Hour of Mischief (3 page)

“You okay?” I asked, landing lightly on the floor next to Parker.

Parker nodded. “Thanks.”

“You owe me one,” I said, straightening. The smoke screen had started to dissipate and through the thin film of grey, I spotted Sid fighting two other guards near the exit. The exit we couldn’t take until we had Sylvia. Ordinarily, we would have made our escape by now, but Sylvia was still trapped. And with the other vigilants regaining their bearings, I didn’t know how much longer we could hold them off.

“Sid!” I called, hoping my friend would hear me in the midst of the chaos. “The cage. Does it have a lock you can shoot off?”

“I tried.” Sid appeared to my right, having dealt with his guards. He had his “just in case” guns in hand. How many bullets remained? How long until we ran through our store of weapons? “But that lock is blessed by Amontillado. There’s no shooting it off.”

“Damn,” I responded. I took a few steps toward the cage, intending to break through the bars with my steel arm. Before I could try, a voice broke through the cacophony of footsteps, steel-on-steel and gunfire.

“Drop your weapons, now!”

It was the head vigilant guard again and I didn’t plan on paying him any mind until I saw where he stood.

Right next to Sylvia, aiming his gun at her head.

Parker froze in the middle of pulling out another chaser beetle and Sid lowered his gun a fraction. Sylvia’s eyes filled with barely repressed terror.

“No, Janet. Get out of here,” she pleaded.

The guard pressed the barrel against her head. “You try to run and she dies,”

Sylvia’s hair reflected the light of the gold-lined gun just as it had the artifact lying at her feet. Sid and Parker both looked to me for instruction. It was my job to keep them from dying and I wasn’t going to test the vigilant with Sylvia’s life on the line. Slowly, I opened my hand and let my weapons clatter to the ground.

My friends followed suit.

he sky above me was a dreary grey when I entered the place that would probably be my coffin. Stealing wasn’t punishable by death but one could only expect to live so long when trapped in the damp, underground cells of the city.

We passed through the gate of the prison into a stone courtyard, absent of all colors besides shades of grey. Only sparse plant life peeked out between the cracks in the stone, but even the tiny blades of grass had lost their color. Above us, on the archway of the gate, were Axira’s sacred words, etched into the iron. “The Abyss Takes All In Time.”

Not a prison of optimists, I guess.

In the center of the stone courtyard, surrounded on all sides by towering walls and heavily armed guards, lay a single manhole, the prison’s entrance. According to the aristocrats, this form of punishment fit slum dwellers nicely. Sneaky little volpes belonged below ground, so why shouldn’t we? We ranked lower than vermin to them. Lower than dirt.

Admittedly, we didn’t try to make a good impression, considering the dozens of sacred artifacts we had stolen from their temples. But I didn’t want to be on the good side of anyone who strutted like the filthy rich, center-ring inhabitants of Fortuna anyway.

One of our escorts slid the manhole aside with a rusty screech. Moist air rose up from the prison like the breath of some great beast, filling my nose with its putrid stench. I tasted bile on the back of my tongue, but gagged it down. Living in the slums all my life, I’d adapted to bad smells, but this hole delivered a new kind of odor.

I sized up the two towering guards on either side of me. The vigilant squad sure picked giants and strong ones at that. One even had a mechanical arm like me and the steel-plated hand currently held my shoulder in a crushing grip. My flesh shoulder unfortunately.

Even if I could wriggle away from my captors, I wouldn’t make it past the other guards. Vigilants trained far too well in marksmanship. And out in the open with no cover, I’d be dead in a few ticks. Especially since my red hair stuck out like a target in this colorless place. Besides, I couldn’t leave my team.

A few feet to the side, Sylvia gulped as she looked down into the pit before us. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes watered, either from terror, disgust, or both. This would be twice as bad for her because of her claustrophobia. If there’s one place a claustrophobic girl with a propensity for anxiety attacks shouldn’t be, it’s underground.

Yet, when she caught my eye, she flashed a brave smile and I cursed myself yet again for screwing up our heist. If I had collected sufficient information, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.

Sid and Parker looked equally unhappy with our new living arrangements as the head vigilant unlocked the grating of the hole. But they would never admit it––Sid never talked, and Parker didn’t like giving me fodder for my frequent jabs.

I could see his hands shaking from here, but this was hardly the time to tease him.

The guard ushered us toward the hole, and I stepped forward, gazing into the depths. The rusty iron ladder disappeared into an endless sea of darkness. “The Abyss takes all in time”, indeed. It seemed the vigilants had constructed a replica of Axira’s realm right here in Fortuna.

Lucky us.

I whistled. “Wow, sure goes down far.”

Sylvia gulped again, and I regretted my nonchalant comment immediately.

“But uh, I’m sure it’s really spacious down there,” I added.

“Get moving.” The vigilant with the mechanical arm shoved me forward. I almost toppled head first into the hole.

“I’m going!” I said. “Allow me to take my last breath of fresh air in peace!”

The vigilant glared at me but said nothing. I took this as permission to breathe, so I stole a deep gulp of air and took my damn sweet time exhaling. When the guard looked like he was about to push me into the hole, I cast him a bright smile and lowered myself down.

I was experienced with climbing, but descending the slick, narrow ladder into the prison was no easy task, even with my fingerless gloves. Partway down the ladder, my right foot slipped and I almost toppled off. Gasping, I curled my fingers around the metal rung as I dangled in the air, nothing between my feet and the invisible ground but an expanse of darkness. My free hand flew up, and I scraped my knuckles against the brick wall as I hooked my arm under the iron bar. The rusted metal creaked and groaned. I kicked inward to secure my footing again. For a few heart-pounding moments, I stood there, gasping, making sure I had regained my balance.

Axira’s words flashed through my head once more.
The Abyss takes all in time.

Well, either the Abyss or gravity. Neither option seemed pleasant.

I continued my descent as quickly as possible. Minutes later, my boots struck solid ground and I turned to scan my new home.

The light of the dim torches danced over the slimy black walls, casting shadows on the prisoners crumpled in the cells to my right. They were pitiful, emaciated creatures who probably looked human at one time or another. Malnourishment and lack of sunlight had long taken that privilege away from them. Now, they resembled skeletons with skin and sunken eyes.

The shadows stirred and a moment later, I jumped as something scuttled over my boot. A volp with ash-grey fur, as long as my forearm and almost as big around, growled at me through yellowed teeth. Amazingly, the vermin looked better fed than the prisoners.

“At least we have friends,” I muttered to myself.

Feet clapped against the damp stone beside me and a tiny gasp fell from Sylvia’s lips as she spotted our fellow inmates. She cupped her hands over her mouth, and her wide eyes ringed with water.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Don’t worry Sylvia. Those are just the worst prisoners. It’ll be much better for us. We’re just thieves. We’re just. . . .”

I was going to say kids, but age didn’t matter to them. A kid from the slum was just as low as an adult. Just as doomed.

I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “Take it easy. Take deep breaths.”

“I can’t take deep breaths,” she whispered from behind her hands. “It stinks in here.”

I gave a halfhearted laugh. “Yep. Guess we’ll have to get used to that, huh?”

Sylvia gave me a small smile. Her breathing calmed.

When Parker, Sid and the vigilants joined us on the ground, our escorts led us deep into the prison, past the starved prisoners and to the empty cells. I tried to memorize every turn we took, every stairwell we descended, but this prison had been built to swallow up its victims. The further in we walked, the more my chest constricted, but I kept my face relaxed for Sylvia. If
I
started panicking, she would likely have a heart attack.

Some ten turns and five narrow staircases later, we stopped outside an empty cell.

The vigilants didn’t speak as they unlocked the door and shoved us inside. I let out a grunt of annoyance at the unnecessary force. As they relocked the door I leaned against the bars, “So, when do we get our fancy welcome dinner?”

Again, they didn’t answer, but the one with the mechanical arm scowled at me as he walked away, as if to say,
“Have a nice life. Or not.”

“Not very talkative are they?” Parker asked.

“Nope,” I said. Once again, my gaze went at Sylvia. I worried she might start crying. “Get some sleep Sylvie. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

She nodded once but didn’t move. Normally, Sylvia was pretty tough, but standing in the middle of the dank cell she looked like one of those fragile, rich girls, the waifs who seemed like they would fall over at the slightest breeze. I couldn’t stand seeing her sway like that, biting her lip to keep from bursting into tears.

“We’ll make it out of this,” I said. “Promise. We’ve escaped worse.” False, but I liked to pretend it was true. “Now, sleep. Everyone.”

My team cast each other understandably doubtful looks, but they obeyed.

Because I was the team leader. The one who watches out for everyone.

And I had landed them in the worst prison in all of Fortuna.

I didn’t sleep well that night. It wasn’t the rocky floor or the stench. I was used to sleeping on uncomfortable surfaces, whether on the wood floor of the tiny apartment my mother and I shared or the stone of the clock tower where my team so often convened. As for the smell, I got used to it after a few hours. It was the guilt rolling in my gut that kept me tossing and turning through most of the night. The worst part was, when I woke, our new, hellish home hadn’t disappeared.