Gramps nodded. “She’s right,” he said to Frieda. “I, for one, do not plan on dying in a sewer.”
I wouldn’t mind, Sherlock admitted. The smells are lovely!
“You’re sick,” Maria said quietly.
Like I’ve said many times before, I’m a dog. Cut me some slack.
Maria could only shake her head. Sherlock was right; he was a dog. Besides, she didn’t have time to harp on whether Sherlock was gross or not. It was time for her to lead. She’d gained enough energy back to do that, and now she had backup again.
Strength in numbers; true on Earth, true on Oriceran.
“Let’s go,” Maria said. “Gelbus first. Here, help me lift him.”
Frieda wore a grim expression on her face, but she helped Maria hoist Gelbus up through the jagged rectangle.
“I really never planned on coming back here,” Gelbus grunted as he pulled himself up. “I escaped, and now I’m at square one again. How foolish of me.”
“So foolish it may work yet,” Gramps chimed in. “Let’s not chatter. Let us go.”
What if the cell door is locked? What if I can’t muster up enough magic to blow it off its hinges? Time is short and we can’t afford anything else slowing us down…
As if Gramps could read her mind, he put a hand on her shoulder, and smiled at her in that way that only her loving and quirky grandfather ever could.
“Don’t worry, Maria. You will be fine. This is your destiny.”
My destiny, yeah, but what about yours?
She almost said that.
The words were on her lips, but saying them aloud meant making them real, giving them weight. She imagined it was a lot like saying a spell inside your head instead of speaking it from your lips, though she was sure there were probably magic users out there who could think spells with as much power as if they were saying them.
Instead, she said nothing at all; just returned Gramps’s smile and hoped he didn’t see through it.
“Sherlock next,” she prompted.
You’re gonna leave me up there, alone with the Gnome? I don’t think that’s a smart idea.
“Oh, please, Sherlock. You guys are practically best friends now. He rode you like a horse.”
Don’t remind me.
“Quit being an ass and come here. This’ll be over soon. I’m right behind you.”
Sherlock jumped into Maria’s arms. He was much too big a dog for him to fit comfortably, but somehow Maria held strong. Frieda quickly helped. Grunting, the two witches hoisted Sherlock through the hole. Gelbus grabbed him and gently eased him through the rest of the way.
Yeah, yeah, Gnome, buy me a drink first next time, Sherlock said.
“Okay, Frieda,” Maria said. “I’ll boost you.”
Frieda shook her head. “No, I’ll boost you, then Ignatius. I can make the jump myself. I’m currently the strongest; don’t worry about me.”
Maria hesitated, but Gramps caught her eye and nodded slowly.
I don’t like others sacrificing themselves for me, but she’s probably right. I’m weak, and I don’t know if I can make the jump on my own. I guess that’s what family is for, huh?
Maria stepped onto Frieda’s knee, and both Gramps and Frieda lent her their hands to help her rise up to the dim, fire-lit prison cell.
“Take my hand,” Gelbus offered.
And my paw, Sherlock chimed in.
She obeyed. When she got up from the stone floor, she was happy to see that the cell door wasn’t shut, just closed over.
Gramps came next. He did most of the work, which Maria was glad to see, though his face did go a few shades darker from the strain. But Maria could see by looking into his eyes that he was stronger than he’d been when they entered the Cave of Delusion.
“DOWN HERE! Captain, they’re down here. I hear them!” one of the Dragon Tongue said, his voice echoing through the sewer tunnels below the cell.
“Make haste, Frieda,” Gramps urged.
They all gathered around the hole, their hands outstretched to help Frieda come through. Frieda, using some magic to give her an extra push, summoned flames from her palms in a short burst, like a jet propulsion system. She flew through the hole without much help from the others.
“Okay, we’re all here. Let’s get the hell out,” Maria said.
She led the way through the door, careful to sidle through. They didn’t need the extra noise of the door’s hinges screeching out like they had earlier. Even the moaning cries and pleas from the prisoners couldn’t do much to cover that up. Maria poked her head out over the threshold and glanced in both directions, one hand on the hilt of her sword, the other absentmindedly checking that the music box was still in the satchel around her shoulders. It was, and the coast was clear. She waved the rest on.
“Left,” Gelbus directed. “That’s the way out of here. I remember.”
Sure you wanna trust a Gnome—a drunk Gnome, at that? Sherlock sneered.
She would’ve shushed him, had his voice not only been in her head.
Gramps nodded at Maria. “Quickly.”
She went left, but not before glancing at the arms sticking out from between the iron bars, the faces smashed between, begging for help.
It broke Maria’s heart to turn away from them. But she did.
The group got to the end of the corridor and made it to the exit. They could see the night outside was clear and quiet. There was no sign of the Dragon Tongue, at least not nearby. They were probably all too busy scouring the underground tunnels for the escaped prisoners.
I can’t do it. I can’t leave all of those people. I’m sure some of them are fighters, too. They can help us bring the Dragon Tongue down. She stopped and turned in the direction of the cells.
“Maria, dear, what are you doing?” Gramps asked. The others had
