how much sarcasm he poured on it. Strom appeared determined but there was the slightest hint at the corner of his eyes: fear.
"How long do you need?" Strom asked, his voice low.
"I'm ready," Martik breathed. Nothing he owned was worth the risk.
"I'm ready too," Osbourne said.
Supplies already waited in the Upper Chinawpa valley. Beyond what they were wearing, they would be leaving their entire lives behind. In a way, their lives had been taken from them long before, and perhaps they would now take them back.
"I'll go first," Strom said. "Wait half a turn of the sand clock, and one of you follow. Then the other another half turn after that. Get to the docks, and we should be free. Deep breaths. Relax."
With that, Strom strode out as if nothing were amiss. Martik wasn't certain he could match the feat, and he had serious doubts about Osbourne.
"You go next," Osbourne said. "I'll be right behind you."
"You're not giving up already, are you?" Martik asked.
Osbourne laughed. "No. But I know I might give myself away. I'm not very good at hiding things. Strom has gotten better at it over the years."
"It helps to have arms like dragon jaws," Martik said, and Osbourne couldn't argue. Strom wasn't a man to be tangled with.
Half the sand had passed through the sand clock, and Martik let it run. With a nod, he walked into the hall, still unsure if Osbourne would follow. Shadows cast by the torchlight danced and taunted Martik as he walked. Gone were the days of herald globes lighting the halls. Those had been hoarded and stashed somewhere perhaps only Trinda herself knew. It was another puzzle. Did the girl hoard them to keep others from using them or so she could use them herself? Her alliance with Allette indicated she might be amassing a deadly arsenal for her own military purposes.
Martik realized he was mumbling to himself as he passed people in the halls, and he wondered what he might have been saying when people passed by. He would have to pay more attention. It was his nature to fixate on problems and ignore everything else, especially, as in this case, when his subconscious was handling the walking. Passing through the great hall made him feel as if everyone were watching him. They could easily see he was on his way to escape from Dragonhold, and surely he would be intercepted at any time. Every step caused his heart to beat faster, and sweat was running down his cheek by the time he reached the archway leading to the God's Eye. This would be the easiest place to stop him, and a man was moving in his direction. With every step, he wanted to go faster, to run, but he could not. That would ruin everything. He had to remain calm. The man was not someone he recognized, but when their eyes met, Martik quickly looked away, something he instantly regretted.
The man passed by the archway and moved back toward the kitchens. With a deep breath, Martik entered the hall, unable to appreciate the architecture as he usually did. He prayed with every step. When Strom saw him, he let out an audible sigh then looked embarrassed for having done so.
"Sound carries over water," Martik said softly.
Strom flushed and nodded.
Waiting for Osbourne was torture. Strom had turned over a sand clock when Martik arrived, and he frequently checked it. When half the sand had run out, Osbourne was not there, and a barge appeared. They would get but one chance at this, and Martik looked at Strom.
"I can't leave him."
Martik nodded. Either all of them went or none of them went. A moment after having that thought, Martik let out an audible sigh of relief. Strom gave him a look that said, Really?
The barge landed as Osbourne walked up, and they boarded without his ever stopping.
"Go," Strom said to the bargeman, whom Martik didn't recognize.
The man responded by pushing them into deep water. Every instant of the journey was etched in Martik's mind; he'd never been so frightened and exhilarated at the same time. They were so close to their goal,
"How long do you need?" Strom asked, his voice low.
"I'm ready," Martik breathed. Nothing he owned was worth the risk.
"I'm ready too," Osbourne said.
Supplies already waited in the Upper Chinawpa valley. Beyond what they were wearing, they would be leaving their entire lives behind. In a way, their lives had been taken from them long before, and perhaps they would now take them back.
"I'll go first," Strom said. "Wait half a turn of the sand clock, and one of you follow. Then the other another half turn after that. Get to the docks, and we should be free. Deep breaths. Relax."
With that, Strom strode out as if nothing were amiss. Martik wasn't certain he could match the feat, and he had serious doubts about Osbourne.
"You go next," Osbourne said. "I'll be right behind you."
"You're not giving up already, are you?" Martik asked.
Osbourne laughed. "No. But I know I might give myself away. I'm not very good at hiding things. Strom has gotten better at it over the years."
"It helps to have arms like dragon jaws," Martik said, and Osbourne couldn't argue. Strom wasn't a man to be tangled with.
Half the sand had passed through the sand clock, and Martik let it run. With a nod, he walked into the hall, still unsure if Osbourne would follow. Shadows cast by the torchlight danced and taunted Martik as he walked. Gone were the days of herald globes lighting the halls. Those had been hoarded and stashed somewhere perhaps only Trinda herself knew. It was another puzzle. Did the girl hoard them to keep others from using them or so she could use them herself? Her alliance with Allette indicated she might be amassing a deadly arsenal for her own military purposes.
Martik realized he was mumbling to himself as he passed people in the halls, and he wondered what he might have been saying when people passed by. He would have to pay more attention. It was his nature to fixate on problems and ignore everything else, especially, as in this case, when his subconscious was handling the walking. Passing through the great hall made him feel as if everyone were watching him. They could easily see he was on his way to escape from Dragonhold, and surely he would be intercepted at any time. Every step caused his heart to beat faster, and sweat was running down his cheek by the time he reached the archway leading to the God's Eye. This would be the easiest place to stop him, and a man was moving in his direction. With every step, he wanted to go faster, to run, but he could not. That would ruin everything. He had to remain calm. The man was not someone he recognized, but when their eyes met, Martik quickly looked away, something he instantly regretted.
The man passed by the archway and moved back toward the kitchens. With a deep breath, Martik entered the hall, unable to appreciate the architecture as he usually did. He prayed with every step. When Strom saw him, he let out an audible sigh then looked embarrassed for having done so.
"Sound carries over water," Martik said softly.
Strom flushed and nodded.
Waiting for Osbourne was torture. Strom had turned over a sand clock when Martik arrived, and he frequently checked it. When half the sand had run out, Osbourne was not there, and a barge appeared. They would get but one chance at this, and Martik looked at Strom.
"I can't leave him."
Martik nodded. Either all of them went or none of them went. A moment after having that thought, Martik let out an audible sigh of relief. Strom gave him a look that said, Really?
The barge landed as Osbourne walked up, and they boarded without his ever stopping.
"Go," Strom said to the bargeman, whom Martik didn't recognize.
The man responded by pushing them into deep water. Every instant of the journey was etched in Martik's mind; he'd never been so frightened and exhilarated at the same time. They were so close to their goal,
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