Chapter 24
The sharp pounding of a fist against wood made Zarabeth flinch, every sound a surprise to her ears since she was currently left to the darkness which the cloth tied over her eyes afforded.
She fidgeted in the momentary lull of the situation, knowing it would do her no good, but still trying to adjust the wadded fabric stuck in her mouth, most of her conscious efforts focused on not gagging at its ghastly taste.
Ewen had had enough of what he'd so affectionately called her "twisted spitfire tongue", the smuggler more than convinced that she'd put some spell over her guard to get him to act the way he had. He figured that if he merely impaired her sight, she'd speak all the more. But if she had neither sense at her disposal, he thought everyone would finally only see her as nothing but the dead weight leverage that he fervently believed she was.
Zara started in surprise as a hand was laid against her good arm, whoever it was leading her into what she could only guess was some structure or another, the sound of the paving stones beneath her feet now replaced by the scuff of unstable wood as the smell of heavy dust overwhelmed her senses.
Low conversation filled the space around her, a few in languages she did not recognize. There couldn't have been more than a dozen as their company of nearly twice that many made their way inside. The general noise didn't quiet down as soon as they were all assembled. It only grew, if nothing else, the smuggler band's presence having not the authoritative effect Zara had guessed they were hoping for.
"Well bless ma brass buckles! McCoy! I'tis you!"
The voice rising above the rest caused the room to instantly fall into silence, the sound of it too familiar to Zarabeth's ears to be mistaken for that of anyone else.
She instinctively attempted to call out to him, the wad of cloth muffling her words to barely audible grunts before the hand on her arm tightened painfully in warning.
From somewhere to her right, Ewen could be heard stepping forward, his voice unmistakably displeased.
"I hardly expected to see you here, Long John. For what do we owe this momentous surprise?"
"Well, I heard tell of a gatherin' goin' on round here. Sounded like I'd be hard pressed a fool to miss such a t'ing. Seems I was right."
"This has nothing to do with you, cyborg."
"Oh now, wait just a minute t'ere. I do believe it's got everyt'ing ta do wit' me. I know what it is you're tryin' to get done here, and I only ask that ya reconsiders it."
"Why in the blue blazes would I ever do that?"
"I'm sorry Ewen. Where in Etherium's name are me manners? Here, sit. I'll pour ya somethin' cold. Whiskey suit ya? Good, 'cause t'ats all I got."
Zarabeth tried to keep breathing calmly, unable to help how she still flinched at the scraping sound of a chair being pulled out, followed by what seemed like Ewen's hesitant steps toward the seat offered to him.
She wanted so badly to just break away from the hand restraining her, to run to Silver, to feel safe again, but she knew that that was the last thing she could do.
The high pitched clinking of glass resounded through the stiff silence of the room, followed by the low exhaling of two men satisfied with their drink. This unceremonious ritual went on a few more times before Silver cleared his throat, his tone low yet casual as though speaking in confidence with an old friend.
"Listen, Ewen. I understands what yer doin' here, but rebellion ain't all it's cracked up ta be. Civil war, in this system's capitol no less, it's just downright bad for business."
"Not the way I see it. Rebels can't fight without something to shoot with. We have more than our fair shares of weaponry and ammunition. We've just brought enough to give these unhappy people a generous shove in the right direction."
"T'is just business then, not patriotism. Ewen, sentiments like t'ose get sought out more quickly than ya might guess. Supply an' demand is a funny t'ing. Who says you'll come out of all this unscathed. Hmm?"
"I perfectly understand the risks, Johnny boy. You just watch your step before you get squashed in the fray. My business is with Gantry, not you. So where is he?"
"Oh, you needn't worry there. I sent t'e man off before ya got here. Ya see, McCoy, business isn't about honoring deals. It's 'bout the highest bidder, and that'd be me. You're not t'e only man wit' connections an' fancy guns."
All at once, the room was echoing with the sound of one gun being cocked after another, the chair hosting Ewen scraping sharply against the floor as he abruptly stood, anger fuming from every syllable.
"What did you do?"
Despite the venom in the smuggler's voice, Silver's casual tone remained unchanged.
"Oh, now don't be rash, Ewen. All I'm sayin' is dat you've gotta go back to Inyang now. No point in stirrin' up a fight when t'ere's not gonna be one. Okay? I talked it over wit' Gantry an' he agrees wit' me. Ewen, each an' every one of t'ese people will die if t'is moves forward. They're no match for the likes of Rhitan's forces, no matter how determined. You'd be waitin' on the business of dead men."
The second chair moved back as Silver stood to face Ewen better, his low grunting like that of a tired old man as he finished his thought without any mind. "Dead men can't pay."
"They don't talk either."
Zara didn't need to see to understand that Silver was now most likely staring down the barrel of a gun.
"McCoy, I never had ya pegged as one for dramatics, but that sounded pretty near rehearsed."
"You can't joke your way out of this, Silver. The only way you're leaving here is feet first flat on that gargoyle face of yours."
"Ya wanna talk faces? Yer mug's enough ta make a grown man sick, if ya ask me."
"Well I didn't ask. If you know what's good for you, cyborg, you'll stay put till I can fix the mess you've made for me. I'm going to find Gantry myself."
"Hold it there, ya blighter. I never said ya could leave. Gentlemen, t'e door if you please? Thank ya. Rhitan's forces are on t'eir way as we be speakin' and it's bad manners ta leave a party early."
"You treacherous-"
"Now, now. I wouldn't be talkin' treason if I was you. Not since yer bound to be hangin' for dat there very reason. Ya got me?"
"If I do, I won't be hanging alone. I'll see to that."
"I do believe them's fightin' words."
"Perceptive old man."
"Old man? Hah! I may be rusty, but I'm far from anything but dat. Boys? Restrain t'e guests. We needs ta make certain they stay put till our friends arrive ta take 'em."
The room simultaneously erupted with the sounds of scuffling, cursing, and a gunshot every few moments to make Zarabeth drop to the ground in paralyzing fear, her inability to see heightening her senses almost more than she could bare.
She tried to move away from where she had curled up, her bound hands forcing her to scoot over the uneven flooring like a limbless creature as she headed for what she hoped was a safer corner of the room.
Her sounds in terror were lost to the gag crammed in her mouth as the undeniable weight of someone landed hard on her legs, her efforts to pull herself out from underneath the presence of the person getting her nowhere. He was most certainly dead. No amount of kicking or struggling was doing anything for Zara, the thought of being hit in the chaos around her the only thing to keep her trying.
Lost in her own desperation to get free, Zarabeth didn't notice how the clatter of fighting resounding through the room slowly died away until the heavy fall of two feet planted themselves right beside her face. She paused in her reckless struggling to look up, realizing as soon as she had done so that it was a useless act with her eyes still tightly covered. Her entire body shook with the adrenaline coursing through her, the tense quiet around her only broken by the muffled objections of what she assumed to be some brigand or another far behind her.
She shrunk back with an instinctively soft whimper as a hand, more gentle than she expected, was laid on her back, unable to think of anything else as the wad of cloth trapped in her mouth was removed followed by the one tied over her eyes.
"Silver!"
"Zara, lass. What in Etherium's name are ya doin' 'ere?"
She didn't care how her arm stung as she tightly hugged the cyborg the moment he'd freed her bound wrists, the girl burying her face against his chest in sheer relief. "I...I didn't know if Morph found you. I thought you wouldn't get here in time. Jim, he was-"
"I know lass. It's alright. I sent Morphy back ta Jimbo soon as I got 'ere. Yer friend, that one girl, she an' her crew were wit' him last I knew."
"Genevieve made it to him? That's a relief. W-William. Is he-"
"Calm yerself, Zara. The lad ya mean? Look, he's right over t'ere safe an' sound."
Turning her head this way and that, Zarabeth was finally able to make sense of her surroundings. The room was more extensive than she'd pictured, though with ceilings hardly reaching taller than Silver stood, the peeling paint covering the walls a musty brown color to match that of the rotting wood floor beneath her. As she'd guessed, Silver's men had nearly been outnumbered, but most of Ewen's crew who weren't already lying strewn across the floor were securely bound and gagged in a fashion even more confining than what they'd inflicted upon her, the fortunate stragglers who remained untied still securely restrained.
Scanning the faces of the brigands, Zara recognized almost each and every one of them, giving a small start at the icy gaze she met upon catching sight of Ewen, unable to tell who the look was directed at, her or Silver. Regardless of whomever it was meant for, it still made her squirm uncomfortably.
Zara managed to look away as she huddled against Silver once more, feeling truly safe for the first time since the attack those short nights ago. Everything had fallen apart so quickly. How did it come to this?
Silver seemed equally content to simply hold the trembling girl in his arms, smiling to himself as he timidly ran his hand through her tangled hair.
"Alrigh' gentlemen. That'd be all. I'll be seein' yous next week, eh? Good lads. T'anks a million."
Zara watched as the men who had come with Silver piled Ewen's men against one side of the room, taking final measures to secure them before each one in his own time left the small building with only a small nod in recognition toward the cyborg.
It was so quiet now.
For a long time, neither he nor Zarabeth spoke, but it was Silver who hesitantly broke the silence between them, trying to look her over as he carefully watched for her reaction.
"Zara, they...did they hurt ya? Are ya truly alright?"
Smiling softly up at him in response to his concern, she shook her head slowly as she closed her eyes with his gentle touch against the bruise that had formed over her cheek. "Nothing that can't heal on its own. Don't worry about me, I'll live."
Taking another moment to stay quiet before looking around again, Zara couldn't help her curiosity as she managed to sit upright on her own.
"Silver, those people who came with you, they're yours? Like your crew?"
"Oh, no lass, not'in' like dat. I only wanted Ewen ta think so. T'ose folks are t'e gentlemen I play cards wit' each weekend. Told 'em I'd buy their drink for the next two if t'ey came wit' me ta do this. Worked right well if I do say so."
"I guess I'd have to agree. Had me fooled. And you're ok? Inyang's treating you well?"
"Only as ta be expected. Better den Tresslar ever did."
"Easy enough."
Zara felt so relaxed in these moments of peace, her mind unknowingly ignoring something far worse than what they'd just overcome until the distant sound of feet fast approaching from outside brought her mind back into frantic awareness.
"Silver, what are we doing? You have to get out of here! You said the officers are coming-"
"They're already here lass."
"Don't just sit there! Silver you have to run! If they catch you-"
"Sit down, Zarabeth. Yer in no state for anymore excitement. No, lass. T'ere's no reason ta try anyt'ing now."
"You...You've been running for all these years, and you choose now to just sit here? Silver, go!"
The cyborg gently laid his hands on either of the girl's shoulders, his look far too understanding and calm for the circumstances, his words soft like those of a father instructing a child.
"Zara, I can't leave ya here alone. T'ose men out t'ere are gonna wonder how this came about. An' I know you. You do everyt'ing in yer power ta keep from talkin' of me. I love ya for dat. But lass, it won't be good 'nough for 'em. I has ta stay. And yer right. I have been runnin' a long time. Too long, lass."
It was all Zarabeth could do to keep the tears forming in her eyes from falling, releasing her trembling breath as her grip tightened around the handfuls of his shirt she'd been holding to so desperately. She couldn't help how she tried to argue back, her words barely audible with her efforts to keep from breaking down completely.
"Silver, please...Don't do this to us...to me and Jim. You have to keep fighting."
She had only seen that sad smile once before on him, the despairing look of a man saying goodbye, probably for the last time.
The tears Zara had tried so hard to stop made their way over her dirt smeared cheeks as she firmly shut her eyes, leaning into the cyborg's hand as his thumb gently cleared away the wet trails left across her painted face.
"Zarabeth, t'is is my last fight. An' as far as I be concerned, I won it too."
He stopped her head's relentless shaking in denial of it with his small kiss against her forehead, the touch of his hands on her cheeks the last thing Zara clearly understood as the sound of splintering wood, echoing orders, and the heavy tread of boots against the floor rang in her ears. Hands too rough for their own good tore her from Silver as he was half led half dragged away from her back into the open streets, the cyborg's gaze never once leaving hers until he was completely out of sight.
She couldn't move.
She couldn't speak.
The words of others around her asking hurried question after question fell on deaf ears as she sat there in complete loss, staring out at nothing as a single thought, sickening and terrible, incessantly ran through her shattered mind, a thought which left her feeling all but paralyzed beneath its weight.
They were going to kill Silver.