Steelhands - Jaida Jones [190]
Well? Antoinette asked, and I was real proud of myself for not jumping when her voice suddenly invaded my head. Are you being carted off or not?
Hang on, I told her. It’s a kid. They’ve got kids down here. Th’Esar’s pairing kids up with new dragons and Regina only knows what horseshit plan he’s following.
Silence, from inside my head and outside, too, as Gaeth waited for my answer, all white around the mouth the way Balfour used to get before a raid.
When I’m finished with that man, even the worms will not want to eat him, Antoinette said finally.
Good plan, I replied. Why poison the worms?
“Listen, Gaeth,” I said, lowering my voice as best I could, so that he’d have to lean in. “Someone’s coming to break us out. Friends of mine, I think. If we’re lucky—and I’m not saying we will be—can you stick around here to wait for them?”
“I could,” Gaeth admitted, looking up and down the hall again. “But my Cornflower …”
The reluctance in his voice sent a pang through me. If he thought it was bad being nagged by her now, try after they’d been together for years, and she knew him well enough to outsmart him all the time.
“Where are they keeping the other dragons?” I asked. Not because I was fool enough to think we could go after them but because it seemed like good information to have—for later, maybe, so we didn’t stumble into a damn nest.
“There’s another building,” Gaeth whispered. “Across a bridge—I’m always worried I’ll take a tumble straight off the thing. I can swim, but the water’s so dark, it ain’t natural. No one’s fallen in yet, but it makes me sick to look down.”
“I’ve been there,” I told him, remembering the metal key in Troius’s palm and Ironjaw’s claws tearing up the floor.
Just then I heard more footsteps—several pairs this time and all at once, like a team of guards heading toward my cell.
“Is that for you, or me?” I asked, hoping Gaeth wouldn’t spook.
“Might be they learned I was coming,” Gaeth whispered, holding very still. That might’ve helped him while dealing with bears in the countryside, but it wouldn’t do much good with a trained guard. “I know my Cornflower didn’t betray me, though. She doesn’t like Troius, and she hates Ironjaw.”
Hush the boy, Antoinette said.
Are they friend or foe? I asked.
I’m a mind reader, Antoinette replied, not an oracle.
Either way, we’d know soon enough. I tried to indicate to Gaeth that he should hightail it out of there. If he was caught consorting with the enemy, I didn’t know how far his precious rare connection to a dragon would go to protect him, and I didn’t want him getting hurt on my account.
“It’s a big man,” Gaeth whispered, eyes fixed not on me, but staring off somewhere down the hall. “Very big man.”
I could see now why Troius wanted to recruit someone like me to the cause—someone who knew a little something about actual training.
Then, an arm—a very big arm—reached out to grab Gaeth by the shoulder, managing to lift him clear of the ground.
There was only one person I knew in all of Thremedon who could do that, and I was relieved for a moment to realize my rescue party had come at last. But I didn’t want Gaeth panicking and calling his girl to attack. That’d be a surefire way to let everyone know what was happening.
“Put ’im down, Ghislain,” I said.
Slowly, Gaeth was lowered to the floor. A moment after that, Ghislain’s head loomed into view. “This one’s not bothering you?” he asked.
I could hear the jingling of keys, which at least meant that while we were shooting the shit, just casually catching up, somebody was trying to bust me out.
“Not any more than young folk usually do,” I replied. “And I think he’s on our side. Though we’ve got someone a few cells down who’ll be able to tell for certain. In the meantime, Gaeth, this is Ghislain.