A man in the corner pulled Tate’s attention from their conversation. He sat so his face was in shadow and wore a set of clothes that looked to be in better condition than the other prisoners. Most interesting was the fact he wore a poncho made of a warm looking fabric that protected him from the cold.
Tate’s guard rose, conscious of the way the poncho hid his arms and hands. Like this, it was impossible to tell whether he was armed. Not that any of the prisoners should have weapons, but Tate knew very well how these places worked. Contraband had a way of sneaking in.
It would make her a lot less nervous if he placed those hands where she could see them. Better yet if he could step into the light so she could see his face.
While she was concentrating on the stranger, Ryu stared at the door they’d entered through. His frown grew more pronounced, and his posture tensed.
“What’s wrong?” Dewdrop asked.
“I’m not sure. Something feels off.”
Dewdrop’s eyes darted around the room. Tate’s preoccupation with the stranger faded as she tried to sense what had Ryu on edge.
Tate started to turn when Christopher suddenly moved. His hand reached for her.
Ryu yanked Tate back, his harsh grip digging into her arms. She leaned against a hard chest that rumbled with a low, gravelly growl. Out of the corner of her eye, Tate saw Dewdrop standing at attention next to her, his lips pursed in preparation to release his scream.
Christopher held up a finger to his lips, his eyes smiling at Tate. “Are you really sure it’s me you should be concentrating on?”
He pointed behind the trio.
The prisoner Ryu had called a traitor cursed. “This is not good.”
Tate craned her head to see. Seconds passed as she struggled to see what had so alarmed the prisoner.
A pair of sentinels blended with the stone, their features gradually growing clearer and more defined as they pushed through the wall. First their faces appeared, followed by their torso and weapons. Legs and arms appeared next, each second adding more detail to the statues.
If they’d been menacing before Tate had entered the prison, they were downright terrifying now.
“Please tell me that’s normal,” Tate said.
Ryu’s grip tightened as he hauled her to her feet. “It’s not.”
“I told you. Worst case scenario—every time.” Dewdrop pointed at Tate.
“I touched nothing. You can’t blame me for this.”
“Still your fault,” Dewdrop argued, not letting go. “I don’t know how but it is.”
Tyne’s gaze moved back and forth between Tate and Dewdrop. “You two have a fascinating dynamic.”
Tate pointed to the opposite side of the room. “You’re too close. Go over there.”
Tyne ignored her and looked in Ryu’s direction. “I want my sentence forgiven.”
Ryu’s jaw flexed. “Fine. Help us and I’ll escort you out of this place myself.”
Dewdrop sputtered. “We’re going to trust a traitor to help us?”
Tyne grinned. “He doesn’t have a choice. You lot probably won’t survive without me.”
Dewdrop scoffed. “You think pretty highly of yourself.”
“Tyne is right.” Ryu’s eyes had taken on the glow of the dragon. “These aren’t enemies we can take on ourselves.”
Rath, already in his physical manifestation, crawled onto Ryu’s shoulder where he perched.
“That’s new,” Tyne said with a low whistle. There was fascination and greed in his gaze, as if he’d seen a new toy he’d very much like to own, whether the current owner wanted to give it to him or not.
