The Rest is Riddles

Chapter 3: No choice at all

If Jane had had to rank 'most unpleasant ways to wake up', being woken to the clink of manacles closing over her wrists would have been near the top. Not quite in the upper third of worst-case scenarios—that was reserved for things like torture or plane crashes or snakes dropped on her head—but certainly middle tier, somewhere around the level of oversleeping an exam, or learning that your sister had spilled coffee on your Jason Momoa poster.

Heart in her throat, she studied her captor—a scrawny youth with a face obscured by cloth—before shifting to take in the rest of the room. The first thing she noticed was Nikolay, his hands and feet bound by ropes, a gag shoved in his mouth. Behind him stood a burly man, his nose and chin concealed beneath a cloth mask. A smoldering dent marred the burly man's arm, and the odor of burnt flesh permeated the room, but apart from his arm, the rest of him seemed unscathed.

As Jane's younger captor looped a chain through her manacles and fastened it to the bedframe, fear swelled in her chest. She tried to summon her magic. Heat flared in her palms momentarily, then receded.

Great.

The manacles must have a magic-dampening spell.

"You, over there! On the bed!"

Jane jumped, her gaze drawn back to the man holding Nikolay.

"Tell us where your wyvern is." The man held up a knife to Nikolay's throat. "Do it now, or this one dies!"

Something about the man's balding pate was familiar enough to give Jane pause. Then she realized where she'd seen him before. "You're the innkeeper," she said. "The one manning the counter this evening—"

Nikolay muttered something indistinguishable behind his gag—probably sarcastic praise for Jane's powers of deduction. The innkeeper kicked him.

"We don't know anything about a wyvern," Jane said hurriedly.

"Don't lie!" The innkeeper's hand on the knife handle trembled. "A wyvern was seen this afternoon carrying two Riders meeting your description. And he looks just like Sorcerer Nikolay. I saw him steal magic earlier! It's too convenient to be a coincidence. I don't care about the reward money, but I need your wyvern! Where is it?"

"Please," Jane said, "try to calm down."

"I am calm!"

"You are waving a knife."

The innkeeper glanced up at the blade, paled, and lowered it. His forehead glistened with sweat. He was obviously terrified—and, as Jane knew all too well, terrified people did the stupidest things.

Jane tried to bludgeon her sluggish brain into action. She had to keep the innkeeper talking. If she stayed calm, perhaps she could de-escalate the situation—persuade the man to release them. He seemed more desperate than malicious. "Why do you want a wyvern so badly?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

"That's none of your business!"

"It is my business if I'm going to give you our wyvern, isn't it?"

Sweat dripped down the man's brow. "My wife and son and daughter—we all need to leave this place. Get a head start up north before the Kanachskiy arrive—"

"I see." Jane nodded in what she hoped was an understanding way. "Er... not to be rude, but have you ever ridden a wyvern before? Because I can tell you right now that they're not to be messed with. They breathe fire, they're very hard to control, and if it's your first time riding one, you're just as likely to steer the wyvern towards the border as you are to steer it north. You'd have much better luck stealing horses."