The Thief King

13. Bumps in the Basement

There was a loud thunk. Sleep vanished. Peace evaporated and her heart pounded like an army of warhorses. Sera sat bolt upright in bed, her hand clutching at the empty space beside her. The sheets were cold and smooth. Again.

She stilled her ragged breathing and waited. Night's biting chill surrounded her, clawing at any exposed skin. A softer sound came again, assuring her there was somebody under the house. Not many knew of the basement. The list included two other names besides Hannah's and her own. She extricated her legs from the sheets and searched for a weapon. She was nearly at the cupboard when a louder thunk came, making her jump. Whoever was below could not see Koltin's traps set to greet intruders.

Sera found an old Peacekeeper baton at the bottom of a drawer and tiptoed to her door. She began to wonder if Hannah was awake. Should she wake her if not? On the balls of her feet, she crept forward, making sure to keep her breathing low. Her skin prickled. Every hair stood erect and soft, regular shudders wracked through her. A slow ache began in her jaw from biting down too hard and she purposefully released her clenched jaw and took a long, soft inhale.

Koltin's words rang in her head, warnings she had heard but never truly believed necessary. Koltin was always cautious. He was always vigilant. No matter. His instructions were repeating in her mind: aim for the head, groin, or neck. She lifted the baton, feeling its weight and testing her grip.

Years back Koltin had taken her to a bakery and made her swing a staff at sacks of flour for almost an hour until finally he had stood back, hands on hips, grinning from ear to ear with white smudges covering him like a cow's hide. He had grown so proud of her attempt to do more damage than she thought she could. Nonetheless, that had been a bag of flour. This was a living creature. A person. She closed her eyes and chased the doubt away with thoughts of protecting Hannah. She would swing the baton with more force than she owned for Hannah's sake.

A grunt sounded. Closer this time, muffled. She tracked the slow progress the stranger made, hearing him grunt and swear a few times. She tightened her grip. Her palms were clammy and her nerves intensified her shudders. Where was Koltin? It was not like him to spend so much time away without warning. For the first time, she wondered if he was in trouble. Perhaps his absence was not voluntary. Her breath hitched at the thought.

The basement hatch creaked as it pushed upwards. Sera stepped forward, sticking to the shadows. The fire was nothing but dying embers, giving off little light. A man's back appeared, hunched and cloaked. She waited for him to climb further into the room, wanting a bigger target. His one foot must have caught on a rung for he stumbled and swore again. Sera swung the baton behind her head. A dagger appeared in the man's hand and, as quick as a cat, he struck at the edge of his cloak and stumbled into the room.

Sera caught sight of dark hair and a familiar straight nose and released the breath she had been holding. Koltin turned, stumbled, and frowned. He noticed the baton and whistled.

"Koltin," she breathed. The baton lowered to her side. "What...you almost gave me...I was about to... "

"Knock m' out? Yeah, I see so, love."

She glowered. "Do you realise the time, Koltin Seaward? I doubt even the catacombs are awake at this hour. Mind telling me where you have been hiding these past two days?"

"Now?" he groaned. Koltin scratched at the back of his head and winced.

Sera narrowed her eyes. His speech was slow and slurred, despite his attempts to say the least amount of words as possible. "Are you drunk?"

Kole held a deep, long note.

"I will take that as a yes."

"I'd rather you not."