Unspeakable, Part 11

When he woke, Miles was suddenly terrified that he would find Shylock dead beside him, gone silently while he’d slept. For a moment he couldn’t bear to open his eyes, and face that.

But he managed it, peering with one eye, and only daring to open the other when he was sure Shylock’s chest was still moving up and down. Then he took a very careful look.

Shylock was still very pale. Miles hated the look of his bared body, the ugliness of the bright red handprints. His face was haggard and drawn. But he was alive.

Miles debated whether or not to try and wake him. He needed as much rest as he could get, sure. But what if he was in a coma? Although, could Miles make any difference if he were?

In the end, Miles shifted closer to him. If nothing else, he could keep him warm. If only they had blankets. Or a real doctor. Miles would love a contact at Central Control. For many reasons.

The attack itself was concerning. Miles had hated the dungeons before, but now he really wanted out. What the hell was down here with them? Or below them? Did the Academy council know?

He watched Shylock breathe for a minute. He had to get Shylock out. The others, too, but definitely Shylock. The poor kid couldn’t survive another attack like that. But how?

One thing was sure. A plan had to be made. A coping mechanism, for now, to keep those things at bay, but also a solid plan to escape the dungeons for good. And possibly, to get revenge on the Academy who had put them down here. He hadn’t decided yet.

Shylock murmured fretfully in his sleep. I’m here, Miles whispered. Quiet, now. Shylock sighed and stirred. Miles? he murmured. Yeah, Miles answered. It’s okay.

He opened his eyes and looked at Miles. How you feeling? Miles asked. It hurts, Shylock admitted after a moment. You’re still here, he added.

Why do you keep saying that, kid? Miles said. Of course I’m here. Shylock’s eyes were troubled. Well, I-I’m not going to make it, am I? he said softly.

Who told you that? Miles said sharply. Of course you’re going to make it. Shylock’s lips trembled. Well, I- I don’t… Miles put his hand on Shylock’s face. Listen close to me, kid.

Shylock stilled and met his eyes. You are going to live, Miles said firmly. How can you be sure? Shylock whispered. Because I’m going to make it happen, Miles said, if it’s the last thing I do.

He didn’t feel like crying at the moment so he cleared his throat and shifted away a little distance. Now, you just-- just stay there. And take it easy. I’m going to look after you.

He started to get up, and Shylock moved to help him. What did I just say? Miles snapped. Down, damn it. Shylock looked at him with big eyes and lay slowly back down.

Miles somehow managed to make it into the chair, and from that position he could more easily remove his old, old shirt. Then he leaned over to give it to Shylock.

Shylock looked at him floored. What? Why? You can’t-- Miles waved a hand impatiently. Because I can’t let you lie there half-naked on the brink of death, that’s why.

Shylock still shook his head, and Miles snapped just do what I say, damn it, go on. I’ll be fine. With great reluctance Shylock was maneuvered into the shirt. It was big on him.

Now shirtless, he rolled himself into the doorway and looked out. The others were gathered, tense, around Connie’s hammock, eyeing the door from which the invasion had come.

We need to talk, Miles said in a low voice. He glanced once more at Shylock, and beckoned them over. Ivan kept a wary eye on the doorway, but helped Sequoia shift Connie so she could hear.

How’s Shylock? Sally asked, her arms crossed tightly over her body. He’s okay, Miles said. He’ll be better if we can get him out of here.

Behind her hair, Sequoia’s eyes widened. Out of here? Are you crazy? Ivan glanced over at them. The dungeon is sealed, he said in a resigned voice.

There’s got to be something we can do, Miles said, We’ll find a way. We can’t stay down here with - whatever that was, he said, gesturing to the doorway.

Even if the we could get out, Mander said, anyone who saw us up in the Academy would put us right back down here again. Miles cursed, knowing he was right.

What we need, he said, drumming his fingers thoughtfully, is an advocate. Someone up there pulling for us. Connie gave a short laugh. Keep dreaming. No one even admits we’re here.

All right, you’re right. Miles conceded grumpily. But Sally caught his eye. But, he said slowly, we still need better supplies. And it wouldn’t hurt to know what’s going on up there.

Sally realized he was looking at her. What we need, he said, is a scout. Sally’s eyes widened.

Come in here, he said, I’ve got an idea. He struggled backwards and led them through his room, and into Shylock’s former cell. Connie sighed and craned her neck trying to see.

Look, he said, pointing at the chute in the corner of the ceiling. That goes somewhere. If they can dump stuff down, we should be able to send something up. He glanced at Sally. Or someone.

Through there? Sequoia said disbelievingly. We don’t even know where it goes.

No, Miles said, but things don’t come down it very often. The rubbish heap, the dungeon door, sure. They’d be watched. But not this measly thing. He looked at the grey square of light. It’s our best shot. Sally took a breath and stepped forward, peering at it.

I can fit through there, she said after a moment, determination in her tone. Miles’ hopes rose, and he glanced at Shylock, watching from the slab and looking weak. There was no time to lose.

Okay, then it’s just your hair, he said. Sally turned back to look at him, startled. My hair? She touched it. What do you mean?

We’re not cutting it off or anything, he assured her. All I mean is, is there a way to … dim it or something?

He’s right, Sequoia said suddenly. You’ll stick out.

I’ll check the rubbish heap, Ivan said, and went out. He came back with a bowl of mud and some cloth. Sequoia put her big hands to work helping spread the muck through Sally’s hair until all the green was concealed. Mander and Ivan tore up the cloth.

Connie was beckoning to Miles, and he wheeled over. Do you really think this’ll work? she asked in a low voice. It has to, Miles said. They both looked at Shylock.

You’re a good leader, she observed after a moment. Miles was startled, never having been called that before. But when they looked at the others all working together, it seemed to fit.

Whatever I am, he said at last, I’m going to save us, all of us. Or die trying. Connie kicked her feet and smiled. Well, you can count on me, boss. You say the word, these hit the floor.

He looked at her pretty feet. I almost hope it comes to that. She laughed out loud.  No you don’t.

What do you think? They looked at Sally and almost didn’t recognize her. With her hair blacked out and tied back, a band of cloth over her forehead, she was just an ordinary girl.

Perfect, Miles said, wheeling back over to her. You’re just another kid coming from training or labor or whatever. You belong up there. Try and look disgruntled.

Sally dropped her mouth into a scowl. Still too much magic, Miles said. Her face brightened into its pixie grin. Aw, thanks. Miles shook his head. Focus. Blankness, dirt, and fatigue.

Sally nodded and soon she had almost lost herself entirely. So what’s the plan? She said. What am I looking for?

Medical, Miles said. Provisions. Anything. We  need resources. Ideally, a way out. See if there’s gaps in protocol. Also weapons. If those things come back we’ll need them.

Sally had been headed for the chute but paused at that. She looked at Mander, at Connie, Ivan and Sequoia, and her eyes stopped at Shylock. Will you guys be okay? She asked.

Don’t dwell on that, Miles said, waving a hand. This is just a preliminary trip, a scouting mission to see what’s up there and what our options are. You’ll be back before anything happens.

Sally nodded. She tried not to think they were all counting on her, and approached the corner. She flexed her hands and feet and reached.. Before she could change her mind, she was climbing.