I sat on the cold floor and thought about what to do next. Shish, settled nearby, owed quietly in the dark.
Opposite , leaning against the wall, sat a man. In the gloom of the cell, I could only make out his silhouette, gray hair, and dark eyes. He looked to be about sixty years old.
He coughed dryly and broke the silence: "What kind of animal is that with you?"
"It's a cat," I answered briefly.
The man leaned forward slightly. "Even though I can't see your face properly because of the dark, but by your voice... how old are you? Eighteen?"
"Sixteen."
"And where are you from?" the old man inquired.
"What's it to you?" I snapped. After a mont of silence, I still added: "Aren't you cold? You seem to be sitting without outerwear."
The old man chuckled. "Ha, asking if I'm doing alright? Seems you have excellent parents, kid. Listen here. We have a long night ahead. Most likely, tomorrow they will take you out for this 'court' of theirs, and then send you, like a slave, to so deadly work. So we'd better talk."
I remained silent, realizing he was right. He continued, but now in a barely audible whisper so the words wouldn't fly beyond our cell: "You're from Mount Slick, aren't you? I can feel in my gut that you're a mage. What level? What can you do?"
Instead of answering, I extended my palm. A small fla flared up at my fingertips, illuminating our faces. The man reacted with lightning speed: he struck my hand with his palm, instantly extinguishing the fla.
"Are you a fool?!" he hissed angrily. "You probably don't know, but in these parts they really don't like mages. Can you open these doors?" he nodded at the bars of our cage.
"Yes, I can. But why should I?"
"You are definitely a fool. We'll escape, of course!" the old man lowered his voice even more. "I was planning to anyway, but couldn't solve one problem—how to open the lock. But with you, we'll succeed. I already have a plan ready."
He moved closer and began to explain quickly: "In the third cell from the entrance sits a guy, he knows this city like the back of his hand. Also, we need to get the girl out of the last cell and the man from the second to last."
A reasonable question imdiately arose in my head. "Why should I run with you? You are criminals."
"Sa as you," he countered.
"I'm here by mistake!"
"So are we," the old man scoffed. "Listen, kid. If the thought is spinning in your head: 'Why do I need them if I can manage on my own?', then I'll answer. You don't even know how to hide or where to go. You'll be found on the very first day! You'll beco an enemy to all of Growtar. But I know how to shake a tail and make sure we're not chased."
"And how?" I asked doubtfully. He smirked again and held out his hand to .
"Let's escape together, and then I'll help you out."
I looked at his extended palm. I didn't have many options. I shook it.
Getting up from the floor, I walked over to the bars and began to think about how best to break the hinge or pick the chanism.
"Just keep it quiet," the old man warned behind my back. "There's an informant sitting in the first cell. If he notices magic or hears a noise, he'll raise a cry imdiately."
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I didn't yet possess tal magic very confidently. The lock was complexly designed. If I knew its structure thoroughly, it would be easier—I would just turn the chanism from the inside, like a key. I couldn't use fire magic: too much noise and light. Sigh, if Naya were here, she would just blow everything apart... But it was worth a try. Did I waste so much ti studying tal magic for nothing?
"Kid, what are you doing?" my new ally asked.
"Trying to turn the lock with tal magic. For now, I'm just probing it, trying to understand how it's built inside."
The man thoughtfully scratched the back of his head. Then he walked over to the wall separating our cell from the neighboring one and gave a short, rhythmic knock on the stone. "Shren," he called quietly into a crack. "Shren. Shren!"
So rustling was heard from the other side, and a man approached the wall. "Kaus, what do you want?" a hoarse voice sounded.
"Tell , brother, what do we need to press there to make this lock open?"
"How are you going to open it, Kaus?" Shren's voice ca from behind the wall.
"Don't drag it out."
"Alright, but I don't understand. Even I, an experienced lockpicker, wouldn't ss with this lock. It's a lever tumbler chanism; it has false notches. If you lift the plate a little higher than necessary, it will jam tight. You won't even open it with its native key! And when the guards co in the morning and notice this, they'll simply beat us to death for an escape attempt. Better not to touch the lock."
At that mont, I tried to move the chanism. A faint but distinct click was heard. The notch jamd. I had made a mistake. Cold sweat rolled down my face.
Shren on the other side pressed his hands to his head in despair: "Oh gods... Tomorrow they will simply destroy us."
Kaus breathed nervously, leaning heavily against the wall. I was feverishly analyzing the situation: Damn it, the notches blocked the most important elent. If they are not moved, I won't open anything.
The man straightened up to his full height. "Can you open the lock noisily?"
"Yes," I answered, "but then..."
He didn't let
finish: "Know water magic?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then quickly burn out the lock with fire magic, and then we imdiately dash to the first cell. There you just fill the informant's mouth with water so he doesn't have ti to yell."
We froze, listening. It was quiet in the corridor—it seems the guards were still asleep.
I was just getting ready to heat up the entire massive lock casing when Shren hurriedly whispered: "Wait, wait! Can you heat up only one specific elent?"
"Probably, yes."
"No need to lt everything," Shren started speaking quickly. "See the upper right corner? Go down about seven centiters and the sa distance from the edge of the wall. That's where the main lever spring is. It's enough to just burn it. It's made of a weak alloy anyway; it will lt easily. That way there will be much less light and noise."
I placed my finger against the tal. "Here?"
"No, a little lower. Yes, right there, kid. Go ahead."
My finger was a centiter away from the needed spot. I began to concentrate the heat. Keeping extre heat in one tiny point turned out to be incredibly difficult; the only saving grace was that this alloy conducted heat poorly across the entire surface of the door. A minute of tense silence passed.
Click.
The sound of snapping tal was heard—the spring had popped out of its place. I instantly caught the deadbolts with tal magic, turned them back, and the heavy door opened with a creak.
Kaus imdiately slipped out into the corridor and gave
an approving pat on the shoulder. I rushed after him.
We found ourselves at the first cell. The guy sitting there jumped up and already took a breath, preparing to scream frantically. I thrust my hand forward. A dense stream of water hit him right in the face, filling his mouth and throat. The informant wheezed, starting to choke; his eyes widened in terror. I abruptly stopped the stream.
Kaus glared at
angrily: "What are you doing, kid?! Kill him! Just don't tell
you've never killed anyone yet!"
Instead of answering, I used ice magic. The moisture on the man's body and face instantly froze, binding his jaws and limbs so tightly that he couldn't move or utter a single sound.
I rushed after Kaus. We ran to the last cell in the row. Unlike ours, it was completely enclosed by solid stone walls, not bars.
I perford the exact sa operation with the lock, struggling to burn out the spring. "I don't have any strength left for this," I exhaled heavily as the heavy door opened.
A woman erged from the gloom of the cell. A shock of red hair, piercing green eyes, and an imposing height—no less than one ter eighty. She stepped into the corridor and cracked her neck loudly.
"Took you long enough, Kaus," she pronounced in a low, calm voice. Then she shifted her cold gaze to .
"Listen here, kid. Now we go upstairs and take down everyone we see. The main thing is to do it quietly, so they don't have ti to signal the others."
I looked at this company and just ntally asked myself the sa question over and over again: What have I even gotten myself into?
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