A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [74]
As his arm swung forward, the hand detached from the wrist and sailed through the air, bumping against the wall near the peg where the keys hung. “Prongs!” Ferrin spat, using the word as profanity. The hand scuttled back to the cell on nimble fingers. Ferrin reattached it and tried again. This time the hand hit the keys but failed to catch hold of them. They jingled tauntingly as the hand slapped to the floor.
On the fifth try two fingers curled around the key ring, supporting the swinging hand precariously. The guard remained slumped, motionless, against the bars.
Moving dexterously, three fingers gripped the key ring while the thumb and index finger inched the ring off the peg. The keys jangled against the floor. Jason watched in fascination as the hand dragged the keys across the floor like a crippled spider. Ferrin’s eyes were intent with concentration.
Ferrin reconnected the hand, picked up the keys, and pulled his shirt on over his head. Hastily reaching through the bars, he began trying keys. The gated section of the bars swung open. Ferrin scooped up the guard and hauled him into the cell. The man suddenly thrashed out of his grasp and twisted to lunge at Ferrin, who kneed the guard in the gut and shoved him to the floor. Ferrin pounced onto the man, hooking one arm around his neck in a choke hold while the other covered his mouth, muffling his protests. The man squirmed and lurched, desperate to break the hold, but Ferrin held firm as the guard’s face reddened.
After the man lay limp, Ferrin maintained the stranglehold for a moment. “This one likes to play possum,” he said. “Even when he’s locked in the cell his shouts could bring trouble.”
Ferrin rolled the guard onto his back and squatted beside him, staring. After a few seconds he swatted the man between his legs. The guard did not flinch. “He’s out for now,” Ferrin said, exiting the cell with Jason and shutting the door. He tossed the keys to Jason, who began stabbing keys into the lock of Rachel’s cell.
“I wondered what all the groaning meant,” Rachel said.
“Ferrin is a genius,” Jason replied, inserting the correct key and opening her cell.
“Should I finish off your friend?” Ferrin asked, jerking his head at Tad, who stood glaring at them, hands fisted around the bars of his cell.
Jason frowned. “I can’t see killing him while he’s at such a disadvantage, all penned up.”
Ferrin raised his eyebrows. “Chivalrous. You realize he will continue to hunt you once he gets free. His presence means he has taken a vow to see you dead. Were your situations reversed, he would end your life without a twinge of remorse.”
Tad spat through the bars.
“No,” Rachel said. “Don’t kill him. Not like this.”
Tad smirked.
“She’s right,” Jason said. “It’s one thing to act in self-defense. This would be something else.”
“It’s your neck,” Ferrin said. “You want out?” he asked the bearded man in the cell with Tad.
“No. I’m only in for another day. I caused a public disturbance. Matter of fact, would you mind giving me a knock on the head so the constable don’t blame me for not raising an alarm?”
“Come to the bars,” Ferrin said. He trotted over and punched between the bars, striking the man square in the eye. The man stumbled back and sat down hard, cupping a hand over the injury.
“Why doesn’t Tad raise an alarm?” Jason asked.
“He can probably guess what I would do in self-defense,” Ferrin said. “Give me the keys back.” After unsuccessfully trying a couple keys, Ferrin unlocked a closet and retrieved their belongings. Jason wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. The closet contained no additional weapons. Ferrin crossed to a desk, reached underneath, and pulled out a loaded crossbow that had been cunningly suspended on hidden hooks. “I like to keep my eyes open when people don’t think I’m watching,” he said. “They might have other arms stashed someplace, but we have no time to search. The guard we subdued was unarmed. Let’s see if we can get out the front door. Keep your