But the horned warrior never turned to look at his attacker. Valefour and his “princess” vanished in a pillar of smoke and fire, leaving a scorch mark on the floorboards.
Craghammer seethed as he stared at the burn, chest rising and falling with every angry breath. “Now I hate him even more.”
Elyssandra came trotting down the stairs, flatiron in hand, a bemused smile playing on her lips.
“You know, come to think of it, it’ll be a while before the hoodie dries completely. And Braiden, what’s it actually made of? Do you think the heat will be good for the fibers?”
She looked around the room and blinked.
“Hang on. Where did Bones go? What did I miss?”
Chapter
Seventeen
“I can’t believe him,”Elyssandra said, pacing up and down the shop floor. “The nerve — the absolutegallto think that he could kidnap me. Me, of all people.”
Craghammer sat on a stool at the counter, arms crossed, eyes closed grimly as he nodded along to everything Elyssandra said. “I would have loved to cave in that smug skull of his. And did you see what he did to the floor?”
Braiden thought it was awfully sweet that Craghammer was so concerned about the condition of the shop. But in reality, they should have been more worried about the condition of their freshly kidnapped friend.
“Gods, I hope that Bones is okay.”
Warren looked up from the floorboards, a rag in hand as he paused from trying to polish the scorch mark out of the varnished wood.
“I would be more concerned for the demon. Frankly, it unsettles my heart to know that Bones must be terrified. He must be screaming his head off with every waking moment, and you know that he never falls asleep.”
Augustin breathed, sudden realization on his face. “That demon warrior must already be regretting his decision.”
Warren tapped his nose and pointed at Augustin. “Then you understand. Give this a few more hours, and our demon friend will be bleeding copiously out of his ears.”
Braiden wrung his hands, hating that it had come to this, that it would almost definitely mean descending again. “What are the chances that Valefour decides kidnapping Bones isn’t worth his time and just returns him to us?”
Augustin shook his head. “About as equivalent to him doing something drastic to the poor thing just to shut him up. I hate to say this, friends, but it appears we have no recourse. We must re-enter the dungeon and mount a rescue.”
Braiden could tell that Augustin wasn’t sorry at all, despite the sternness of his poker face. The glimmer in his eyes and the strain at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Somewhere deep inside, Augustin was elated to be going on another grand adventure.
“I’m coming with you,” Elyssandra said. “What I wouldn’t give to wring that crimson man’s neck. Oh, but Craghammer — will you be all right managing the store on your own?”
Craghammer sighed and finally opened his eyes, accepting the foregone conclusion. “I can do that. You shouldn’t worry. I would have loved to come with you as well, if only for the pleasure of punching the demon’s face to custard. But alas. Mr. Arcosa, you may have to teach me how to manage your elixirs while you’re gone.”
“To the best of my ability,” Augustin replied. “And I’ve told you before, Craghammer. We’re friends. I’d be thrilled if you’d call me plain old Augustin instead.”
Craghammer smiled with a mouth full of pointed teeth. “Plain old Augustin it is, then.”
They prepared to leave immediately.
Elyssandra sifted through her things, picking out her backup cloaks before she packed up the house, then retrieved her haircomb from the patch of dirt just outside the store. Warren took it upon himself to pay a quick visit to the Noose to secure additional rations for their journey.
“You’d be surprised at how quick I can go,” Warren had said, springing up and down on his feet as if to demonstrate his ability to hop from place to place.
Braiden still had never seen the burrowfolk’s powerful legs leaping in action — which was odd, considering they’d traveled together for so long — but maybe on this trip down the dungeon, he would.
Braiden shoved everything that looked important or useful into his rucksack. Good thing he hadn’t completely unpacked from his trip with Augustin to Yhip Valley. He hoisted the heavy thing over his shoulders and rushed down the stairs, the worry brewing like a storm in his chest.
Every passing moment meant Bones was drawing closer to real danger. And Bones was helpless down there. No weaver string wrapped around his rib cage to turn himself into a musical instrument, and no instrument at all to begin with.
“Gods,” Braiden said, smacking himself in the forehead. “We spent so much on the Heirloom when we should have invested at least a little something in getting Bones an instrument of his own.”
