recognized weakness and knew he wouldn't dare use Tommy as an escape. Still, she watched.
Though not as fun as the night before, she could see that Tommy enjoyed playing with Fawbry. And, to her surprise, Fawbry appeared equally amused. The sight of her cowardly prisoner slapping hands with her sweet boy made her feel odd because it seemed so normal. The boy amazed her. After all he had been through, he could still be a kid. She wished she could know his secret.
"Want to play?" Fawbry asked, while rubbing his red hands.
She was about to say No when Tommy pulled her over by the arm. They played the game, teasing and striking and feigning, until Tommy went to sleep. Without a word, Malja tied Fawbry up — a coward like him would run when she fell asleep. She returned to her book.
Fawbry shook his head. "I got no place to go, y'know." She didn't answer. "Right. I'll just be over here if you need me." He managed a few more sarcastic comments but eventually quieted down.
For awhile, Malja just soaked in the silence.
* * * *
Late the next day, they reached Ms. Nolan's mansion. Malja's heart sank. The main gate had been smashed open and bullet holes marred the concrete pillars. The number of bullet holes spoke to a large group attacking with great purpose — one doesn't waste bullets on a small target. Ms. Nolan was important, yet Malja couldn't help but wonder — maybe they had expected me to be there.
The gate guard lay dead on the ground, his white sash spattered in crimson. The four northern konapols never made it out of their cages. Their lifeless eyes stared at Malja, mocking her.
She dismounted, and with Tommy's help, untied Fawbry.
"You're letting me go?" he asked, rubbing his arms.
Malja checked the guard's body for weapons or anything useful, but found nothing. He'd already been searched. "You can go, but you won't."
"Really now? Why's that?"
"Because Ms. Nolan is probably dead. Somebody's working hard to kill off anybody who can help me with information. Who do you suppose is next?"
"Who? Me?" Fawbry hugged himself, looking smaller than ever before. "I don't know anything."
"You do, and you'll help me."
"But—"
"Do you think you're safer alone or by my side?" Malja asked and trudged into the mansion. She said nothing when she heard Fawbry follow.
The interior faired worse than the exterior. The intruders had run out of ammunition or working guns and resorted to melee weapons. Fires burned low in the corners offering enough light to see. Five people hung from the foyer beams — the staff.
"Perhaps the boy and I should wait outside," Fawbry said, but Tommy sped up, passing them all for the large room where they had first met Ms. Nolan.
The statue of Prophet Galot lay in three large pieces and thousands of tiny marble shards as if the Devastation had happened again. Furniture had been piled into meager barriers working toward the back hall. Ms. Nolan had mounted a noble defense though outnumbered and inexperienced.
Stepping over the cracked waterways, Malja saw a dark spot on the floor. Though she knew the answer, she leaned in to be sure — blood. Fawbry interrupted her thoughts. "You think anybody lived through this?"
Glass shattered down the hall followed by an anguished cry. The sound echoed throughout the mansion. The cry of a burning soul.
"Never mind," Fawbry said. "I don't want to know."
Tommy settled against a wall, pouting at Malja's body language. She needed him out of the way and safe. Though he clearly wanted to come with her, she was pleased that he knew what times called for what actions. Fawbry would have to learn.
"Stay here," she said. Fawbry opened his mouth, probably to protest any plan other than leaving right away, but Malja glowered at him.
With a nervous nod, he raised a finger as if making an intellectual point. "I'll stay here."
Malja slunk down the hall, wielding Viper and watching every flickering shadow. The intricately carved door to the Dry Room had been
Though not as fun as the night before, she could see that Tommy enjoyed playing with Fawbry. And, to her surprise, Fawbry appeared equally amused. The sight of her cowardly prisoner slapping hands with her sweet boy made her feel odd because it seemed so normal. The boy amazed her. After all he had been through, he could still be a kid. She wished she could know his secret.
"Want to play?" Fawbry asked, while rubbing his red hands.
She was about to say No when Tommy pulled her over by the arm. They played the game, teasing and striking and feigning, until Tommy went to sleep. Without a word, Malja tied Fawbry up — a coward like him would run when she fell asleep. She returned to her book.
Fawbry shook his head. "I got no place to go, y'know." She didn't answer. "Right. I'll just be over here if you need me." He managed a few more sarcastic comments but eventually quieted down.
For awhile, Malja just soaked in the silence.
* * * *
Late the next day, they reached Ms. Nolan's mansion. Malja's heart sank. The main gate had been smashed open and bullet holes marred the concrete pillars. The number of bullet holes spoke to a large group attacking with great purpose — one doesn't waste bullets on a small target. Ms. Nolan was important, yet Malja couldn't help but wonder — maybe they had expected me to be there.
The gate guard lay dead on the ground, his white sash spattered in crimson. The four northern konapols never made it out of their cages. Their lifeless eyes stared at Malja, mocking her.
She dismounted, and with Tommy's help, untied Fawbry.
"You're letting me go?" he asked, rubbing his arms.
Malja checked the guard's body for weapons or anything useful, but found nothing. He'd already been searched. "You can go, but you won't."
"Really now? Why's that?"
"Because Ms. Nolan is probably dead. Somebody's working hard to kill off anybody who can help me with information. Who do you suppose is next?"
"Who? Me?" Fawbry hugged himself, looking smaller than ever before. "I don't know anything."
"You do, and you'll help me."
"But—"
"Do you think you're safer alone or by my side?" Malja asked and trudged into the mansion. She said nothing when she heard Fawbry follow.
The interior faired worse than the exterior. The intruders had run out of ammunition or working guns and resorted to melee weapons. Fires burned low in the corners offering enough light to see. Five people hung from the foyer beams — the staff.
"Perhaps the boy and I should wait outside," Fawbry said, but Tommy sped up, passing them all for the large room where they had first met Ms. Nolan.
The statue of Prophet Galot lay in three large pieces and thousands of tiny marble shards as if the Devastation had happened again. Furniture had been piled into meager barriers working toward the back hall. Ms. Nolan had mounted a noble defense though outnumbered and inexperienced.
Stepping over the cracked waterways, Malja saw a dark spot on the floor. Though she knew the answer, she leaned in to be sure — blood. Fawbry interrupted her thoughts. "You think anybody lived through this?"
Glass shattered down the hall followed by an anguished cry. The sound echoed throughout the mansion. The cry of a burning soul.
"Never mind," Fawbry said. "I don't want to know."
Tommy settled against a wall, pouting at Malja's body language. She needed him out of the way and safe. Though he clearly wanted to come with her, she was pleased that he knew what times called for what actions. Fawbry would have to learn.
"Stay here," she said. Fawbry opened his mouth, probably to protest any plan other than leaving right away, but Malja glowered at him.
With a nervous nod, he raised a finger as if making an intellectual point. "I'll stay here."
Malja slunk down the hall, wielding Viper and watching every flickering shadow. The intricately carved door to the Dry Room had been
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