Chapter 18

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Warily, Laya peered around the corner of the dank corridor along which lay the stronghold's dungeons, and contemplated the dimly-lit staircase leading back up to the castle proper.  She knew from her entry to the dungeons that a guardroom lay at the top of those stairs, and unfortunately, in her (admittedly limited) experience, guardrooms usually contained guards.  The clue was in the title.

Crouched just behind her, Danus gave her a poke in the back.  "I still can't believe they didn't lock the door of our room."

Laya hadn't quite been able to believe it either, but then, after some consideration, she had realised that locking the door of a room in which the prisoners were chained safely to the wall probably was a bit redundant.  Even if their current situation tended to suggest otherwise.

She had explained this to Danus, but he didn't seem to be able to let it go, possibly because for the first time in his his life, he'd been the beneficiary of somebody else actually being less smart than he was.  "Yes, Danus.  That's the sixth time you've told me.  Now, you need to keep your voice down, because we're almost at the guardroom."

"Okay—how's this?" he asked, in the sort of stage-whisper that any self-respecting thespian, trying to project their sepulchral tones to the back of a particularly large theatre, would have been proud to produce.

"Great, Danus.  Excellent.  In fact, it's such a good voice that I don't think we should waste it. How about we save it up, in case we need it for later?"

"OK, Lay—" began Danus, before stopping abruptly.  He smiled, gave her an elaborate wink, and then made a zipping gesture across his lips, followed by a thumbs-up.

Not quite able to believe that her ploy had worked, Laya returned to her contemplation of the staircase.  She had no idea how they were going to get through the guardroom, but at least now she could think in pea—

"Hey, Laya?"

With a ferocious scowl, she whirled around and grabbed the big youth by his lapels.  "Danus!" she hissed.  "I know they left the door unlocked, I know you can't believe it, and I know that for some inexplicable reason you want to keep talking about it.  But I don't!  If I hear about that bloody door being bloody unlocked one more time, I'm going to punch you again, and this time it will be somewhere much more painful.  Are we clear?"

Danus hung his head.  "Yes, Laya," he replied, abjectly.

Feeling slightly guilty, Laya let go of his shirt, and tried half-heartedly to smooth out the worst of the crinkles.  "OK, good.  Now let me think."  She turned back to the stairway.

"Um, Laya?  It's just that..."

Slowly, she turned back around.  "Yes, Danus?" she replied. Her voice was soft, but not the kind of soft that made you think about pillows or kittens or marshmallows.  It was more the kind that made you think of quicksand, or possibly, a silk garrote.

Danus correctly interpreted the variety of soft, but taking a deep breath, ploughed on regardless.  "You know how they left our door unlocked?"

Laya managed to stop grinding her teeth long enough to growl, "Yes."  Menacingly, she made a fist, and even more menacingly, lowered it.

Subconsciously, Danus pressed his knees together.  "It's just that I can't help but wonder," he stammered, "whether they might have left some other dungeon doors unlocked.  And if they did, then we could maybe, you know, sort of rescue some people.  A bit."

Laya considered this.  She blinked.  "You know what, Danus?"

He closed his eyes tightly.  "You're going to hit me now?"

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