Their faces lit up, and they let out a cheer before they stampeded after Ramaro. The agama had his work cut out for him as they dove and jumped at him.
Marc slipped out the door and down the shaded corridor, being careful to keep behind the columns when anyone faced him. Ramaro kept them occupied at the far end near the gatehouse, and so he reached the opposite door without being spotted. Marc ducked inside and down the stairs and found the jailer at his desk.
The jailer didn’t look up at his coming. “You guys just don’t know when it’s too late to be bringing people in-” Marc swept around the desk and grabbed the man by the scruff. The jailer shrieked and flailed about. “Help! Someone help me!”
Screams came from upstairs, drowning out the man’s cries. Ramaro hopped down the steps a few moments later, looking slightly singed and out of breath.
“What happened?” Marc asked him.
Ramaro wrinkled his nose as he trotted over to them and climbed onto the desk. “I bit down on the trigger and scared them clear out of the courtyard, but I don’t think that Ironshore has washed his finger in years.” His eyes lit up, and he nodded at the small box on the desk. “Captain! Her whistle!”
Marc snatched the whistle from the box and pocketed it before he returned his focus to his captive. “Tell us where the woman is who was brought in here just a short while ago.”
A wide grin slipped onto the guard’s face. “You’re too late, filth. The woman’s gone. The doc took her to the Admiral.”
Marc tightened his grip on the man’s arm. “What doctor?”
The man shut his eyes and winced. “I’m not telling you anything else! You can go to the deep with her!”
Ramaro lifted his nose, and his eyes widened. “Theo! His scent is in here!”
Marc wrenched the man off the desk and over to a nearby open cell. He tossed the jailer inside and slammed the door shut behind him. The short man crashed head-first into the far wall and slumped to the floor.
Marc turned to Ramaro, and a bright glow came from under his eye patch. “Then we’ll just have to make a house call on the doctor.”
Chapter 39
Theo spun around to face the door. His eyebrows crashed down, and he moved away from me and over to a small table. “Who are you?”
The men strode into the room, and the leader, the Durand fellow, spoke up. “Give us the woman and we will leave without a fuss.”
Theo tightened his grip on the scalpel and charged the trio. Leech stepped forward and grabbed Theo by the wrist just as he swung the scalpel at them. The doctor was stopped dead cold, but that didn’t stop him from struggling to finish his downward strike. His arm didn’t move an inch, and he froze and stared wide-eyed at his captor.
“W-who are you?”
“No one you need be concerned about unless you choose to take your life into your own hands,” the man hissed before he tossed Theo aside.
Theo crashed into his table and both flipped over, with him disappearing behind the overturned top. I thought my heart would explode as they loomed over me. The big one, Swinger, drew his ax and sliced through the ropes that pinned my wrists. Leech grabbed me and yanked me to my feet. He procured a rope from nearby and yanked my arms behind me, tying my wrists together. Leech reached into his coat and drew out a collar which he wrapped around my neck. I didn’t need three guesses to see it was the same style as that worn by Marc.
They pulled me over to the door, but Theo burst out from behind the table. He was armed with vials of his concoctions, and his face was twisted with fury. “I won’t let you take her!”
He threw the potions, and some of the contents struck my new captors. The liquid caused their overcoats to stain, dissolve, and even burst into flames. Leech drew himself between Theo and me, while Durand drew out his daggers. He threw the weapons at Theo. The doctor yelled at the sight of the glistening blades and stumbled back, dropping out of sight.
Leech drew away and tugged on my wrist straps. We continued our escape out of the attic room and down the steps to the ground floor, totaling three floors. The house was sparsely furnished except for some comfortable rugs and a few portraits. Tile in the hall bespoke a feminine touch at one point.
A shadow awaited us at the closed front door. Calder Crestmoor.
I dragged my feet, but Leech tightened his grip and drew me across the washed tiles. Crestmoor bowed his head. “Good evening, Miss Larkin. I hope we haven’t interrupted anything.”
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire. . .” I mumbled.
He chuckled. “Yes, I imagine you feel that way right now, but there’s no need. I merely have a use for you, a job only you can do for me.”
“And what’s that?”
He clucked his tongue. “Surely you should know me better than that, Miss Larkin. We shall craft our dealings in a more appropriate setting where-” A crack of a whip and a whinny of a horse interrupted him. Crestmoor frowned and spun around to face the door. “That sounds like my carriage.”
He swept out the front door, and I was dragged after him, where I was granted my first view of the outside of Theo’s abode. The three-floor mansion had a clean exterior that stood out in the decrepit neighborhood. A medium-height stone wall surrounded the plain grass lawn, and a few neglected flower beds added to the dreary night. Ancient trees cast their long shadows over the narrow street, and a faint breeze rattled their limbs like bones. There wasn’t a living soul around, and hope began to die in my heart.
