Free Deathstalker Honor by Simon R. Green Page A

shook her head slowly, as though trying to clear out cobwebs in her thinking. “I lost my way. The tunnel was a straight line, but I . . . lost myself, alone in the dark. With the dead. And you came back for me.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered suddenly. “Feels like I’ll never be warm again. That the cold of the grave will always be with me.”
    “It’ll pass,” said Owen.
    “Of course it will,” said Hazel. “We’re more than human now, remember? No longer bound by human fears and . . . weaknesses.”
    “Hazel . . .”
    “I’m all right now. I’m fine.”
    “Of course you are,” said Owen.
    They got to their feet, helping each other. Owen quietly told Oz to close the panel in the wall, and the freezing air was shut off. The fog in the corridor slowly began to clear. Owen looked around him, searching for something he recognized. It had been a long time since he’d been . . . home.
    “Right,” said Hazel. “Which way do we go, Deathstalker?”
    “Give me a minute,” said Owen. “I’m not actually sure . . .”
    “Come on, this is your castle, your Standing . . .”
    “Well, yes, but I don’t think I actually ever came down this far. I mean, it’s a big place. Mostly I stuck to my own quarters. I certainly never bothered with the maintenance areas. I had people to do that for me.”
    “Lifestyles of the rich and useless. No wonder your own people were able to throw you out of here so easily.”
    “They didn’t throw me out! I retreated in the face of superior numbers. Perfectly sound military strategy.”
    “Yeah, sure. Look, are you saying you’re lost?”
    “Down the corridor and turn right,” Oz murmured in Owen’s ear. “That’ll lead you to Valentine’s new laboratories.”
    “Of course I’m not lost,” said Owen. “We just go down here and turn right, and that’ll take us right to Valentine’s new laboratories. Bound to be someone there you can terrorize into telling us what we need to know.”
    “You don’t appreciate me,” said Oz as Owen and Hazel set off down the corridor. “You really don’t.”
    “How did you know where Valentine’s labs are?” said Owen, subvocalizing so Hazel wouldn’t hear.
    “Educated guess,” said Oz. “There were only so many open spaces where he could have set up all the new tech he’s supposed to have here.”
    “What would I do without you, Oz?”
    “I shudder to think. Now get your ass in gear before some guards come along.”
    Owen passed that thought on to Hazel, and they increased their pace. The exertion helped to drive the last traces of cold out of their bodies. Owen began to feel almost human again. Hazel must have too, for after a while he noticed her beginning to pay more attention to their surroundings. They were worth noticing. The floor was carpeted, the rich material covered in designs so old that centuries of Deathstalker servants’ feet had mostly rubbed the details away. Tapestries and portraits and holos hung from the old stone walls, mostly detailing lesser moments in the long Deathstalker history. The greater moments and treasures were on display on the upper levels, where they could be showed off to aristocratic guests. Or they should be. Owen frowned. There was no telling what Valentine might have done with them. Owen wouldn’t have put it past Valentine to heap all the Deathstalker treasures in one great pile and then set fire to it, just for the fun of dancing around it. And for the thought of what it would do to Owen when he found out. Owen walked a little faster. It was a small anger, to add to so many others. Owen kept all his anger carefully tamped down, far enough away not to interfere with his mission, but ready to burst out free when he finally came face to face with the villain Wolfe.
    And then there would be a reckoning.
    Owen followed Oz’s murmured directions till he and Hazel came to a sudden halt, their way blocked by a door that looked distinctly out of place. It was a