Cole gave her a sharp look. “Not without a plan.”
“Don’t get too close,” Cole said, taking hold of Mistel’s hand.
Warm, steady fingers. Arman help her, that hand had said I love you not so long ago, and now it wanted her to stay safe.
Two guards stood outside the door of the holding cell. Zanna had called the big one with warrior braids Nesson, and the other, all beard and attitude, Boreth.
“I’ll be careful.” Mistel kissed Cole’s knuckles. Then she let go, squared her shoulders, and sauntered out into the corridor, voice rising into song.
“I don’t belong here.
Why do I try so hard to fit?
I have so many feelings in a day.
It’s hard to know what to do or say.”
Nesson lifted his head. “What are you doing in here, poppet?”
“Do you remember me, Master Nesson?” Mistel asked, tilting her head just a bit.
“Should I?”
“The minstrels,” Boreth said, stepping closer. “Sang out in the yard a few weeks back.”
His belt jingled, and Mistel eyed the lovely, shiny keys hanging there. She beamed and stepped closer. “Did you enjoy our performance?”
“Sure, I did.”
“You didn’t say why you’re here, miss,” Nesson said. “And at this hour?”
Before she could spin a long tale, Zanna stormed down the corridor toward them, her expression so fierce, it almost scared Mistel. “You!” she yelled. “I told you not to leave the room.”
Mistel darted behind Boreth and clutched his arm. “She just wants to spoil my fun.”
“What’s this about, Anna?” Boreth asked. His arm, raised between Zanna and Mistel, proved he’d bought Mistel’s act.
“She needs to wait where the warden put her,” Zanna said.
“It’s so boring there.” Mistel circled to Boreth’s other side, keeping him between her and Zanna.
“I need her out of here,” Zanna snapped.
“Why’s she here so late, anyway?” Nesson asked.
“Wait a minute,” Boreth said. “I say we hear her out.”
While they argued, Mistel’s fingers slipped the key ring free from Boreth’s belt. Just a little tug, a shift of weight, and behold, they were in her pocket. She bit back a grin and whistled sharply.
Cole burst from the shadows and punched Nesson in the face. Zanna elbowed Boreth. The guards fought back. In the chaos, Mistel scrambled to the door, pulse hammering as she fumbled through a dozen keys.
Cole’s shoulder slammed into her back, knocking her against the door.
She yelped.
“Sorry,” he shouted, still swinging at Nesson.
Finally, a key turned, the lock clicked, and Mistel shoved the door open. There stood Kurtz, alive and bouncing on his toes. Crispen sat slumped against the wall.
