomas downstairs tomorrow. Things should be handled on the outside by then. I’ll figure something out.”
Cora didn’t seem pleased by the answer. She frowned at him and tried to look defiant as she pushed some green beans into her mouth.
“You’re all right, though?” Elton asked in a softer voice, and she paused. “They put you under, didn’t they?”
“I’m a big girl,” she said, but Elton could see the slight flush of fever in her cheeks. “It sucked, but I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
He looked over at Thomas. “Did they get what they wanted from you?”
The other man lowered his eyes rather than meet Elton’s gaze. “Not everything. But they’ll try again.”
“We’ll get you out before they do,” Cora promised. “And we’d get out much sooner if Elton would go and hit that guy,” she pressed, and Elton sighed through his nose.
“You’re very quick to volunteer me for this.”
“You’re the tough guy, here. You want Thomas to hit him? Thomas panicked when a spider got on his arm.”
“I did not panic,” Thomas clarified.
“You panicked a little.”
“Just be patient,” Elton said, and Cora snorted in mild frustration.
When the guard shouted at them again to form up into their lines, the inmates dutifully dumped the leftovers on their trays and returned to their line. Cora pushed her way ahead of Elton as he scanned the room, quickly counting the men who escorted the line. Only three. Even if they waited until every cell was open before they made their move, three guards could easily be overtaken once the wards were lifted.
He heard a sudden thick thump, and then he stumbled slightly as Cora ducked behind him, her hands fisted in the back of his shirt. He glanced back at her in confusion, and when he looked ahead again, he caught a momentary glimpse of surly inmate before the meaty fist connected with his jaw.
Elton fell backward, only staying on his feet thanks to Cora’s supporting hands behind him, and the man snatched him up by his shirtfront to draw him close.
“Think you’re a big man, new meat?” the man growled. He lifted his fist to strike again, but Elton hit him sharply in the kidney and slid free of his grip as he doubled over. Without hesitation, he picked an abandoned tray from the stack beside the trash and slammed it against the side of his aggressor’s head. The man stumbled as the other inmates gave shouts of anger or approval, and before Elton could swing again, the larger man charged him. He buried his shoulder in Elton’s stomach as he pushed forward, lifting him clear off the ground before crashing him onto one of the long tables. Elton managed to hold onto his tray as he landed, and he hit the other man once on the back of the head and again directly in the face when he reeled back from the hit. He pushed him away with a foot in his chest and avoided his grasping hands, hitting him square in the jaw with the corner of the thick tray and sending a stream of blood from his lips to the floor.
When he started to move, Elton hit him again. When he staggered, Elton hit him harder. He hit him until his face was covered in blood, and when the larger man finally fell to his knees, Elton hit him once last time, dropping him to the floor in a heap. He let the tray slip from his hand with a heavy clatter, and spots of blood spattered the floor in a grim pattern around the dripping plastic.
Before he could catch his breath, he was forced to his knees by the guard’s binding spell, his every muscle seizing as his arms locked behind him. He twisted his head just enough to see Cora edge her way around the scene and quickly stoop to pick up the tooth Elton had successfully dislodged. Not a complete loss, at least, he thought with a soft, empty chuckle in his throat that the guard didn’t appreciate. Elton was pulled forcibly to his feet and ushered off down the hall. He briefly caught sight of Cora’s apologetic face as the elevator doors closed between them.
“That’s more like the Elton I know,” Thomas muttered beside Cora, and they were quickly shouted back into line as a guard knelt to tend to the bleedin
g man on the floor.
Cora held the tooth tightly in her palm as they walked. She waited until the cell doors were closed and locked, the noise in the corridor dropping to its usual low rumbling of conversation, before peeking into her hand at her prize. Elton would definitely be punished. Maybe forcing him into a fight hadn’t been the brightest idea, but now she had what she needed.
After lights out, she retrieved a little packet of black pepper she’d stashed in her bra at dinner and cupped it in her palm along with the tooth and spider-bits she’d kept under her pillow. It couldn’t take much longer for Chris to break the wards now. She would be ready.
Cora sat at the edge of her cot while she waited and hissed at Thomas to get his attention. “Hey,” she said. “What’s that thing he brought you, all wrapped up? Something helpful?”
“I hope not,” Thomas answered softly.
She gave a light sigh. “I stayed to help you get out, you know. Elton let himself get arrested for you. It would be super helpful if you’d actually, you know, cooperate when the time comes. Unless you’d rather stay in jail and brood. Do you want me to make you up a sad nickname? This is how you get a sad nickname.”
Thomas scowled at her silhouette through the darkness. “If he does actually lift the wards, what are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna make that guy really sick,” she answered easily, rolling the bloody tooth between her palms. “And when the guards come to check on him, I’m going to let myself out of this cell, and I’m going to knock the shit out of them. Then we can go get Elton and fight our way out of here.”
“That’s your plan? To fight your way out? There are at least a dozen Chasers here, plus staff.”
“And every one of them would drag children in here and wipe their minds of memories of their own parents if we let them.”
Thomas hesitated at the sharp tone of her voice. He couldn’t see her very well across the black corridor, but he could sense the tension in her. “You’re right,” he admitted, and he heard the soft creak of her cot as she shifted. “They would.”
“So I’m not going to let them. The Magistrate sucks, and it’s time somebody told them so.”
“Is that what Moore would do?”
Cora frowned down at the modest ingredients in her hand, the bracelet hidden in her bra already feeling warm against her skin. “It’s what I’m going to do.”
She paused. The bracelet felt warm. She reached into her shirt with her cleaner hand and tugged the string of charms free. The stone chips and carved bones almost seemed to pulse in her fingers. She twisted a bead between her fingertips and felt the word she knew was there, even in the darkness.
“Dife,” she whispered, and a small pearl of soft orange flame formed just above her hand, twisting in the still air for a moment before putting itself out. She looked across the corridor towards Thomas’s cell. “You saw that?”
“I guess he actually did it.”
“It’s time. Are you going to help?”
“Don’t worry about me,” he assured her, but he sounded resigned. “I’ll do my part.”
“Good. Now, wait for it.” She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and tore the pepper packet open with her teeth, sprinkling the contents over the sticky collection of blood, tooth, and spider bits resting in her palm. She really could have used some graveyard dirt, or, if she’d had time, maybe she could have lured some ants into her cell. But this would have to do. She hoped it would do. The charms around her wrist heated against her skin as she whispered, carefully pronouncing words she’d written in her book months before. She prayed to whatever person or thing made magic work that she didn’t get points off for having a shitty accent. The tooth slowly blackened in her palm, soaking up the droplets of remaining blood and pulling the spiderweb around itself like a spindle.
The instant the whole thing crumbled to dark ash, a pained shout sounded from the opposite end of the corridor, silencing the hushed whispers in the cells. The afflicted man cried out so suddenly that even Cora jumped, but she quickly pushed herself up from her cot and leaned against the bars of her cell to look. The lights came back on with a bang, and hasty footsteps filled the hall as the night guards rushed to the screaming man’s cell.
Cora spared a glance at Thomas, who offered her a brief nod. She reached through the bars and pressed her palm against the plate housing the lock. She had to try a couple of words before she found the one that clicked the door open. She sighed with relief as she heard the bolt shift inside. Nathan forgetting to give her the right grounding would have put a real damper on her daring escape. She slipped out through the open door and repeated the soft incantation at Thomas’s cell, tugging the bars open to let him free.
She almost asked him if he was ready to go, but as he moved to stand beside her, he pulled the dark silk from the bundle in his hand and let it fall to the floor, revealing the well-worn triangular prism of wood. Cora couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at it.
“What is that?”
“My grounding.” She pressed her lips together as she looked at him, and he frowned. “What?”
“It’s a wand.”
“It’s not—”
“You have a wand.”
“It is the Key of the Work,” he clarified, a defensive tone in his voice.
“When you were a kid, did a big hairy guy with a beard show up to take you to school?”
“Shut up.”
“Yer a wizard, Thomas,” she said in a cruel mockery of an English accent.
He gave a short, irritated sigh. “Can we get going?”
“Just be careful. Let me know if your scar starts to hurt.”
Thomas visibly bristled, but Cora only stifled a laugh with the back of her hand and moved past him to start down the hall, waving him along behind her as she went.
She crept by the empty cells neighboring their own and peeked into the next, not wanting any of their fellow inmates to raise an alarm. As she passed by a cell she thought was empty, she found herself snatched suddenly backward by a muscular arm around her neck. The faun held her back against the bars, his scruffy chin rasping against her cheek as he hissed into her ear.
“Share some of that magic, girl,” he whispered. “Let me out.”
Thomas lifted his hand automatically, but Cora waved at him and put a finger to her lips to keep him from alerting the nearby guards. They didn’t have time for this. She could see two of the guards holding down the flailing inmate while the other attempted to lift the hex. It wasn’t going to take them long. She twisted her head in the faun’s grip to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Not asking super nicely,” she murmured.
The faun tapped one hoof impatiently against the floor, drawing her attention to the carved metal around his ankle. “Tick tock, girlie. Let me out or let the guards grab you.”
“Then let me go, goat-ass,” she answered through gritted teeth, and she slid into a crouch as soon as the faun’s arm loosened around her neck. The iron anklet felt chilled under Cora’s fingertips, but it snapped open readily at the same word that unlocked the cells themselves. As soon as it clinked to the concrete floor, the faun shook his leg free and took a step back.
“I owe you, kid,” he said with a quick two-fingered salute, and then he vanished in a soft flurry of leaves that twirled through the air in his wake.
“I hope that was wise,” Thomas muttered.
Cora didn’t answer. There wasn’t time to worry about it now. The inmate in the next cell went silent, and she heard one of the guards swear quietly in relief. Now or never. Her bracelet went hot against her wrist as she raised her hands, forcing her voice out with all the will she could muster. “Enkonsyan!”
Two of the guards went slack immediately, crumpling to the floor in a tangle of limbs, but one of the men holding the inmate down didn’t waver. He pushed to his feet without hesitation and snapped out a binding spell that would have knocked Cora to the floor if Thomas hadn’t stepped in front
of her.
“Prohibe,” he said softly, the man swaying on his feet, and Thomas drew a quick symbol in the air with a flick of his wrist. “Quassate eum sis.”
The guard fell to the floor as if pulled by dragging hands, his back bending his elbows toward his heels so sharply that Cora feared he might snap in half. He contorted on the floor with his head twisted to one side and his mouth gaping like a snake’s unhinged jaw, a visible tremble in his skin as he let out a strained gurgling cry.
“Jesus,” Cora breathed. “I’m sorry I made fun of your wand.”
Thomas didn’t look at her. “Let’s find Elton.”
He led the way down the center of the corridor, stepping past the guard’s twisted body on the floor. He urged her by the shouts and jeers and reaching hands of the other inmates, and together they entered the elevator into the lower level of the station. Thomas glanced sidelong at her as the doors closed. “There will be a Controller here,” he said, watching her face for any sign of hesitation. “Elton may already be under the cuimne. We should hope that he is; if so, the Controller may be too focused to hear us coming.”
“Never hoped for that to be done to somebody before,” she said dryly. “Do you think we should let the others out? I mean, they’re just as likely to be in here for bullshit reasons as we are, right?”
“And just as likely to be actual murderers,” Thomas reminded her. “Let’s just worry about ourselves for now.”
They pressed themselves against the walls of the elevator as the doors opened into the basement level, but there wasn’t anyone waiting to greet them. Cora paused at the sound of a dull thump, and she exchanged a brief glance with Thomas before stepping out into the narrow corridor. It was even more depressing here than it was upstairs—the lights were simple hanging bulbs at regular intervals, and each door was a cold, unforgiving slab of metal. The distant memory of being on the other side of one made her shudder.
The Left-Hand Path: Runaway Page 20
