Dirge Danorum

Chapter 8

I was getting restless. I was grinding my teeth, opening and closing my hand. Ever could tell. He'd sensed it at first, but now he knew for certain, and I was finally sensing the wariness in him that should've been there from the start.

We crossed a room covered in different tiles, on a timer. There was a mounted light that had to be used to light the way. For two disoriented, possibly injured men, it would have been a tricky puzzle. For us, with our flashlights, it was nothing. We clearly weren't getting the full experience. The people who designed this place had not planned for Ever. He was outplaying them, and I was outperforming them. This was an embarrassment, and I was tired of it.

Stan was trying not to let on, but I could hear it in his voice. This tournament was still on, but it would damage him. Not as much as I would damage him when I got out of here, but harm had been done. His façade wouldn't hold. We listened as he went on and on, putting on a bright and cheery show for his viewers.

Everything he said indicated that Velvet and Grigor were still alive. That was, until he started shouting something – and an explosion shook the building. It must have done something to the speakers in the corridor, because all we got was static.

"Don't jump to conclusions," Ever said to me, and it took everything I had not to kill him right there. Venge was staring at me with wide eyes. I guess I must have looked pretty scary.

We knew this was the final room because Stan told us so when we finally reached a speaker that worked. I could tell from his voice that he didn't expect us to survive. He didn't say anything about Velvet. He was using his multiple audio channels to his advantage. He wanted me rattled and off-balance. He wanted me worried and unstable. And he got it.

"Through this door, ladies and gentlemen," he was saying.

I stepped forward and kicked it off its hinges.

It was just another room. The lights were flickering like you'd see at a rave, making it difficult to see. There was loud music drowning out Stan's voice. I recognized it.

There was chain link fencing forming two chambers, and two routes through the room. Four chain-link gates, all latched, but not locked. We had to choose one to get across. The door on the other side looked ordinary enough. There was some kind of device on the latches of the far gates, but in the poor light I couldn't make out any details.

A bucket of something sat on the floor. I knelt and touched it with one finger. Paint. Why was there paint?

I got back up and looked at Ever. He was standing there with Venge just behind him. His head was tilted just a little, and I was familiar with the look in his eyes. He was thinking, analyzing, conquering this room and the people who had made it. In a different state of mind, I'd have had more respect. Just then I didn't have time for him. I couldn't hear myself think.

I looked at the left door, then at the right. I didn't care. If Velvet was in trouble, it was going to take more than these games to keep me from her. I threw the latch and flung open the door.

A lock clamped down on the far gate, but there was a small timer attached. Numbers were counting down, but there was no explosive. It was the lock. The lock would disengage in a minute. I stepped into the compartment and looked back. Ever was standing with one hand outstretched, eyes wide.

I'd actually surprised him. Fancy that.

It also meant I'd messed up. The nature of the room was clear to me, now that I'd already walked into it. The music meant we couldn't hear. The flickering light didn't let us see the distortion, or at least, it made us look carefully. The paint should have been a giveaway. It was meant to let us determine which compartment was safe to pass through. Simple. Ever had figured it out, but too late.

I turned back around. The drinker stood over me, a full foot taller than I was, even hunched over. In the madly flickering light, the creature's red eyes were a constant. Its frame was gaunt, but it outweighed me easily. I knew how much power there was in those ropy-looking arms and those spidery fingers. I knew all about the paralytic venom in the spines that lined the tendrils hanging from its mouth. I knew how fast these things were, and I knew I was the only one in the room with a loaded weapon.

The timer continued to count down.

"You look thirsty." I cocked my head. "What? You don't want me – you want the people who put you here. Stick around after we're gone and you'll get your chance. No." I looked over my shoulder at Venge and Ever. "You can't have them. Don't give me that. You don't need it, you just want it. Fine. Have it your way." I left the cage and closed the gate. When I looked through, the drinker had gone transparent again, and I couldn't spot it in the flickering light. I opened the other cage, and the timer started ticking down again.

It wouldn't have attacked me, but trying to walk Venge and Ever past it… I wasn't so sure about that. They were both staring at me, of course, but I wasn't in the mood to talk, especially if I'd have to shout over the deafening music. I just wanted to get to Velvet. I'd have torn the gate off its hinges if I hadn't worried that it might be booby trapped.

The gate unlocked, and I opened it.

"Go," I said. Venge and Ever hurried through, and I went back and opened the drinker's gate, then followed, closing the safe gate behind me and pushing past Ever, who was at the door. I tried the handle. Locked.

I crushed it, then pulled it out of the door and threw it aside, pushing through. It was a stairwell. I started down, emerging into another narrow corridor. Doorways lining it had been bricked up, but there was a door at the end. Now the music sounded distant. My eyes adjusted to the light.

I was out. There were no more traps here. This door was locked too, and it was more solid than the other one. But the drywall wasn't. I punched through, splintering the wooden frame and reaching through to throw the latch. I opened it to find myself back in the garage.

There was the van, and the safe room, and the equipment, and the bodies. I'd just never looked at them from this angle. Not far away, I spotted another armored door. That was the one for the other route, no doubt.

I started toward it.

"Whoa – not so fast there, sport!" Stan's voice came to us loudly over the speakers. "Don't you want to collect your winnings?"

I stopped and looked up at the camera, then at the door to the safe room. I wasn't kidding myself. There was no way for me to break in there. I'd have liked to leave Stan to the drinker, but it wasn't an option. That didn't mean there was nothing I could do.

Ever was right behind me, no doubt saying something very logical – but I pushed him out of the way and went to the van. The keys weren't there. I flicked out a knife and jammed it into the ignition, then put it in reverse and drove it straight into the door, blocking it shut.

"Hey!" Stan burst out. I climbed down from the van, took out Lunch Box, and blew apart the speaker. The echoes died down, and the garage was refreshingly quiet. Now I could go without interruption – no, not without interruption. Ever was trying to hold me back, again, no doubt with very good reasons – but it didn't matter. The door burst open, and Velvet and Grigor emerged. Like us, both had obviously had a brush with explosives. They were covered in dust. There was a strip of cloth, stained dark, wrapped around Grigor's arm. Velvet had tied her hair back, and she was down to her undershirt, her vest and the top of her fatigues nowhere to be seen. Even so, she was covered in sweat. There was a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth, and makeshift bandages around both her hands. Their weapons were gone, but they were both walking under their own power. Barely.