It’s only when I dispatch my last opponent and look around, finding no one else left standing, that I realise we’ve won.
Almost.
The final guard in the area visibly pisses himself as one of the three salamanders stomps over to him.
I’ve never seen a huge, flat-headed lizard eat someone until today, and from the horrific crunching noises which ensue, I don’t think I want to again.
“They do realise they’ll be shitting out fancy buttons for days after this?”Opal’s thoughts are in tune with mine as we gape at the still munching salamander.
It swallows.
Belches smoke.
Then shifts back into a very naked Vespar, who burps again.
Gross.
Ignoring him, I take the keys I stashed in my pouch and immediately crouch by the nearest padlocked grate.
There has to be dozens of keys on here. I growl under my breath in frustration.
A huge, scaled foot clamps down on the metal before I can even try one. The metal heats, then crumples away like paper.
Okay, maybe the overgrown fire-lizards have some uses.
“Thanks,” I mutter, looking over to see the others doing the same with the next few.
None of the sirens leap out to their freedom. None of them even poke a hand above the water. I crouch, grimacing as I lean down.
“It’s safe.” It feels so stupid to be talking to a pool. “The guards are dead. I’m a witch, and I’m here to free you. If you come out, I’ll cut off the gag.”
Still nothing.
Without warning, a hairy, male arm reaches past me into the water, then pulls back, hand clenched around a frail, sickly looking wrist covered in lines of half-moon scars.
The arm doesn’t fight back, and as Monroe pulls her further out of the pond, I realise just how wrong the grey colour of her skin is.
“Dead,” the salamander curses, letting the body fall to one side. “Fucking sirens always taking the easy way out.”
I glance up at him, confused.
“They’re the only species that can literally will themselves to death. Their sorrow lets them do it or some shit.”
I grimace and look down at the puffy, still-open eyes of the poor woman. How many times had she had her scales ripped out for the Queen’s fake immortality before she decided to give up?
“May the Goddess watch over your star, and may your death be more peaceful than your life was,” I whisper the blessing over her as I move away.
The salamanders look at me for direction.
“They can’t all be dead.” Please, Goddess, don’t let them all be dead. “We open every hatch. I won’t leave any possible survivors down here.”
Their grim nods don’t make it any easier.
Rossiter shifts back. “We’ll melt the locks off.”
It’s a slow, morbid task. The first three are dead, but our first live siren is worse. Even after I’ve sliced off the gag that’s bitten red marks into her cheeks, the woman keeps trying to throw herself back into her cell. Nightmares haunting her eyes, no matter how many times I try to reassure her that she’s safe now.
That tiny hole in the ground is safer to her fractured mind than the chance at freedom.
