Page 5 of The Silver Spider
“I think I know where they are,” she said. “Stop talking.”
Because the kitchen staff was in full force due to that evening's feast, she had to be tricky about getting them into the pantry, big enough to qualify as the living room in her home.
“You sure about this, Serephone?” Hatcher asked.
She strode towards the trap door in the corner. “Probably not the only way in. Taking prisoners through the food supply? Gross.”
She crouched down and held a hand over the thick padlock. Green heat flooded her skin, a sickly light seeping from her pores and swirling down and around the padlock. The lock popped, and she glanced over her shoulder. Constable’s eyes were wide, and slightly wild.
“I didn’t know you were a sorceress,” he said, voice strangled.
“I’m not.”
She took the first step down the dark hole, adjusting her eyes to pick out the first rung. “Coming?”
He sighed as she climbed down, his weight rattling the rickety ladder as he joined her. “This is a piss-poor way into a dungeon.”
“Like I said—probably not the main entrance. More like an escape hatch.”
Which made sense, cause who wanted to have only one way in and out of a place like this? Her foot touched ground and she moved out of the way.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” he said, swearing.
Light ringed her hands, a dim glow that gave off enough phosphorescence for even a human to see. Sere obviously wasn’t entirely human, so she didn’t quite have to worry about it.
They walked forward, feeling along one side of the narrow tunnel. It was the rough, unhewn rock of the mountain. As if the dragons had simply cut a dungeon out of the base of the mountain. She supposed they liked dark, enclosed spaces. She hated them.
The tunnel opened into a round chamber with weak gas lamps attached periodically to the stone walls. Around the chamber were crude, iron doors.
“Stinks,” she said. And raised her arm to her nose to suppress a gag. But she guessed Maddugh wasn’t concerned with providing bathing facilities for his guests. Why did dungeons always have to be underground? Why not giant bird cages hanging from trees? Or towers. Something besides an airless, claustrophobic, dank basement. Each door had a slit wide enough for a skin of water or a plate to slide through. She supposed if Maddugh bothered to supply slop buckets—it didn’t smell like it—that guards had to unlock the doors to change them.
She was shocked. Sere knew dragons weren’t human, but the coldness of the way his prisoners were treated…they weren’t being tortured, at least. She saw no evidence of the kinds of tools needed for that, or stones. But being tied to a tree out in the open forest would be more humane that this.
“This isn’t legal,” Hatcher said as they checked the slits in all the doors. There were six prisoners. “These men should be turned over to human—”
“You know better than that.” But she’d talk to her mother. This would have to change. And not necessarily because Sere cared—but because a ruler should be above reproach as well as strong. And if the humans ever found out the condition he kept his prisoners in, it could cause more trouble later.
“Who’s there?” a rusty male voice shouted, then paused, hacking.
She walked towards the door, where she’d heard the voice and paused, waiting until the coughing died down. “Serephone, Kailigh’s daughter. Are you from town?” It would save wasting time on introductions.
“I know who you are.”
She heard the shuffle of cloth and the slither of a body against the door. “Then maybe you can guess why I’m here. Are you one of Ruthus’ hires?”
A bitter laugh. “What will you give me in trade for the information you want?”
“I can’t free you—but I may be able to do something about your accommodations.”
“No deal.”
He moved away. Serephone sighed and lifted her hand, so her flat palm aligned with the slit in the door. Spiders slithered out of her sleeve, after a moment she heard a sharp exclamation, then a man's muffled scream.
“I can recall them,” Sere said. “Would that be repayment enough for the information I seek?”
“What’s going on out there?” someone shouted.
“Be quiet,” Hatcher said, striding to the source and rapping on the door. “Sere, you can’t be letting him caterwaul like that.”
