Perdition (Dred Chronicles 1)

To his surprise, Tam looked visibly worried. “She cut us loose too fast with no further demands, no references to her desire to get her hands on you.” He jerked his head at Jael.

Yeah, something’s off.

Dred increased her pace until she was nearly running. “We need to get back ASAP.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Tam agreed.

Though he wasn’t sure what they were worried about, Jael caught the mood. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to attack on her home ground? There were only three of us against her collective might.”

Tam nodded. “Easier, yes. But remember, she has a sense of rightness and ritual.”

Dammit.

“And she’s devious,” Dred added grimly.

She glanced over her shoulder as she ran. Jael didn’t think whatever Silence had planned would hit before they got back. Maybe he was giving Silence too much credit, but after the way she’d planned and executed the assault on Abaddon, then the decimation of Grigor’s forces, he could almost believe she served Death itself with ruthless efficiency and raw cunning. He didn’t know what experience Dred had in planning actual campaigns; from what he’d seen, she took a lot of advice from Tam, but the man wasn’t infallible, and he couldn’t see in all directions. He’d proven that—at great cost. Jael listened for the distant whisper of careful feet, scented for a stray smell that reeked of death, but nothing drew his notice.

“They’re not following,” he said.

That didn’t mean he thought they should slow down. Instead, Dred quickened the pace further; she didn’t stop until they sprinted past the first checkpoint into Queensland. The four sentries on duty gaped when they blew past, but nobody wasted time on explanations.

A guard called after them, “Trouble incoming?”

“Maybe,” she yelled back. “Stay sharp, keep the turrets hot.”

“Already done.”

In the hall, Jael skimmed the scene with a measuring eye. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The men who weren’t patrolling, as usual, were playing cards, drinking, gambling, or talking shit. At the far end, two men exchanged a flurry of blows, but since nobody was bleeding, it couldn’t be a serious altercation. Probably just sparring to keep in shape. Dred’s territory was big enough now that a man could actually go for a run for exercise if he wanted.

Provided she can hold the new ground.

And that was the question that had everyone on edge. Things weren’t nearly settled yet. Patrols hadn’t been established in a routine fashion, and defenses hadn’t dug in. If I intended to attack, it would be now, while we’re settling in. Beside him, Dred vibrated with tension. Part of him wanted to take her hand, but the rest of him scorned the gesture. She would give him that icy look if he tried—and for good reason. The Dread Queen required comfort from no man.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Tam finally said.

“Find Ike and Wills,” she answered, ignoring the comment.

Tam nodded and jogged off. The two men were likely to be together, working on some invention. Wills had been especially feverish since they got a share of Grigor’s gear, which was more generous than Silence had to be, and he insisted on Ike’s participation. The old man pretended to loathe the extra work, but Jael could tell he liked being appreciated.

We all want to be more than we seem.

Just as he was starting to relax, Tam returned with Ike; and the old man had a huge knot on the back of his head, slowly seeping blood. A cold chill washed through him as he hurried toward them with Dred close behind.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“I was working when somebody jumped me. Lucky I didn’t end up with a knife in my ribs, I guess.”

“They got Wills?” Tam asked.

Ike lifted a shoulder, his face pained. “I haven’t seen him since I woke up.”

Dred curled her hand into a fist. “How long ago was that?”

“Not sure,” the old man said helplessly.

Tam wanted to know, “Were there any signs of a struggle? Blood trail to follow?”

Ike shook his head as if to clear it. “Come with me and we’ll check. I wasn’t thinking straight when Tam found me.”

It wasn’t like the spymaster to overlook such a critical detail. Then he answered, “I didn’t see one. If they took Wills unharmed, then there’s no injury to follow. The man’s a genius but not much of a fighter.”

Jael silently agreed. When they had made the run to the salvage bay together, anytime there looked to be direct combat, Wills had run and hid. He couldn’t imagine the man fighting a party of armed men even on his home ground. He’d predict a swift surrender, followed by as much crazy talk as the man could generate, likely in hope of being judged worthless and incompetent and discarded by a gullible enemy.

“We don’t have much time,” she said. “Split up. Check the ducts, the side corridors, all checkpoints. Tam, if that’s too much ground to cover, recruit some help.”

The spymaster nodded.

“They’re not in the main hallway. I would’ve heard them.” Jael didn’t explain to the others, but Dred nodded.

“Get moving, people!”

Jael headed for the east corridor and he jogged all the way down to the checkpoint. Everything seemed quiet; the men were at their posts, unharmed, and they looked as alert as Queenslanders on duty ever did. One of them frowned at him.

“Did she send you to check up on us?”

He ignored the question. “Have you seen or heard anything unusual today?”

The man shook his head. “Not so far. Why? Is there something I should know?”

“Just be wary.”

“I always am.” That was pure cockiness, but Jael didn’t have the time to chew the guard out properly.

Instead, he backtracked, checking other corridors, other guard posts. Everything was quiet until he heard a shout from Dred. Jael doubted anyone else could’ve heard it, but he pinpointed her location and ran, his heart pounding in his throat. Before he realized he’d done it, he had two blades in hand, sharp and lovely ones that he’d pried out of Grigor’s dead hands.

That’s surely a good omen.

When he found her, Dred was facing down a hunting party on her own; there had to be a hundred men here. Somehow, they’d gotten past all the checkpoints without alerting the guards or setting off any turrets. At that moment, Silence’s mute slayers were poised to attack—and Wills stood at the head of the column. The man wasn’t injured that Jael could see, nor did the enemy beside him hold a weapon to his throat. Unease itched at the back of his head.