Free The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 by Tim Waggoner Page A

guarantee that Diran and others had escaped the Black Fleet raiders, but then again, there was no indication that they’d been captured either. Until she had any evidence to the contrary, she would assume they were still free.
    “Tell me, grandmother, what’s your name?” Makala asked.
    “Zabeth. I work—worked—as a fish packer in one of the prince’s own warehouses. After the fish were filleted and smoked, it was my job to pack them in salt so they would be ready to travel. I had finished my work for the evening and was on my way home when the raiders struck.” Zabeth’s voice became low and dangerous. It was nearly a growl as she said, “When I was younger, they’d never have taken me alive. I’d have clawed their stinking guts out with my bare hands!”
    Makala was taken aback by the woman’s sudden burst of anger, but then she realized—the fuzzy sideburns, the yelloweyes … Zabeth was a shifter. An elderly one, but a shifter nevertheless. Makala wasn’t all that comfortable around shifters. One never knew when the bestial aspect of their heritage would come to the fore, as witness Zabeth’s sudden outburst, but Zabeth had shown Makala kindness as she’d struggled to regain consciousness, and Makala decided to trust the elderly woman, for now, at least.
    “So how does it look?” Makala asked.
    Zabeth gave Makala a puzzled frown. “Excuse me?”
    “Our situation,” Makala said. “How many of us are there? How many raiders? Are all of us shackled hand and foot? Is there a ladder or a set of stairs that will allow us to climb out of the hold? I assume they keep the hatch locked, but then again, they might not, not if they expect these shackles to keep us from trying anything.”
    “Trying
anything?” Zabeth said. “Like what?”
    Makala couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Like an escape, for pity’s sake!”
    “Escape?” Zabeth sounded both surprised and amused. “You must be joking! That, or your brains were scrambled when the raiders hit you on the head. There’s no way we can escape. We’re chained, and from the smell of blood in the air, I can tell many of us are wounded, and many more are afraid. Even if we somehow could get out of our shackles and reach the upper deck, we have no weapons and we’re on the water, so there’s nowhere to flee. Whether you like it or not, dear, and believe me,
I
don’t, there’s little we can do until we reach whatever destination the raiders have in store for us. Perhaps then an opportunity for escape shall present itself …” Her voice grew softer. “Perhaps.”
    Makala realized that she still wasn’t thinking straight. Justbecause Zabeth was a shifter didn’t mean she was a warrior. The elderly shifter’s assessment of their situation struck Makala as right on the mark. There really
wasn’t
anything they could do right now, save perhaps rest, heal, and regain their strength while they waited for the Black Fleet to make port. Wherever they were going, since they traveled within the belly of an elemental galleon, they should get there soon enough.
    “Maybe you’re right,” Makala said. “I should rest.”
    “I’ll do the same,” Zabeth said with obvious approval. The old woman settled back against the wall of the hold, folded her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes.
    Makala did likewise, and if she hadn’t been a prisoner chained in darkness, she might’ve found the gentle vibrations in the wood she lay against soothing. Before too long Zabeth was snoring softly, but despite what she’d told Zabeth, Makala refused to sleep.
    It was as Emon always said.
When you can’t do anything else, you can still think
.
    As the raider vessel
Nightwind
glided swiftly across the Lhazaar Sea to wherever it was bound, Makala thought. She thought through different escape scenarios and their various permutations so that if and when an opportunity presented itself at last, she would be ready.
    Mostly she thought about Diran.

I don’t