Her eyes darted about the gloom, fixing on each of her friends in turn. It took only a moment to do the head count before she blurted, “Where’s Chuck?” More urgently, she asked, “And where’s TJ? We have to find him!” She began to get up, but dizziness swept through her. That, combined with the large berserker’s restraining hand, plopped her back onto her rear.
“Shh,” Jimmy whispered, not unkindly. “Sit still. You’re recovering from your healing, so chill for a few minutes. If you pass back out it won’t do us any good at all.” He kept his hand on her throughout a couple ineffectual struggles until she gave up the battle and heaved out a sigh.
“OK,” she finally said, yanking her arm away from him. “I’m chill. Now answer my question. Where are they?”
“I was awake when we were brought down, so I know that TJ is across the hall. They must have wanted to make sure we couldn’t untie or ungag or unwhatever him, so there are two doors between us and him.” He paused a heartbeat, then continued softly, “Chuck ditched us. Again.”
“What do you mean ditched us?” Allison shot back angrily. “He wouldn’t do that!” Jimmy just looked at her until she added uncertainly, “Would he?”
From the other side of the cell, Stu spoke up. “Of course he would. He did it back at the brigand camp, and we all know he’s never wanted a stand-up fight. He was up in that tree of his, watching the whole time, and never said a word. At least not before I got knocked out.” This was the most Stu had said at once since the brigand camp, and Allison could hear the venom dripping from his words.
Jimmy put his hand back on her shoulder. “Whatever happened, he’s not here. We have more important things to worry about right now. My body’s already begun to heal itself some, but Stu’s pretty beaten up, and we haven’t heard a thing from TJ, so he’s going to need some help too. Then we’ve got to find a way out of here. I don’t know why they kept us alive, but there’s no way I’m going down without a fight.”
Allison took a deep breath and nodded, then tried once again to stand. This time, her friend’s large hands helped her rise, steadying her as dizziness came and went. Three strides across the cell brought her to where Stu lay in a heap. She crouched next to him.
“Tell me where it hurts,” she said, followed by, “the worst.”
Stu looked back at her with a wry grin. “One leg feels like it’s broken. And maybe a few ribs. Arms are OK. Head is . . . well, it’s pretty rough.”
“OK, sit tight,” she said, placing her hands on his injured leg and channeling her healing gifts. His leg grew warm to the touch, then hot, but she held on until she knew that the bones had knitted. Sparing a quick glance toward his face, she saw his jaw clenched and pain lines etched into his forehead. When it was all done, they both let out sighs of relief. “How’s that?” Allison asked.
“Much better. I’m sure I can walk on it now, maybe even run. But,” he added with a grimace, “if it’s all the same to you, let’s leave the ribs for another time. That was pretty intense.”
Allison shook her head. “Even if you wanted it, I couldn’t give it. I’m just about toast myself. I need another nap. If you guys figure out a way to get us out of here, let me know.” She let out a big yawn and was soon curled up on top of the straw.
“You got it,” Jimmy muttered, and returned to the cell door to inspect it for weaknesses yet again. He hadn’t found anything, but at least it passed the time.
CHAPTER 20
Chuck sat up in bed, alert. He didn’t know for sure how much time had passed but trusted himself to have woken to the internal alarm clock he’d set before going to sleep. He found it funny how just a few days before he could barely get himself out of bed to make it to school. Now that the stakes had been raised, his body had adapted. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sprang up. Several of the candles were still flickering, though most had melted down to nubs. He took one and held it up to the amulet he’d taken from the vault. There were a series of arcane markings around the perimeter, and five rubies surrounding a central diamond. Something about the pattern seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. One thing he was sure of, however, was that wearing it wouldn’t curse him. He didn’t know why he was sure, but that sort of intuition had never led him wrong, and he was willing to trust it now.
He slipped it over his neck to see what would happen. He didn’t feel stronger, or smarter, or more agile, and as far as he could tell he was still visible and hadn’t learned how to fly. He shrugged and made ready to leave. A drawer revealed extra candles, and he lit one for his trip back downstairs. He needed to move quietly and quickly, so he left his satchel on the bed, hoping to come back for it later. While he decided to bring Stu’s arrows and the bow he had found, he left Allison’s mace next to his pack on the bed. If it came down to it, she could hit things with a torch just as easily. Reflecting on how new to the game she was, he revised his thought to miss things just as easily, then chuckled.
With one last look around the bedroom for anything useful, Chuck padded down the hallway. He took the stairs to the lower level and soon approached the door to the gallery. He put his eye to the peephole beside the door, hoping that his clock had been accurate and he was now in the kobolds’ downtime. The gallery still had torchlight flooding everywhere, but the foot traffic had almost completely disappeared. Figuring almost completely was as good as he was going to get, he took his eye from the hole and approached the door.
He placed his candle on the ground, then bent his shoulders to the task of lifting the bar that braced it. Grunting with exertion, Chuck discovered the bar was much heavier when he was holding it up instead of the brackets. That explained why the door hadn’t been breached: a sizeable ram would have been needed to break through. Wishing desperately that the amulet had granted him super strength, he heaved the bar up and over one of the brackets on the wall, easing the end down to the ground. He took a few moments to catch his breath and then heaved on the other side. The wood lifted but slipped out of his grasp and tumbled to the ground with a crash that echoed up and down the long corridor. Cursing, he ran back to the peephole to see if anyone on the other side had heard it.
He held his breath, waiting for some sign of alarm. At last he saw one of the kobolds passing through his field of vision perhaps fifty feet away, and it didn’t spare even a glance at where he was hiding. Either the noise hadn’t been heard, or it had been dismissed as one of the typical sounds you hear in old hillside fortresses. He let out a sigh of relief and returned to the door.
There was no locking mechanism that he could see. Presumably this door was kept open during normal times and was only meant to be closed in times of siege. What it did have, however, was a series of hand-operated dead bolts that secured it to the stone on both sides, the floor, and the ceiling. Most moved easily, though a couple had rusted into place and needed some light tapping to free them. He didn’t worry about the noise; if no one had heard the beam dropping, the light rat-a-tat would be safe. At last, the door was completely unlocked and he was ready to open it. One more look through the peephole indicated that the coast was clear, and he cracked the door inward.
He expected to find a curtain hanging in front of him, but there was nothing at all blocking the view of the door from the gallery. It must have been amazingly well hidden for it to have survived this long undiscovered. He slid the door open a little more and then slipped through. When he turned to pull it closed behind him, he was surprised to see a big leather strap attached to the wood with heavy bolts at waist height. This was obviously a handle. He grabbed it and pulled the door closed, then looked around in confusion. How in the world had the kobolds not noticed it?