Page 23 of Triplets for the Barbarians

My blood runs cold as I try to think of a way out. Yossul and Fadai are just as pale, but they keep their cool and nod in agreement.

“General Shaytan Hull is here,” Fadai manages. “What fortune.”

“Yes,” the receptionist says. “The black uniforms will take you to the holding cells. We need to keep this one nice and snug for the general.”

“Lead the way,” Yossul says to one of the newly arrived guards.

They’re part of Hull’s personal detail, only they wear the black leather tunics with gold-threaded tresses on their broad shoulders. They’re the biggest and meanest fuckers around, too. I’ve had my run-ins with their kind over the years—more than once, I almost got my ass handed to me.

The problem we’re suddenly faced with, however, is that Shaytan Hull knows what the Kreek brothers look like. He’s seen them in battle. He might recognize them, and so might some of these fellas, though none of those present seem familiar. They could be from another battalion or be fresh blood since we did wipe out half of Hull’s personal guard about six months ago during one of our Ruby City missions.

Oh, God, this doesn’t feel right. We didn’t plan for this. It was supposed to be dangerous and risky, sure, but not at such a potentially deadly level. If Hull recognizes Yossul and Fadai, we’re fucked and then some. All will be lost.

I give Yossul a terrified look as he and his brother continue playing their parts. They flank me and follow the black guards down a narrow, dark corridor leading to the underground level. My breath feels heavy and ragged as we pass by the first few cells—they’re holding dissidents here, from what I can tell. These people look tired and weak. They’ve probably been down here for weeks, months, or even years. Their clothes are tattered, their eyes reduced to slits against the dim lighting mounted in the hallway. Damn, I don’t want to end up like them. My heart is the size of a flea, beating faster and harder as I analyze every single detail around me, down to the very shape of the keyholes. I’ve got a bobby pin that can handle most of them, but what if—

“The general is in a meeting,” one of the black guards says as we stop in front of an empty cell, then slides the door open. “The Kreek whore can stay here until then.”

“Let go of me!” I snap and try to get out of Fadai’s hold once more. I don’t have to work extra hard to pretend I’m scared. I am fucking scared. “I’m not going in there!”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re done for,” Yossul replies and tosses me in.

I land on my belly with a painful thud, my wrists still bound. “Motherf…” I roll over and gather myself into a seated position, the cold stone floor sending shivers up my spine. “You’re not going to win this war!”

“We already have,” Fadai shoots back as the guard locks me in.

“Where will we be staying?” Yossul asks.

“You’ll have a guest room at the Blackstone Inn,” the guard replies. “The command center will pay for it. You deserve high-quality accommodations for this impressive feat. We can’t have you sharing the local soldiers’ barracks. They’re mindless goons and contemptuous oafs.”

“Ah, I take it you fellas aren’t from around here,” Yossul chuckles.

The guard shakes his head. “We’re General Hull’s touring guards. We follow him outside of Ruby City wherever he goes.”

“And you don’t like the guys here?”

“No one likes them,” the guard says. “This place is mayhem. You must’ve spotted the smoke coming out of the eastern blocks.”

“We did, yes,” Fadai replies.

“There’s a gang of troublemakers there, and they've been at it for months, and the soldiers of Pearl City have yet to quell that rebellion. It’s embarrassing. We’ll be going out tomorrow to put an end to that nonsense. We're doing our job for them.”

So, the Pearl City soldiers are as disillusioned and as disinterested as the ones we saw in Diamond City. Without a firm hand, it’s only a matter of time before this place becomes a desolate hellscape as well. I don’t think the black uniforms are meant to be here on a long-term basis.

Sure, they’ll fix a skirmish across town while they’re stationed in the area, but what will happen once they’re gone? Another power-hungry warlord, another sociopath with delusions of grandeur, will try to take over. More of the city will burn down, more innocent people will die, and for what?

It makes me sick to my stomach that the Sunnaites have allowed this nonsense to carry on for so long. I’ve come to genuinely appreciate the creed of the Fire Tribe. I don’t regret fighting for them, fighting with them. At least they’re striving toward peace. We’ve had Sapphire City for a few years, and that place is only getting better. There is peace and even the promise of prosperity behind its blue walls. Opal City follows a similar pattern, and they’re doing all right.

In the meantime, the rest of Sunna is a fucking hot mess. And I’m smack in the middle of it.

“Let us know if you need any help,” Yossul tells the guard. “We’re not used to sitting back and relaxing, not since we’ve been tasked with catching this bitch.”

“You caught her,” the guard says. “Come on, let’s get you to the inn. You both stink.”

They laugh, and I could puke. I don’t like the idea of being here while Shaytan Hull is in the area, but I ran out of alternative options the minute I insisted on being a part of this mission. I dare not admit to regretting my decision.

“Attention!” another black guard shouts from the end of the hallway. “Lieutenant Pyrin is coming.”

“Oh, no,” I mumble, horror quickly grabbing me by the throat as I scramble backward until I hit the farthest, darkest corner of my cell. “No, no, no.”

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