HMS Valediction

Chapter 33

Renewed in body and spirit—my hands fresh and tight against John's innards, my spine nubile, my focus honed on the players below—I wait for an opening.

Two Guilded walk past. They've been patrolling this area for a while and haven't changed their route yet. Perfect.

We've been watching. Waiting—so much waiting.

When they turn the corner, we move. As the last glimmer of their armor disappears from view, I relax. "All clear."

Without a noise, John drops from the wall and lands on four nimble legs. He releases us. Coodi and I crouch down and haul ass toward a tucked-away passage on the other side of the hall. We find cover behind a towering marble pillar that stretches to the vaulted ceilings of the ornate corridor. John leads us to an empty, darkened access-way.

Locked. The door doesn't budge when we approach.

The Guilded are due to approach any second. When they return around the corner, they'll spot the three of us hunched around the entryway like it's a campfire on a chilly night and boom—we're toast.

When they turn the corner again, I take the left soldier out with an elbow to the face and throat. As quietly as a ghost, Coodi's swift work of the right soldier returns us to our objective. We drag one of the heavy bodies to our hidden corner, rubbing parts of his armor near or on the door. Nothing unlocks it.

"Fuck," I whisper as I let the unconscious soldier's body slip from my arms to the ground. "Any thoughts on how to open this thing?"

On delicate, nimble legs, John taps his way toward us. Holding my breath, my hope on mute, I egg him on with my eyes.

Yes, John. You can do it. If anyone can find a way in, it's you.

Using his enormous front claws as drills, he spins them against the door. The metal screams. It shrieks, piercing the swollen silence of the mausoleum-still corridor. The high-pitched shrill of his metal claws sparking against the barrier echos until I'm sure the entire galaxy is aware of our position.

When he retreats from his impromptu project, there's a hole big enough for the three of us to crawl through. John backs away, a tiny bubble popping in his neck.

"Are you serious?" I hiss into his stump. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"Commander, hostiles approaching at our nine."

Over my left shoulder, four Guilded storm the halls. Their spears are lowered and pointed directly at our heads.

I turn and dive into the opening while being careful to avoid the hot, jagged metal protruding from it like teeth in a snarling, wide-open mouth. Coodi carefully maneuvers herself in after me. Once John climbs through, we look to the room to continue our journey.

Stone stairs curl up and down. No one is around—we'd hear the clap of their boots against the cold mineral if there was anyone here. Coodi and I find a nook near the door and disappear into the shadows. John scuttles ahead.

Golden helmets pop through the door and groan as the small opening tears the skin not covered by their cumbersome armor. When they eventually make it through, they wait for noise.

In the distance, John makes a ruckus loud enough for them to assume we've gone up. They rush away and through another door on a different floor. When it slams shut and silence permeates the hall, Coodi and I gaze at each other and grin.

We take a quick second to catch our breath. Collapsing onto one of the cold steps, I shake my head and laugh. "They could have opened the door and have walked through." I snort. "Moon was right. They're brainless."