Page 92 of Break Out the Girl

“Do the cameras in the trees have audio?” I ask quickly.

“No, sir.”

Perfect.

We can be seen but not heard.

I herd him into the nearest thicket, then lay a hand on his shoulder. “I take it you are not here of your own free will?” I pin him with my gaze, just enough to get the full truth from him. “What would you do if I disabled your collar?”

He sucks in a breath, looking over his shoulder then back at me. “I-I…”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I would worry that it was one of the Director’s tests. I would fail it if I didn’t immediately report the incident. If you fail a test, there are no second chances.” James grimaces, like he can’t believe the honest words came out of his mouth.

“But if you knew it was not a test, then what?”

“I’d run. Run back to Ashgrave. Find my wife. Gods, my poor wife. First our daughter is locked up, then she loses her husband.” My attention tightens, even though I have so little time for the personal agonies of this working-man.

“A daughter locked up? In Quo?”

“Yes, sir. My daughter Layla. She’s a good girl though. Always trying to help, even if her methods aren’t exactly legit.” His voice trails off and he looks down to his battered shoes.

Layla—I see it now. This man, James, has the same bronze skin-tone, and troubled eyes of Taliesin’s muscle-bound sidekick.

Tout devient plus compliqué.

Everything is getting more and more complicated. I have a certain feeling that Aurora would not be pleased if I left her friend’s father in the hands of the Director.

But there is so little time.

Mind made up, I take his head between my hands. “I am a friend of Layla’s. You completely trust me. Going forward, you will help me fully and unconditionally. You will not reveal my mission to anyone.”

He sways a little on his feet then blinks. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then we have to find the main prize. It is a girl I am bound to rescue. We must work quickly and efficiently, understand?” I race to formulate a plan.

How can James be an asset rather than a hindrance?

I’ll need to cover as much ground as possible, scanning for heat below the muddy surface. My basilisk senses are incredibly honed to the vibrations of the earth, and I can also ‘see’ the infrared radiation caused by body heat.

James will be no help there, but four hands will be better than two when it comes to digging up a coffin. But he’ll need to keep up with me, and that’s impossible in his feeble state.

He’ll have to ride on my back. A degradation I promised myself I’d never allow.

And what of the forest cameras?

I can produce an aura around my body which should cause distorting static whenever we are in their vicinity. That will do.

“James, I am going to shift. You will climb onto my body and hold on tightly. Do not make a sound, and for the sake of whatever Gods you pray to… do not fall off.”

His eyes blink several times, but my hypnosis takes away the terror as I transform back to my basilisk skin in a sharp, grinding ache. My torso, newly knit back together, groans under the strain of the shifting bones.

I keep my form somewhat compressed, just a fifteen-foot column of iridescent, midnight-black scales. My girth is that of a sturdy tree trunk. James whimpers slightly as he approaches my coiled form and straddles my upper back, locking his arms and legs around me with a death grip.

Au boulot!

I slither quickly into the dark, sending my focus outwards. My vision works like a thermal camera. The forest is deep purples and greens, with the driving rain a freezing sheet of violet. But the mud shows a generalized subtle warmth. Here and there my attention is caught, but it is a squirrel, or mouse.