Steelhands - Jaida Jones [191]
“No, Professor Adamo,” Gaeth said, not so much wide-eyed as he was well mannered. I was even starting to like him, so it’d really chafe my chaps if he turned out to be pulling a fast one on me.
“Good,” I said. “What in bastion’s name is taking so long with the keys out there?”
“Keys’re getting stuck to Balfour’s hands,” Ghislain explained.
And, crazy as it might’ve sounded to anyone else, it made perfect sense to me. Which just went to show how upside down my world had become.
“Gaeth?” I heard a familiar voice ask, a little too loud for my liking, from somewhere outside my cell. It belonged to that skinny cricket—the one engaged to Laure—though it seemed I’d forgotten his name outta pure spite.
“You’re the one who locked him up?” another voice demanded. It was the one I’d been hoping not to hear, truth be told, because it only meant that the girl’d gone and put herself in harm’s way—when I’d been trying to put her right out of it.
But I guessed it was exactly what I would’ve done, so I couldn’t fault her for it. Still, I certainly wished I’d been less complacent, so I wouldn’t look like the biggest fool this side of the Cobalts when Balfour finally got the cell door open.
“I didn’t know anything about it,” Gaeth protested. “Professor Adamo’s a hero. He doesn’t belong down here.”
Your little party could stand to be a little less boisterous, Antoinette suggested. And she was right, of course. I cleared my throat, which Ghislain and Balfour would recognize as a sign for everyone to shut the fuck up. It might’ve been a while since we’d all fought together, but some cues triggered instincts you just never forgot.
Ghislain lifted his hand—I couldn’t see his face anymore, since the opening in my cell door was set too low, but I could only assume he’d brought his fingers to his lips—and said, only once but very convincing, “Shh.”
Everybody quieted, so all we could hear was the jingling of the keys, and—finally—the sound of the right one sliding deep into the lock, turning with a click that was music to my ears.
I couldn’t celebrate just yet, but it was step one completed. The door swung open and I saw Ghislain—or the lower half of his body, most of his head cut off by the top of the door—and Balfour crouched beside him. There was Laure, too, standing with her hands on her hips like she needed to be sure I was really in the cell, taking in the details like a natural. Next to her was her fiancé, wringing his hands together, and Gaeth, scratching at the back of his head.
But that wasn’t all, I realized, feeling a little overwhelmed. Luvander’d come along, too, and next to him was somebody my eyes wouldn’t believe I was seeing.
“We brought a surprise,” that someone said, lifting his hand in a wave. “Can you imagine? It’s me!”
“Now, Raphael,” Luvander cautioned, “Owen Adamo has had a very long day. Let’s try not to be unnecessarily wearing.”
I had a lot of things to say, but I had to lick my lips a few times and force myself to be their Chief Sergeant, thereby not actually saying any of ’em. “Where’s Royston?” I asked finally. “He didn’t do anything stupid, did he?”
“That remains to be seen,” Balfour said, coming inside the cell and searching for a key to unlock the cuff around my ankle. “He provided the distraction. We don’t have much time.”
“Then toss Ghislain some keys and get the magicians out,” I told him.
“It’ll take a minute,” Balfour said, trying another key. “I just need to be sure I have the right … Ah, there we go.”
The manacle opened and I was free. Fortunately it hadn’t been on me long enough to do any real damage; though the skin was sensitive, it wasn’t yet raw.
Without waiting any longer—so, without wasting any more time—Balfour tossed his keys up to Ghislain.
“There were two in cells that I saw,” I told him. “Doesn’t mean there aren’t more around, so check all of ’em.”
“There are more now,” Laure said, seeming unsure of herself when everyone looked around toward her, then soldiering on. “Margrave