“You’re not wrong, Murt,” Derog said to the big man, “but you are missing the point. The point is, if one of you touches her again, I’ll hang you by your balls off the tree in the courtyard.”
The two guards held still.
“You,” Derog pointed at the weasel-face, “come with me. You!” He pointed at Murt. “Guard. I don’t want to come down here again tonight. No more trouble, no more screams.”
Murt nodded.
The weasel-face tossed a ring with two keys to the big guard and gave me a thisisn’t-fucking-over look. He was right. It wasn’t over until all of them were dead.
Derog headed toward the stairs, weasel-face in tow, stopped, and turned. “Where is Kaiden?”
Shit.
“He has the runs, terr,” Clover said from the latrine’s doorway. She was standing with her feet together, her head slightly bowed, still keeping Derog in her view but not looking straight at him. Her arms were bent slightly at the elbows and her hands were together, right over left.
It looked like a pose a maid from a noble household might assume. Her face was serene, her expression perfectly neutral. I got the feeling that if Derog threw a bucket of blood at her right now, she’d stay just like that.
Derog’s gaze sharpened. “Does he?”
He started toward the latrine.
We were busted. It was over. I could sprint to the upstairs door, but I wouldn’t, because the kids would be left behind. And weasel-face would catch me.
Kaiden stumbled out of the latrine.
Had he gone through the hole or not? I couldn’t tell. He didn’t look like a child who had crawled through dirt.
I had failed. The escape had failed.
But the kids were alive. It would be fine. I would think of something else.
“Come here,” Derog ordered.
The boy walked over, defiance all over his face. My heart was in my throat, and it had squeezed itself into a painful rock that kept me from breathing.
Derog frowned. “Have you been drinking from the faucet?”
Kaiden looked at him. If he’d had a weapon, any weapon, he would’ve tried to stab Derog.
“I asked you a question,” Derog said.
“No.”
Derog shook his head. “If he doesn’t improve by morning, tell the guard to get a healer.”
“Yes, terr,” Clover said.
Derog turned and he and the weasel-face went up the stairs. The door clanged shut.
Murt glared at all of us and put his meaty hand on the short club hanging from his belt. “Bed. Now.” He stabbed his finger in my direction and then pointed at the nearest cot. “Maggie, sleep here.”
I walked to the bed, took off my boots, and lay down.
At the other side of the room Kaiden crawled into his bunk. Clover settled to the left of him, by the little girls. Their faces told me absolutely nothing.
Murt walked over to the lantern in the wall by my bed, stuck the key into the lock of the cage, and opened it. “Everyone goes the fuck to sleep.”
He blew the flame out and moved on to the next lantern.
