A Certain Prisoner

“You are without mercy.” Mildred’s assessment carried approval. “You will do well around these parts.”

From her, that was high praise. The cost of earning it sat heavy in my chest.

“I have another task to ask of you. There is a female vrykul prisoner that’s become more of a liability than I had anticipated. She had the gall to claim the right to take part in the Hyldsmeet, our sacred competition of strength and fighting prowess.”

The Hyldsmeet. Even I knew that name. The competition to determine who would rule at Thorim’s side.

Mildred pressed a key into my hand. Cold iron. “Here’s the key to her shackles. Make it as painless as possible. She’s a female after all, even if not one of us.”

An execution order. Delivered like a minor administrative task.

I found Lok’lira where I’d left her. She didn’t seem surprised to see me, or the key.

“It’s about time.” Something flickered in her eyes. Satisfaction, maybe. “I knew you’d be back! Get me out of these shackles and I’ll help you find the goblin.”

The chains fell away. Mildred expected a corpse. She’d get an empty cell and questions she couldn’t answer.

Now came the harder part: getting Zeev out alive.