Maren Goldweaver's Arc

Chapter 16 of 42

The guard's fist stayed knotted in Maren's braids. The young man who had called himself the informant stepped closer and pulled Maren's coat open. The cub blinked up at him, small and warm against her ribs. He smiled like he had found a coin in the dirt. "Kazuki will want to see this himself," he said. He lifted the cub out of her coat. The cub squirmed. Maren lunged and the guard yanked her back by the hair. "Don't," she said. "Please. It's just an animal." "Then you won't miss it." A door opened at the stern. The man who came through wore a captain's coat and a scar that ran from brow to cheekbone. He looked at Kato on the boards and his mouth tightened, then went flat again. Kato lifted his head. "Kazuki," Kato said. Kazuki did not answer his brother. He held out a gloved hand. The informant placed the cub in it. From his belt Kazuki drew a slim glass tube with a needle at one end. He pressed the needle into the cub's neck. The cub jerked once, then went soft. Its wings folded against its side. Its eyes stayed open and empty. Maren made a sound she did not recognize. "Alive," Kazuki said. "For now. That depends on you." He passed the cub to a guard. "Cage it. Below." Then he pointed at Gisela and at his brother. "Those two, aft hold." He pointed at Maren and Miller. "Those two, with me." Gisela twisted against her ropes. "Maren—" "Walk," a guard said, and shoved her. They took Maren and Miller down a narrow stair. The room at the bottom had a table bolted to the deck. Hooks lined one wall. Pliers, a saw, a cluster of thin blades hung in order of size. A huge man in a leather apron waited by the table. He did not look up when they entered. He tied Maren to a post and left Miller standing where he could see her. Then he chose a small knife from the wall. He pressed the flat of the blade to Maren's cheek. Miller made a strangled sound in his throat. "The file," the big man said. "And what the animal does. Tell him, or she bleeds." Miller's jaw worked. He said nothing. The knife slid down to the opening of Maren's shirt and settled there. The big man pushed. The tip broke skin. A bead of blood welled and ran. "Stop," Miller said. The big man did not stop. He pushed again. Maren bit her tongue and did not cry out. She stared at Miller and shook her head once, small. Miller's shoulders dropped. "The file is sewn in the lining of her coat," he said. "The cub heals. That's all I know." The big man wiped the knife on Maren's sleeve and left the room to fetch the coat. Eir was gone. The file was gone. And Miller would not look at her.