Not that Connor needed one while on their hulking vessel.

  Connor selected a runed rod, sheathed at his hip, and a bandoleer of five large, enchanted steel throwing knives over his shoulder and torso.

  The bandoleer seemed as though it ought to help distract from his lack of uniform up close and it wouldn’t do much of anything to alter his silhouette. It also meant he could give Adelia a few knives without carrying them by the handful.

  While the runed rod sheathed at his waist seemed to be what most of the guards carried and thus ought to make him look even more like one of them at distance in the dim light.

  He was sorely tempted to take a crossbow and a quarrel of enchanted crossbow bolts. But he hadn’t seen any guards carrying one and he wanted to avoid anything that might make him stand out. Besides, if it came to a fight on the ship, he would easily be overwhelmed before getting a chance to reload anyway.

  So, he reluctantly restrained himself.

  He stepped out of the armory and closed the door behind him. He considered leaving the armory door unlocked as it might save time if he needed it later. But he’d already seen guards making the rounds and it seemed unwise to assume the prisons were the only places they were routinely checking.

  It would be easy for a guard to have come by the armory multiple times so far tonight, testing the door each time. And if they suddenly found it unlocked…

  No. He couldn’t afford to take such a chance. Not when so much hung in the balance. And not to maybe save a few seconds.

  Even though he was now more familiar with that particular lock, the unwieldy bits of fork were still tricky enough to make locking the door behind him take a little less than thirty seconds.

  Connor walked swiftly but silently to the galley where he put the kitchen knife he’d taken back as carrying an unsheathed knife around seemed pointless with five more suitable ones strapped to his chest.

  He considered the issue of where to find the keys to what seemed to be Adelia’s cell.

  The rooms with the snoring seemed like they contained more people than Connor would’ve thought the Syndicate would want to have access to the keys. That left the one dark room he didn’t know anything about as the most likely candidate he could think of.

  Unless they were kept on another deck of course.

  That was an unpleasant thought. Even more unpleasant when he considered that he could easily give up his chance at escaping by trying to find a key to a cell that might not even truly hold Adelia.

  But… if there was even a chance it was Adelia… he wouldn’t leave her behind to rot. Not now. Not ever.

  Especially not when it was his fault that the Syndicate had captured her in the first place.

  I’ll make it right. I swear it. Even if this isn’t you… I’ll find the real you. I’ll find you and I’ll free you. I’ll make it right. I swear to the gods I will, Connor thought.

  He heard footsteps up ahead and ducked behind the wall of the mystery room near the galley.

  He waited as the footsteps walked casually away, heading aft toward the stem of the ship and the prison section he’d seen on this deck.

  He heard a door open and shut and looked around the corner. Once again, he was alone. Though he had no doubt that patrol would be coming back any minute.

  He tried the door of the mystery room and to his surprise, it opened easily.

  The dim light of the lanterns behind him spilled into the room like orange water that revealed its contents.

  Two hammocks. One empty. The other was occupied with a man who turned away from the intrusion with a grumble of some unintelligible complaint. Between the hammocks, hanging from a hook on the wall, was a ring of keys. In fact, it looked like a set of master keys. Potentially to every cell on the ship. Beside that ring was another hook though it held nothing.

  Connor left the door open behind him for light and slowly, silently drew one of the enchanted knives from his bandoleer as he walked toward the keys and the man who’d turned over on his side and covered the side of his head with a pillow to block out the light.

  “Hurry up,” the man growled, “I just got to sleep.”

  Connor considered killing the man but hesitated. Even a clean cut would leave a body and evidence he had no way of hiding. Worse, if he got any blood on himself, and he was quite certain he would, that would make it all the harder to avoid alerting anyone who came upon him.

  He closed his hand around the set of keys to silence their jingle and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him as he looked back over the man on the hammock who seemed not to have turned and seen that Connor wasn’t who the man had assumed he was.

  The door closed with a soft click and Connor made for the stairs down nearest the prison section as he sheathed his knife back in his bandoleer.

  You should’ve killed him, a thought in the back of his mind chastised him.

  If it had been necessary, I’d have done it, Connor argued with himself.

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  Yet, he couldn’t help feeling angry with himself for allowing a Syndicate man to live.

  He took in a calming, meditative breath.

  Petty revenge is not the priority, he reminded himself, escaping is what matters.

  As Connor walked down the hallway, his nerves were on edge as he feared the patrol he’d seen a moment ago would return and see him.

  The guard shouldn’t be back so soon as he hadn’t been long, their pace had been slow, and there was a good chance the guard was checking every cell which would take yet more time.

  Even so, Connor increased his pace to a brisk walk. His nerves wanted to run, but his rational mind knew better than to give in to such foolish impulses.

  He made it to the stairs without incident and went down them, slowing his pace to something more leisurely and less suspicious with an effort of will as he did so. The stairway brought him right near the prison section where he’d just escaped from.

  His heart thundered in his chest and his palms were slick with sweat as he pretended to unlock the door with one of his keys then quickly opened it and slipped inside, wondering if he would come face to face with a patrol inside.

  The hallway was empty.

  He closed the door behind him and silence entombed him.

  He strode to the far end of the hallway and peered through the keyhole. Again, he saw no sign of a patrol. Part of him thought he was being paranoid. After all, he knew a patrol had come through here only moments ago.

  Still… one could only sneak around an enemy ship for so long before something inevitably went horribly wrong. When it did, he hoped he’d be able to handle it.

  The higher security hallway was empty too. At least as far as he could tell as this time the mast worked against him.

  He opened the door and closed it behind him before heading straight for what he was afraid to hope was Adelia’s cell.

  He opened the viewport panel.

  “Are you ready to go?” Connor asked.

  Despite speaking softly, his words sounded far too loud to his ears in the silence. Even with the knowledge that the silencing enchantments would make him impossible to hear elsewhere on the ship, his nerves weighed on him and made it difficult to speak much above a whisper.

  “You found the keys?” Adelia asked.

  “I bloody well hope so,” Connor said as he fanned them out and compared them to the locks arrayed before them.

  Fabric tore and he heard a frustrated, animalistic growl before a scrap of blanket flew into a visible section of the floor and landed with a light thud.

  Connor didn’t know what the hells Adelia was playing at and focused on unlocking the door. It took seven tries to find the right key for the first lock and he made a note of it before moving on to the next, feeling the seconds slipping away and all the while worried that another patrol would come upon him from behind. Though, now he was equipped to deal with it a little better at least.

  He heard the muffled rip of yet more fabric and another disgruntled snarl.

  “You should just go. I can find another way out,” Adelia said, “I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Don’t be absurd. We’re doing this now,” Connor said as he tried several keys on the second lock even as he wondered why Adelia or whatever this creature was kept trying to get him to leave without her.

  It made no sense whether it was Adelia or something else. Why would anyone or anything not want to escape from the Syndicate’s clutches? Was it a manipulation tactic to generate trust? That didn’t make much sense either. Who would trust someone that didn’t want to escape?

  “You don’t understand,” Adelia said, “you’ll hate me.”

  Connor scoffed. “I could never hate you,” he said, “now quiet. I don’t want us to be heard if another patrol comes in.”

  Connor unlocked the second lock and moved on to the third, which he got on a lucky first try. They came faster after that as he whittled down the number of options available.

  Gods this is overkill. Even for her, Connor thought.

  Finally, he made it through the rest of the locks and opened the door. He walked into the room and paused near the bars of her cell.

  “Adelia,” Connor said hesitantly as he eyed the blankets suspended from the ceiling. There seemed to be fewer of them now.

  ‘Adelia’ said nothing though he heard her shuffling around behind the blanket.

  “Adelia. Stop this hiding. I need to see it’s really you,” Connor said.

  “I… I can’t,” Adelia said, “I don’t have my mask and I can’t get these stupid blankets to stay where they’re supposed to!”

  It was then that her strange behavior began to make some semblance of sense. It was almost a relief and his hope that this was indeed Adelia soared.

  Then, came anger as he thought of the way he’d been stripped down and how she must’ve lost her mask to begin with.

  He resisted the rising tide of rage that swelled up his throat and tensed his muscles. He could deal with such feelings later. For now, all that mattered was getting them off this ship. He considered what to say very carefully.

  Adelia had always been incredibly sensitive about being seen. So much so that in all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen more than her violet eyes.

  He softened the impatience in his voice as much as he was able.

  “I know it’s not easy for you. But, I have to see that it’s you and not some deceitful creature. We can’t afford to spend time arguing about this. We need to move,” Connor said, “I still want to see more of this ship before we go and every second is precious.”

  “Maybe you could come back when you’re done then? That’ll give me more time to make something suitable…” Adelia said.

  Connor pressed the bridge of his nose to hold back his agitation.

  “You know that’s ridiculous. Please. Do you truly believe you could ever be disfigured enough for me to discard you? I don’t care what you look like. I just want to know that it’s you. I just want to get us out of here,” Connor said.

  “It’s not that simple” Adelia said, “Please, I just need more time. Or if you could find me some pins…”

  Connor looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Gods dammit, Adelia, I’m not going to search the ship for clothes pins! You’ve seen me without clothes. I think I can handle your face!” he snapped.

  “Can you?” Adelia asked.

  There was a defiant edge to her voice more reminiscent of the Adelia he knew and she stepped out from behind the blanket screen she’d erected.

  She’d wrapped pieces of blanket around herself, covering most of her face well enough. But she’d failed to adequately cover the skin on her arms. And the cut of her dress was too high to hide the skin on the lower parts of her legs.

  Connor froze as his eyes went wide with a mixture of shock and horror.

  Her skin which he’d thought had been pale white judging by what little he’d seen around the opening of her mask was now clearly a light blue hue. Such a significant change would’ve been difficult to process in and of itself. But, perhaps he could’ve rationalized it away.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t so easily explain away the tough-looking inhuman flesh around her legs and hands or the fact her ‘fingernails’ were in fact black claws that had been carefully filed down.

  Nor could he prevent himself from realizing the significance of the demonic markings upon her skin that burned with violet energy.

  “No…” Connor breathed.

  “Do you get it now? Do you understand why I told you to leave?” Adelia asked as tears welled up in her eyes and she pulled off the fabric around her face, revealing beautiful, regal, elven features.

  “Gods damn you, Connor,” Adelia said, “Why couldn’t you just go?”

  Connor swallowed hard. “You’re a demonspawn,” he said.

  Not that it needed stating when the markings gave it away but somehow the words spilled from his lips without conscious thought. Perhaps because he couldn’t accept what he was seeing and some part of him fervently wished she would tell him he was wrong.

  That it was some enchantment placed upon the cell. Some curse. Some dark magic the Syndicate had worked upon her. Something, anything, to say that she wasn’t what he now knew she had to be.

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