Page 37 of Spectral Seas (Spectral Worlds #2)

T HE TRIO STOPPED before a heavy wooden door, a fervor of yelps and howls pummeling from the other side. One of their reptoid escorts grabbed the thick lever handle and gave it a jerk, the bolt released with hollow thud. As he pushed the door in, a wet warm waft of urine, feces, and rot rushed out and washed over them.

Before them was a wide, single-story corridor, with black metal barred cells lining either side. Abby’s optics measured the room fifty meters deep, and standing midway down the corridor were two Indici jailers. Their heads wore cowled hoods as the other monks but rather than robes, they wore the light armor of wide leather straps crisscrossed over their chest, wide belts, and leather skirts. The jailers slowly turned to face the open door, their flaming blue orbs glowing from beneath their cowled hoods. The reptoid who’d opened the door to the dungeon led the way forward. “Cuh-um,” he rasped. Abby and the Umbra followed.

The barred cage cells lining either side were overcrowded with howling bipedal humanoid creatures with the muzzles, fine fur, and claws of ferocious hounds. They barked, bellowed, and howled as the group passed, more than once swiping out a long-clawed paw from between the bars.

Abby kept his head forward, sure the rile was as much for sport than anything else.

When they neared the jailers, their escort threw up a hand to halt them. “Wait here,” he said, then approached one of the jailer monks. The two stood face to face, their heads twitching while they conducted, what Abby assumed to be, a silent psionic communication.

After the silent interaction, the cowled jailer nodded then pivoted to lead them further down the corridor.

The escort faced the three, his slender forked tongue flicking in and out. “Thisss way,” he said.

Abby briefly hesitated but the crackle of the second staff still behind them prompted him to follow the three reptoids down the line of cells. One of the lashing Lupo managed to snag one of the jailer’s cowled hoods with his long limber claws. The reptoid spun his head toward the beast who dared strike. The Lupo’s reaction was instant. He threw his paws up over his pointy ears, let out a high painful howl, then collapsed to floor of his cell.

Abby assumed it was surely a psionic blast.

After the swift and concise retaliation, the jailers continued forward until they reached an empty cell, a model of the others beside it, a good five meters wide, with two bunk beds in the back and a small table between them. The jailers stopped, faced the bars, then one drew a small disc of polished black stone from under his chest belt. He held it flat against his palm, pinched between his talons, and waved it over a square black panel centered on the bars. There was a tinny KLANK , then the metal barred door creaked open .

“Mag lock?” chipped Leta.

“Or something like it,” Abby chipped back.

Their escort raised the tip of his staff. Short bolts of electricity raced up to the tip then arced into a crackle. “Inssside,” he said. “Now!”

“All right,” said Abby. He threw his hands up in submission as he, Leta, and Soren entered the cell.

KLANK !!! The door slammed shut behind them.

“Are you sure about this?” Leta asked Abby.

“It greatly limits our options,” added Soren.

“It’ll be fine,” Abby said, but his focus had shifted. When they’d approached the cell, he’d thought the cage empty—it wasn’t. Tucked in the back corner, in the shadows of a lower bunk, a Lupo sat in meditation.

~*~