Being a journalist meant putting your life in danger for the next big scoop. This time though, Charlotte might have gotten in too deep.
Wrists bound behind her back, she sat on the ground, tied to a pole. A few bruises here and there but she'd gotten out mostly okay. Aside from being a hostage of the Treasure Hoarders.
The bandana-clad bandits moved around their hideout dropping off cargo onto sumpter beasts. Crates of Sinthe, no doubt. Masseira's crew never stopped peddling that crap even with their boss gone.
An Eremite warrior directed them to move along. He finally noticed her and barked at some guys.
"What's this?"
A Hoarder explained, "We caught her snooping around our base. She had this." He held up Monsieur Verite. Seeing her beloved camera in that scoundrel's paws made her blood boil.
The Eremite warrior narrowed his eyes.
Brandishing his gigantic axe, he swaggered over to Charlotte.
"Steambird, I presume."
Charlotte couldn't hide her surprise. The man might have smirked beneath his turban.
"I've been reading your exposes on our work. Really thorough stuff."
With a casual air, he sharpened his axe on a whetstone. The rasping sound made her cringe a little.
The cavern shook. Earth fell from the ceiling and the ground trembled. The mercenary grumbled a curse to the tunneling Wenuts. Blasted creatures.
He shifted his attention to her.
"Here's how this works," he continued. "We're going to have a little interview. I ask you a question. You answer wrong, you lose a finger."
He clasped her wrist. His axe hovered ominously over her thumb. Beneath the bandana, his breath poured over her nostrils, rancid and foul. This man hadn't been brushing his teeth lately.
"Question one," he said, "did you come alone?"
"Yes," she said honestly.
The blade just grazed her skin, making a paper-thin cut on her skin. He expected she'd panic and change her story. But Charlotte remained calm.
"Question two," he said, "how'd you find us?"
She realized if she shared too much it would endanger her contacts. If she said too little though, she'd lose her finger. A half-truth then.
"I had an Eremite buddy who mentioned some weird stuff going on in these parts. I wanted to look into it."
"Name."
The axe bit a millimeter into her thumb. She gritted her teeth, swallowing her scream.
"Dehya."
The mercenary stiffened, removing the axe from her and grabbing her throat. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. Dehya the Flame Mane, now there was a name every mercenary knew.
"You're friends with the Flame Mane?"
"Basically," she replied tensely.
The mercenary scowled. "Does she know you're here?"
"Don't know."
The ground shook again. More loudly this time. Dust fell around them, coating them in brown powder. Mercenary tightened his grip on her throat. He gave her just enough breath to answer his questions but not much more.
"Tell me," he said, "who would know?"
"Probably my boyfriend. He's always keeping tabs on me."
The mercenary snickered. "Your boyfriend? Well, hope you didn't love him too much. If he's anything like you, he won't be alive much longer. So, your hubby got a name?"
"Aether."
The mercenary went pale. "Aether? As in the traveler who beat dragons and gods?"
"Fraid so."
At that second, the tunnel shook. Sand spewed from the entrance along with several screams. Hoarders came flying into the chamber, landing in one big unconscious heap.
The mercenary wheeled around. Amidst the sand suspended in the air, a man strode forward, his figure a silhouette.
Sword glinting, elemental energy pulsing at his fingertips, he looked like a demon. His eyes had a crimson hue amidst the sand cloud. Blood-curdling growls came from his mouth.
The mercenary wet himself.
Charlotte saw her chance. Using both legs, she kicked the guy's legs. He stumbled and, in that moment, Aether hurled electro blasts into his chest and knocked him out.
He crossed the room and quickly cut her binds. Before she could thank him, he pulled her into a hug.
"Don't scare me like this again."
She felt a little guilty, hearing the concern in his voice. "Sorry."
His expression softened. "I'm just glad you're okay. Just, try to be more careful next time."
"Okay. On the bright side, we got one heck of a scoop."