“No need. The prisoners can’t escape so they’re allowed to roam free,” Ryu explained.
“How do you keep them from killing each other?” Dewdrop asked, looking around him with an uneasy expression.
“We don’t.”
Tate and Dewdrop sent him identical looks of disbelief. Tate didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t this. Survival of the fittest was a brutal method to keep prisoners in check. More importantly, if the occupants were free range, it meant they could attack at any moment. In this small space, it would be difficult to summon their dragons for defense.
Dewdrop’s eyes narrowed on Ryu. “This is revenge, isn’t it? That’s why you didn’t warn us.”
“What would I need revenge for?”
Even Tate didn’t believe Ryu’s overly innocent expression.
Dewdrop pointed at Ryu. “You could have at least told us to bring weapons for defense.”
Ryu’s smile was mild. “The sentinels would have prevented you from passing if you had a weapon.”
Dewdrop’s cheeks puffed out in an adorable expression of anger that belied the damage she knew he could inflict if he put his mind to it. Tate resisted shaking her head at them. Males. They were so weird sometimes. She did not understand this strange bonding method of theirs.
A soft hiss of laughter entered Tate’s mind.
Fun. We should play too.
Not happening. Weirdness was contagious. What if she caught it? There was already enough chaos in her life; she didn’t need more.
Tate kept her focus on her surroundings, noting the position of the prisoners who were keeping their distance. For now.
Tate’s small party drew the attention of everyone present. Not that there were many. A woman talked to herself as she twirled the ends of her hair with her fingers. She stood in an entrance to a hall that branched off this room. There were several branches, Tate realized. The better to ambush people from.
Another man sat on top of a mound of bones like they were a throne and he the king, watching them with hungry eyes. His hair was long. Like the singing man, his clothes were thin but more threadbare. His feet were also bare. They rested on top of a skull, his toes occasionally flexing on it.
A few others were scattered throughout, moving away as Tate advanced toward the singing man.
“These people seem more crazy than criminal,” Dewdrop observed.
“Wouldn’t you be too if you spent years locked away from the sun?” a stranger said from right behind them.
At some point the man had left his throne of bones to shadow them. There’d been no warning and Tate hadn’t registered his presence before he spoke.
Don’t like him.
Tate nodded grimly in agreement. Not many people could sneak up on her and Dewdrop like that.
He looked fascinated as he stared at Tate. “Dragon-ridden. Female no less. How intriguing.”
“Step away, Tyne.” Ryu’s eyes promised pain if the man didn’t listen.
“You seem angry. Aren’t you happy to see an old friend?”
“I don’t consider failed usurpers my friends.”
Tyne lifted a shoulder. “We all make mistakes.”
“Except most times those mistakes don’t cause you to betray the people you swore an oath to. Nor do they result in the death of hundreds.”
“That’s war for you. People die.”
“Charming,” Dewdrop drawled.
