Read Online Balanced on the Blades Edge #2 Deathmaker by Lindsay Buroker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lindsay Buroker
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big cabin, or maybe a bulkhead had been removed to turn two rooms into one—but it did give the sense of a space packed with built-in tables, counters, and cabinets with glass fronts. Behind that glass lay all manner of books and scrolls, strange tools and quirky gadgets, chemicals in jars, powders in tins, and mysterious substances in clear vials. Bundles of drying grasses, roots, and leaves dangled on twine from the ceiling, and the whole place smelled of chemicals and herbs. All manner of goggles and magnifying devices hung on a pegboard—Cas tried not to find it creepy that hairy tufts that looked suspiciously like scalps were pinned there too. Crates secured to the floor with bolts held metal scrap, and a few mechanical insect-like contraptions rested on the top. Something moved in one of several terrariums along the wall, and she was relieved the lantern wasn’t bright enough to show what exactly.
“Put her in the corner?” One guard pointed to the shadowy end of the cabin. The hammock and clothing trunk there appeared out of place in the laboratory.
“Yeah, we’ll chain her to that pipe.”
Her body too achy to protest further, Cas let them guide her into the corner. Had they been considerate, they might have let her climb into the hammock, but they pushed her to the floor and shackled her to a pipe that ran vertically through the corner.
“Stay out of trouble, girl.” One of the guards patted her on the cheek with all the love of a polar bear smacking a fish out of the water, then they both headed for the door.
“You could leave the lantern,” she said, then, because they had no reason to want to please her, added, “so I’ll have time to look at all this strangeness and grow more and more scared.”
The pirate with the lantern snorted. “I reckon that’ll happen even more in the dark.” He paused in the doorway, and Cas thought some random bit of sympathy might bubble to the surface. But he only glared at her and said, “I lost a friend in that fight last summer. I hope Deathmaker’s got a special treat planned for you.”
The door slammed shut, leaving her alone in the dark.
No, not entirely alone. Something was slithering around in that terrarium. She hoped it wasn’t venomous. And that it couldn’t get out.
She shifted around, trying to find a comfortable space on the floor, but even if there had been one, her throbbing wounds would have precluded relaxation. Lumps and bruises she had been able to forget about while they were running and fighting refused to be ignored any longer. The guards hadn’t given her much slack, so she ended up sitting, cross-legged and facing the corner, her forehead leaning against the pipe.
The engine started up somewhere below her, the vibrations humming through the deck. In a few more minutes, they would be off, and there would be nowhere to escape to, even if she could manage it. The Roaming Curse had an aerial outpost out there somewhere over the ocean, and she guessed that was their next destination. Or maybe they were heading straight to Iskandia to set up that trap.
If she were the one to cause Colonel Zirkander’s death, she would never forgive herself. He had been one of the few people to trust her, to have faith in her. She owed him every award she had won in her short career—and a lot of laughs too.
Cas blinked, trying to fight back tears. They hadn’t threatened when there were witnesses, but here in the dark, it was hard to keep up that shield of toughness.
A doe can stumble and die, a hunter’s arrow in its side, without ever having felt sorry for itself. That was one of her father’s quotes. He had never been one to accept self-pity or any other sign of weakness, not from himself, and not from his daughter, either. He had hugged her and said nothing about her crying at her mother’s funeral, but that had been the last time he had condoned tears. She had been five then.
* * *
Though Port Ariason was several miles from the fortress,
“Put her in the corner?” One guard pointed to the shadowy end of the cabin. The hammock and clothing trunk there appeared out of place in the laboratory.
“Yeah, we’ll chain her to that pipe.”
Her body too achy to protest further, Cas let them guide her into the corner. Had they been considerate, they might have let her climb into the hammock, but they pushed her to the floor and shackled her to a pipe that ran vertically through the corner.
“Stay out of trouble, girl.” One of the guards patted her on the cheek with all the love of a polar bear smacking a fish out of the water, then they both headed for the door.
“You could leave the lantern,” she said, then, because they had no reason to want to please her, added, “so I’ll have time to look at all this strangeness and grow more and more scared.”
The pirate with the lantern snorted. “I reckon that’ll happen even more in the dark.” He paused in the doorway, and Cas thought some random bit of sympathy might bubble to the surface. But he only glared at her and said, “I lost a friend in that fight last summer. I hope Deathmaker’s got a special treat planned for you.”
The door slammed shut, leaving her alone in the dark.
No, not entirely alone. Something was slithering around in that terrarium. She hoped it wasn’t venomous. And that it couldn’t get out.
She shifted around, trying to find a comfortable space on the floor, but even if there had been one, her throbbing wounds would have precluded relaxation. Lumps and bruises she had been able to forget about while they were running and fighting refused to be ignored any longer. The guards hadn’t given her much slack, so she ended up sitting, cross-legged and facing the corner, her forehead leaning against the pipe.
The engine started up somewhere below her, the vibrations humming through the deck. In a few more minutes, they would be off, and there would be nowhere to escape to, even if she could manage it. The Roaming Curse had an aerial outpost out there somewhere over the ocean, and she guessed that was their next destination. Or maybe they were heading straight to Iskandia to set up that trap.
If she were the one to cause Colonel Zirkander’s death, she would never forgive herself. He had been one of the few people to trust her, to have faith in her. She owed him every award she had won in her short career—and a lot of laughs too.
Cas blinked, trying to fight back tears. They hadn’t threatened when there were witnesses, but here in the dark, it was hard to keep up that shield of toughness.
A doe can stumble and die, a hunter’s arrow in its side, without ever having felt sorry for itself. That was one of her father’s quotes. He had never been one to accept self-pity or any other sign of weakness, not from himself, and not from his daughter, either. He had hugged her and said nothing about her crying at her mother’s funeral, but that had been the last time he had condoned tears. She had been five then.
* * *
Though Port Ariason was several miles from the fortress,
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