The room was empty.
Well, he thought it was empty, but he couldn't see behind him. He'd been raised in the hell that was a Chosen camp, where they would play games like making you think you were alone all the time. Then let you know—painfully—that you were not.
It meant you could never lower your guard.
He had exceptional hearing, and exceptional eyesight, gifts from his mother and her people, and he heard the light, quick steps coming down the passage toward him long before they slowed to a stop at his door.
He tensed, still unsure there wasn't someone sitting absolutely still behind him. There were people like that. People who even those with almost magically-heightened senses like himself couldn't detect.
People from Lustre and even Kassia. And Grimwalt.
The footsteps were those of a woman or a young boy, and he was surprised when he heard the faint chime of keys and the scratch of iron turning in a lock.
He dropped the pretence of unconsciousness and looked up as the door opened. He actually gaped as Ava stepped in, awkwardly holding the keys and a bucket and mop.
She looked around the room as she closed the door behind her, and he relaxed when she focused back on him without any cry of alarm at someone being in the room with him.
“You have the strength to run?” she whispered, her gaze going to the bruises on his face and then lingering on the black mottling on his chest and sides.
He nodded as she shoved the keys into a pocket, carefully put the bucket and mop down so they didn't clatter, and then brought out a small knife.
“Don't know how sharp it is.” She crouched beside him and he was left staring at the dirty rag she'd tied over her head.
He felt her slide the small blade between his wrist and the rope, pulling it toward her.
The fibers give easily.
“Very sharp.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He wondered where she'd got it. She hadn't had it before, he was sure of that.
She gave a final tug and the rope dropped to the ground. He flexed his hand as the blood rushed back and Ava shuffled around him to work on his other wrist.
Then she was crouched at his feet, sawing at the rope around his ankles.
He stumbled up when they went slack, putting a hand on Ava's shoulder for balance.
“How badly did they hurt you?” She was looking up at him from the ground, face tipped up as she spoke, and he saw the calm, the competence in her expression.
This was a formidable person he was dealing with.
“Ribs and face,” he said, giving her the respect he would to his seconds in the army he'd created. The truth just was. It was how you used the information that counted.
“They didn't take off your bandages?” Her gaze was on the strips she had tied around him yesterday. “Check how you were healing?”
He shook his head. “Why would they?”
She shrugged as she stood, pocketing the knife and then gathering up the bucket and mop. The rag on her head had slipped a little and her golden brown hair stuck out, hair he'd been fascinated by since he'd met her—the soft look of it, the short spikes, had mesmerised him.
If her guards had cut it to humiliate her, they had failed. She looked as beautiful and fey as a Grimwalter could. The short hair only offset her sharp chin and her big brown eyes.
She held the bucket and mop like armor, and leaned against the door to listen.
There was no one coming.
She glanced at him, and he nodded before they both stepped out.
Ava turned and locked the door.
He approved. It was better to leave it as it had been. It would confuse whoever came for him next. Make them wonder if someone else in authority had taken him.
Before they could choose a direction, the sound of laughter drifted down from the stairwell.
They both froze, pivoted, and looked down the gloomy passage that ran past the question room into darkness.
“What's down that way?” Luc whispered.
“I don't know. I've never been here before.”
The laughter became louder, and Luc could hear Juni's voice. They were looking forward to whatever they had planned for him.
“They're here for me.”
She gave a snort. “Really?”
Despite the situation, he grinned at her, then started moving into the gloom to find a hiding place.
He noticed the deep recess in the wall straight away.
“In here.”
She hesitated, then moved, and he crowded her into the space, so they were both pressed up against the cold stone wall.
They were only just in time.
He heard the jangle of keys and then the scrape of a key in the lock and the slam of the door against the wall.
“Shit.” Luc didn't recognize the voice that swore so meaningfully. “How do we explain that?”
“Relax. Maybe Garmand took him up to the general.” That was Juni.
“What do you mean? Why would he send us down here to interrogate the prisoner if he'd already taken him somewhere else?”
“Garmand didn't send us down here. This was my idea. I thought a little more questioning might shake something loose.”
There was a moment of silence. “This wasn't sanctioned and now we get here and the prisoner is gone? Who's going to believe we didn't kill him and hid his body to cover for ourselves?”
“We walk away. No one knows we're down here. We just go back up.” Juni sounded nervous for the first time since Luc had met him.
“And if he's escaped?”
“The door was locked, remember? Chances are the general demanded to see him.” Juni sounded like he was trying to convince himself, but his words had the desired effect.
“That's true, it was locked.” The soldier with him gave a nervous laugh. “Still, let's get out of here.”
They moved away, with none of the laughter and joking they'd shared coming down, their boots ringing a quick staccato.
When they were gone, Luc eased a little away from Ava and looked down at her. “All right?” He was pressed up close to her, and he could see the sweep of her eyelashes in the flickering torchlight.
He moved aside and she stepped around him.
He must be cold, he realized. He felt a physical ache as she moved away. His shirt had long been ripped off him, and as they'd pressed together in the small crevice, her body heat had helped to warm him.
Ava looked in the direction of the stairs. “Let's try the other way first.”
He nodded, turning to lead the way. The stone floor was icy on his bare feet, and he shivered.
“I should have brought a blanket for you. I'm sorry.” Her words were soft behind him, and he gave a grunt in response.
A bit of cold was nothing.
Freedom was worth any price.
They neither heard nor saw anyone as they walked the unlit corridor.
Ava worried they would find themselves at a dead end and be caught, unable to evade whoever came to look for them.
Luc must have worried about that, too, because she ran in to him a few times in the darkness, standing with his head tilted back the way they had come, listening for signs of pursuit.
His torso looked terrible, black and red, swollen where he'd been hit.
“They didn't just use their fists, did they?” She reached out to touch him, but withdrew her hand before her fingertips made contact.