Tim Waggoner - Lady Ruin

As a pair of soldiers grabbed her arms, the thought-voice whispered in her mind once more.

You’re going to regret not running when you had the chance .

And as the soldiers began to march her down the street, while the rest of the Outguard fell into line, Lirra wondered if the symbiont would be proven right.

You know, my mother always said that curiosity would be the death of me.”

Lirra sat on the wooden bunk, the only furniture in the small cell, eyes closed, arms folded over her chest, listening to Ranja complain as she paced around the room like a restless caged animal.

“And she said if that didn’t do it, greed would probably finish me off. I should’ve quit while I was ahead. If I had, I’d have a pocket full of new silver, which I’d no doubt be spending on good food, good wine, and questionable men. Instead, what am I doing? I’m stuck inside a garrison cell with you! I never did get all the muck the creature released when it died off my boots, and it’s starting to stink something fierce. Even you must be able to smell it! The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is buy myself a new pair of boots and burn the old ones.”

Lirra could smell the stench, and it was rank indeed. But she’d endured worse smells on the battlefield in her time. She spoke without opening her eyes.

“You could’ve fled when Ksana killed the creature. None of my father’s soldiers would’ve been able to catch you. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed, given how focused they were on capturing me. But you didn’t flee. You stuck around and allowed yourself to be brought to the garrison. Why?”

Ranja stopped pacing and sat on the bunk next to Lirra.

“I plead temporary insanity.”

Lirra smiled, though she still didn’t open her eyes. “I see two other possibilities: One, you still think there’s a way to turn this situation to your advantage-and increase your profit in the process. After all, given the skills you’ve acquired in your profession, you can probably escape whenever you want to.” Lirra didn’t want to refer directly to Ranja being a freelance spy, for the two warforged were standing guard just outside the cell door.

Ranja didn’t deny Lirra’s words. Instead, she asked, “What’s the second possibility?”

“That you’re not quite as much of a cold-hearted silver-hungry mercenary as you pretend to be, and you didn’t want to abandon a new friend.”

Ranja laughed, though it sounded a trifle forced to Lirra. “Shows what you know! Now I have no doubt that bonding with a symbiont has affected your mind.”

The tentacle whip had been mostly still since they reached the garrison, but it moved slightly against her forearm, as if irritated by Ranja’s words. Lirra ignored it.

“You must be getting used to my carrying a symbiont,” Lirra said. “You no longer keep your distance like you did when we met.”

“I suppose I am getting used to it … a little. Besides, the scent of the thing is mild compared to the stench of the white-eye muck.” Ranja paused before going on. “I’ve seen you in action a couple times now, Lirra. I know you can control your symbiont, at least as much as anyone can. I may not trust the damned thing that’s attached itself to your body, but I trust you.”

More fool, you , the thought-voice said.

Lirra opened her eyes and turned to face the shifter. “Thank you.”

Ranja looked uncomfortable, but she nodded. Then she turned to stare at the backs of the two warforged.

“So what happens next?” she asked.

“Father will send for you soon. He’ll interview you to find out who you are and what you were doing with me. Just tell him the truth-that I hired you to help me track down Elidyr. And only tell him the truth.”

Lirra gave Ranja a meaningful look that she hoped said, For the Host’s sake, don’t tell him you’re a spy for Raskogr. The situation was complex enough without introducing another element to destabilize it. She had hired Ranja to track Elidyr. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

“When you say your father is going to interview me …” Ranja trailed off.

“Don’t worry. He’s a member of the Order of Rekkenmark. The Academy teaches us to adhere to a strict code of honor. We don’t use coercion tactics on prisoners.” She paused. “Except in the most extreme circumstances, of course. And this isn’t one of them.”

Ranja sighed. “How reassuring.”

Sure enough, just as Lirra had predicted, a pair of soldiers arrived to take Ranja away for questioning. As she left with them, she turned to give Lirra a parting wink, as if to say everything was going to be all right. With Ranja gone, Lirra was tempted to lie back on the bunk, uncomfortable though it was, and try to get some sleep. She’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, and while her symbiont granted her greater endurance, her supply of energy wasn’t inexhaustible, and she was bone weary. But given the situation, she knew that she couldn’t afford to waste time resting. Better to use it to gather some intelligence.

She rose from her bunk, walked over to the cell door, and leaned on the iron bars.

“So you’re the two newest members of the Outguard. What are your stories?” Lirra had a good idea how the constructs had come to be under her father’s command, but she wanted to get them talking to see what, if anything, she could learn from them.

“We’re not supposed to talk to prisoners,” the lean one said. Lirra had heard some of the human soldiers call him Longstrider, and given his legs, she could understand how he’d come to be called that. He didn’t turn around to face her as he spoke.

“Though admittedly, you’re not just any prisoner,” the squat one, Shatterfist, said. He too didn’t turn to face her. “We know you’re General Vaddon’s daughter, and that you used to be second in command of the Outguard.”

“Technically, I still am second in command. That is, unless my father has gotten around to putting in the official paperwork to have me removed from the position.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to try to convince us to let you go because you still have your rank,” Longstrider said. Though warforged didn’t breathe and therefore couldn’t sigh, somehow the construct managed to give that impression with his tone. “Just because we’re not made of flesh doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”

“Why would I think that?” Lirra asked. “I fought alongside many of your kind during the war, and on average, they seemed just as intelligent-if not more so-than flesh-and-blood soldiers.” And they were a damn sight tougher too. Which was no doubt the main reason Vaddon had assigned them to guard her cell. Their stone and metal hides made them impervious to the tentacle whip’s poison, and she couldn’t use her symbiont coils to cut off their air supply and render them unconscious, for they had no need to breathe.

“Now you’re attempting to flatter us in order to gain our trust,” Shatterfist said.

“Not at all,” Lirra said. “Besides, you’re warforged. Flattery means nothing to you. That’s a failing of us meat-and-bone types.”

Shatterfist turned his head slightly so that one of his glowing crimson eyes could focus on her.

“Not necessarily. We are more alike than you might imagine.”

Now Longstrider half turned to look at her. Lirra thought there was something strange about the construct’s eyes. They still had the same glowing coal look common to warforged, but their color was slightly darker, and they were noticeably larger than normal.

“Please forgive my friend,” Longstrider said. “He fancies himself something of an expert on human behavior. Especially humor.”