Page 11 of Caged By the Ruthless Thief

I open my eyes, barely.

“He’s awake,” another guard says.

I wasn’t asleep. I trail my narrowed eyes over the male. He’s nervous. Sweat droplets gather on his nose, and it’s not hot in here. I’m still, and he bends, unlocking the short chain.

“Get up,” he says with a wisp of fear.

I lift my head, half a smirk on my lips, my eyes still narrowed to the light. I leave them that way, protecting them from the bright light of the interior of the vehicle.

“Get up,” he repeats.

I move from lying on the floor to kneeling, then standing. I tower over him. A third guard takes a wide berth and rounds behind me. Before he removes the cuffs from my ankles, the second guard moves to my front. It’s Pappas from my crew. I blink. No, not Pappas, but the resemblance is strong.

“Hands,” he commands.

I lift my arms away from my back. He unlocks one wrist and then the other. The cuffs removed, I’m left with the stiffness, accompanied by the pins and needles of the Arg-leth racing through my body. When he takes the shackles away, he slides something into my hand. His eyes are wide. It’s cold and sharp. A knife. Fuck, I want to keep it. This has to be a relative of Pappas, but I can’t tell for sure.

If it’s found out I’ve cheated, my escape will be for naught. I can’t do that to Annabelle. I grit my molars. She’s not in the city. She’ll never know one way or another whether I live or die. But I can’t do that to Holter, or my fathers. Disgrace Glyden. “I’m good.” I incline my head and push the metal back into his hand.

He’s shocked but palms the small knife back into his tunic. His back is to the government administrator, who glares at me. A judge stands next to him. I didn’t know they were here. But it doesn’t surprise me.

“Are the shackles free?” The judge hasn’t moved any closer. It’s infuriating. If I’d wanted to kill him, I could have done it twenty different ways back in his courtroom.

“Yes,” Pappas’s relative says.

“Good, stay close. The condemned can be so needy.”

“Yes, sir.” He makes eyes at me. I have the feeling if I tried to mutiny thisomada,he’d be with me.

The administrator yanks a tablet out of his tunic pocket with a flourish. There is no way I’m dying now. I won’t have this codfish being one of the last faces I see. He glares at Other-Pappas.

“Are you ready?” Other-Pappas asks in a low tone.

“Yes.” I watched this a few times, back in school. While Dorians aren’t obsessed with watching videos, like a lot of other cultures, a good public execution brings the city to a halt. It’s only in recent years that they stopped allowing the public to come to the trench to watch in person.

The judge straightens his gray and white Seolfor robe.

“Nikolaos Portsmouth. I sentence you to the chasm.” The monologue goes on, and my old self would want to lunge at him. Now I know that’s not the problem. He’s not the problem; the system behind him is. He drones on and on. “Retrieve the trident at the bottom of the chasm and you may return to the Veiled City, your crimes exonerated. May Poseidon be at your side.” But I sense a bit of sarcasm when he reads the last sentence. He was the one who voted for execution, and no one will ever convince me otherwise.

Other-Pappas’s face scrunches up in a snarl, like he’s presenting in a play and needs to be seen in the back of the gallery.

The judge glares at me. This part will be hard for him. “Do you have any parting words before you attempt to retrieve the trident?”

“Yes.” I turn away from him, to where I know one of the hidden cameras is. “Citizens of the Veiled City. We have gone on too long living in fear. Change is what will keep us from dying. Our scientists have said for a long time that mating with humans is the answer for our future, that there are females with the right DNA who can change into mermaids. And they are right. My mate is proof. But she’s too good for us. Too good for a culture that treats its people the way we do. I don’t regret what I did. But I do regret how I did it. With my death, Annabelle Portsmouth is free of me. She is free of our people. But that doesn’t mean that change shouldn’t happen, that we shouldn’t continue to fight for a new beginning.” I give a nod to the administrator next to the judge.

“You may step into the airlock,” a guard says.

I protect my eyes, closing them to the white light as I step into the back of the vehicle.

The back of theomadahas an airlock big enough for four males. I’ll be the only one using it. These guards will stay with the administrator and judge. From what I’ve seen of previous releases, there will be three or four guards outside the transport.

The interior door of the airlock eases shut and rattles, shaking the entireomadawhen it slams into place. I yank my simple pants off but leave my shirt on. I have some ideas that I might use it as a weapon. Rocks, cloth—I’ll take anything I’m given legally and use it to my advantage. The knife from Pappas’s relative might have been a test. Or simply a grateful relative. But I don’t need it. I want it, but I’m glad I still had my wits about me enough to turn it down.

Water fills in slowly, pooling at my ankles. Each minute, the ocean trickles into theomada. It feels like ten minutes before it hits my calves. I might die from boredom before the chasm gets me. I ignore the throbbing pain in my arms and resist rubbing my wrists where the Arg-leth left a mark. The poison is concentrated under my skin, and massaging it around will only deliver it to my bloodstream faster. Something I don’t need.

The water is up to my waist now. The government airlock is painfully slow. Slow like everything else the government does. Something I will change when I have the trident in my hand. I picture myself with the handle gripped tightly in my palm, swimming back to the Veiled City. I will have this. I will do this.

The water hits my chest, and I don’t wait for it to get any higher. I duck down and shift. There’s a release button on the side, one they won’t have thought to turn off. I hit it, and I’m off. The guards on either side of me startle as I race past them into the darkness. The faster I go, the faster I can return.

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