Indentured (Book 2 of the Dana Halliday series)

BIG BROTHER: HALLIDAY EDITION. BEGGARS AND HORSES. THE PRINCESS.

The prison had held a few dozen inmates, and most of them were long gone into the night. The guards, not as dedicated as Wys, had fled along with all the tourists and Indentured that had been able to make it to the shipyard. Without power, the cursory technology holding them had failed. I wondered briefly what Kez would have done with a prison riot, if the inmates had managed to cut the power and take guards hostage and whatnot.

I chuckled humorlessly. Why, in short order there would be a pile of massacred guards and prisoners, of course. Unlike Wys, the Crae would have shed no tears over staff that couldn't do their duty.

The collapse of the north end—at least, that's the direction I'd decided it was—had killed several guards, prisoners, and a few Indentured who lived and worked there. The south part was relatively intact, and our little group invaded the laundry.

I left them there, gathering bedding and clothing, and began combing the nearby rooms and hallways.

While I was looking for anyone or any creature who might need assistance, my main concern was Perineb Olla. I hadn't heard anything about the Bruttar woman through the grapevine.

The prison was silent, save for a trickling of water somewhere, and the faint beeping of some battery-powered device. I hoped there wasn't a nuclear reactor or something preparing to melt down.

A shuffle of footsteps from a room to my left froze me for a few moments. I'd hung Wys's sword through a strap on my rucksack, but I hesitated as I reached for it. I'm not a violent person, as a general rule, though perhaps Wys herself might be the exception who proved it. I couldn't think of anyone in the prison who would bear me much ill will—or anyone I'd want to hurt, for that matter.

"The monsters haven't gotten you yet, have they?"

It was just Fid the Gardener, of course. Still, his quavery old voice sent an icicle splash down my spine, and I took an involuntary step away.

I did my best not to show fear. "Oh, it's you, Fid. Do you need help?"

"This is my home. I need only to die here. The monsters will be merciful."

I shuddered. "Well, come join us if you change your mind. Say, have you seen Perineb? A Bruttar woman? Red scales, light feathers?"

"The feather-head was sold to the monsters in the mountains. They probably have eaten her by now." The old Sturv's voice was high and cracked, but gleeful. He shuffled away down the hall, muttering and mumbling about monsters, then added over his shoulder, "Beware the krana!"

I felt something move against my back, and whirled. Dross had slipped up behind me and removed Wys's sword from my backpack.

"Hey!" I hit him full in the face with my light. "I'd like that back, please."

The pirate blinked, smiling as he turned the sword over in his hands, and spoke in Standard. "This blade killed my friends." He ran a finger along the hooked tip. "I should like to break it into many pieces."

I held up my left hand so he could see the bandage. I wanted that sword back, as if I needed it to rescue the princess, and maybe slay a dragon. "And it took this finger."

"Do you even know how to use this?" Dross gave the sword a little pirate's flourish, cutting the air in an X formation. "Usually it's a ceremonial weapon. Only the real fanatics use it in earnest." He flipped the sword, catching the hilt in one hand and the blunt edge of the blade in the other. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me about our mutual friend. This is an heirloom, you know—passed down at least ten generations, if I'm not mistaken about the workmanship."