"That works, I guess," I mutter.
He's already moving to his own chains. His human hand twists and closes around the right anchor, muscles jumping beneath his scarred skin. Another crack, another shower of stone dust, and that chain rips free. He tears off the chains securing his metal arm next like they’re made of paper.
He rises to his feet, bracing himself against the wall with his human hand, panting as he straightens to his full impossible height. The chains are still dangling from his wrists, though he’s so huge they’re not dragging on the ground, but he's no longer pinned to the wall.
Neither of us are.
I test my legs, fighting the lingering effects of the sedative that makes everything feel like I'm moving through water. Knightsways on his feet, barely managing to stay upright. His scarred eyes have that glassy, unfocused quality again.
Whatever burst of strength he just displayed cost him. Badly.
"Can you walk?" I ask him.
He takes one lurching step forward and nearly collapses. He catches himself on the wall again, this time with his metal claws in a shower of sparks.
Fuck.
"Alright." I move to his side slowly, telegraphing my movements so I don't startle him. "I'm going to help you walk," I say quietly, ducking carefully under his human arm to take some of his weight. He growls—a reflexive warning—but I keep my touch steady, supportive rather than restraining. "I'm sorry. But we have to move together if we're going to reach her."
He doesn’t respond.
I’ll take that as a yes.
We stagger toward the cell door. It's solid iron, but the lock mechanism is simple enough. If Plague had thrown us in one of the more advanced dungeons, we wouldn’t be doing this right now, but the petty bastard went full medieval on our asses. The real security is the hordes of guards, but we have to take this one step at a fucking time.
I partially unwind the cilice beneath the bandages on my right hand and extend one of the barbs. The bones were too small and delicate to unlock my shackles, but the lock on the door is smaller. The bone slips into the lock on the other side and scrapes against the mechanism.
And then it snaps.
Fuck. I try another, being a bit more careful this time, and jiggle it until the lock clicks open and?—
Footsteps. Boots scuffing stone, still a ways off but getting closer. The voices of two men drift down the corridor. Guards.
"—don't know why they bothered chaining it up." One of the guards, his voice echoing off the walls. "Should have just put a bolt through its skull and been done with it."
"His Majesty's orders." The other guard gives a dry laugh. "Said to be 'gentle' with it. A joke, if you ask me. Did you see its face? Fucking thing looks like a demon."
A snort of laughter. "Asi pissed himself when they brought it through. Swears it tried to bite him."
"Probably did. Thing's not right in the head. You can see it in the eyes—nothing there. Just empty."
I glance at Knight.
He's still hunched against the wall, that white curtain of hair hiding his ruined face. His breathing hasn't changed. No indication he heard them or cares if he did.
Maybe he's used to it.
More laughter, closer now.
"Try not to die," I mutter to Knight, shifting to let him lean against the wall as I position myself. The chains attached to my shackles aren't ideal weapons, but they're better than nothing. "Cosima would be upset."
Thatgets his attention.
Knight's response is a low rumbling growl that vibrates through his chest. It's the first sound he's made that resembles the feral alpha from the medical wing.
Good enough.
The door bursts open.
