Alex Bledsoe - Burn Me Deadly

I returned to Liz, who was now sobbing. Blood ran freely down her leg, but the cut wasn’t deep, just hugely painful. I grabbed a chair and pulled it under her feet so that she could stand and take the weight off her arms. She whimpered and whined as her long-tormented muscles refused to work properly. I stood on the chair as well and tried to undo the manacles, but they were the kind that locked with a key. I turned toward Candora, and to my surprise he was on his feet, dangling a key ring from his good hand. “Looking for these?” he taunted. Then he ran out the door.

I was no more than three steps behind him, but it was enough. He simply stepped aside once he was through the door and easily tripped me as I chased after him. I skidded painfully on the rocky ground. By the time I recovered he’d gone back inside. I did the same, knowing what I’d find. I was right.

Candora stood beside Liz, his knife held in his uninjured hand, the tip just under the crease of her left breast. He’d kicked the chair aside so she again hung by her wrists, and the cuts from her manacles had opened anew. The knife’s point had already broken the skin, and fresh blood trickled down her stomach. From that angle it would take no strength to kill her; the knife would easily pass between her ribs and reach her heart. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, and she was too weak to struggle anymore. It enraged me to see him touching her that way, but I said nothing. Keeping things off my face was one of the first fighting skills I’d learned.

“It’s amazing what a small little world this is,” Candora said. “Last I saw, you were at the bottom of a cliff. Now here you are, and you seem attached to this young lady.” He turned the knife in his fingers, which dug the tip into the wound. Liz writhed and cried out; the sound cut me the same way his knife did her. “Well, she’s not so young. And I have no idea if she’s a lady. But I do know you’re fond of her.” His mocking tone vanished. “And you broke my goddam thumb. And maybe my kneecap. So drop your sword, now.”

I unbuckled the scabbard. It hit the wooden floor with a loud clank.

Again he twirled the knife, not really driving it deeper but just gouging the wound. Liz was drenched with fresh sweat, and sobbed into the gag. I licked my dry lips. I said, “I know where the eggs are. Let her go and I’ll tell you.”

He laughed. “Hell, old man, I know where they are. Where do you think I found these two? Passed out down in that hole, nearly dead from the fumes. If I hadn’t seen their horses they’d still be there. You should thank me for rescuing them.”

I nodded at Marion. “Interesting definition of ‘rescue.’ ”

“Eh, he had it coming. We got him out of jail and paid him a nice pile to suck up to that Argoset clown. And then what does he do? Tried to convince me to turn the eggs over to the king. Can you believe it? He went in a spy and came out as a patriot.”

“So you dissected him just for that?”

“No, I dissected him for the sake of your girlfriend here. Someone has to go back in there and get those eggs. I’m not dumb enough to do it, or to set this muscle-monkey loose to do it. But I figured if I got her scared enough, she’d march in there without a second thought if it meant she’d avoid my hobby table.”

Liz’s eyes were fixed on me. I felt her pain, fear and humiliation; I did not acknowledge it. “Idiot, there are no eggs,” I snapped impatiently. “Dragons don’t exist. This is all just Tempcott’s bullshit.”

“Doesn’t matter, old man,” he said blithely. “It all boils down to this. That night she got away from me, that girl Laura hid something in that cave. I want it. And you”-he pointed at me with the knife, now soaked in Liz’s blood; a trickle dripped to the floor-“are going to go get it for me. Or else I’ll see what your lady friend’s lungs look like.”

I smiled. “You really think I’ll leave you alone with her again?”

“I know you will.” He touched the knife to her belly and traced a diagonal line across it in her own blood. “If I cut her this way, her guts will hit the floor before you can even shout. If I cut her here

…”-he traced a similar line along the inside crease of her right thigh-“… she’ll bleed to death in three minutes. I can do either, or both, before you can possibly get your hands on me.” He held up his wounded right hand, the thumb already swollen and purplish. “Lucky for you I’m ambidextrous, isn’t it?”

He had me; until I could get between him and Liz, I could chance nothing. And I doubted he’d make the mistake of letting me get there. Still, his delight in his own cruel prowess might be a weakness. “Why not let her go fetch the eggs, then, and keep me as the hostage? Don’t you want to work on me like you did Marion? Finish what you started that night at the cliff?”

“Please,” he snorted. “For one thing, the fact that I found her passed out and had to drag her ass back here says she wasn’t up to it then, and hanging around with me all day”-he slapped her bare behind with mocking familiarity-“hasn’t exactly toughened her up. No, since you were kind enough to drop by, I think we’ll send the real tough guy to do it.”

I nodded at the table. “He was a tough guy, too.”

“He was just a big guy. I had him crying like a baby within ten minutes. I have the feeling you’re a lot hardier than that. Call it a hunch.” This time he violently pinched her nearest nipple, and she moaned in pain. “With your trail whore hanging around with me while you’re gone, you’ll certainly be better motivated.”

I saw from his eyes that appealing to his vanity wouldn’t work. What else might get to him? “All right. Say I go in there and actually find whatever it is that’s hidden there. You know it’s not really dragon eggs, don’t you?”

“Of course I know that. Do you think I’m some gullible stable boy? But something’s down there, and until I know what it really is, I don’t know what it’s worth.”

“What if I find nothing? What if Laura Lesperitt just conned us all? Are you still going to let her go?”

“I never said I’d let her go.”

“Then you better say it now.”

He mockingly thought it over, bobbing his head like a flighty girl. “Maybe.”

Play it carefully, LaCrosse, I told myself. “You know, things like ‘maybe’ don’t motivate me. I work better with promises.”

“Oh, well then, sure. I’ll let her go. You bring me back those eggs or whatever they are, and I’ll turn her loose. Maybe minus a few souvenirs, but not dead.”

Again I saw the utter coldness in his eyes, and the relish he had for his job. Still, he wouldn’t kill her until I returned, because without her he had no leverage over me. A lot could happen to her, though, that didn’t qualify as “killing.” And as for me, I definitely didn’t want to end up taking Marion’s place on that table. I decided to push him a little harder. “No. You don’t touch her again until I get back. Do we have a deal?”

“You’ve got nothing to deal with.”

“Suppose you’re wrong about my attachment to her? Maybe I know her, but I’m still willing to walk away from her if there’s a big enough profit in it. What’s to keep me from taking whatever is in that cave and simply selling it directly to Marantz? And in the process letting him know what a screwup you are?”

Ah-ha. I’d found something that rattled him, if only a little. The idea that he’d misread me bothered him. “If that’s true, why do you care if I carve her up?”

“Maybe she’s just a good lay, and I’d hate to see it spoiled. But whatever my reason, I’m making that part of the bargain. You don’t touch her again until I come back. Deal?”