Holdfast (Part 2)

Part 2

Trice was waiting nervously in a dingy anteroom, one that definitely didn’t qualify as welcoming. It was little more than a cupboard with some seats. They were the only comforts, the rest was bare. Even the walls were left as exposed rust-covered metal.

Calder was with her, physically at least. She didn’t think he was aware of his surroundings. Neither of them had elected to sit. Trice was too tense to bother with one of the grimy chairs. Anxiety kept her moving, either walking around or rocking back and forth on her heels. She kept one eye pinned to Calder though.

He was currently sullen, a shell of lights and clockwork that was more zombie than human. Since his sister had been kidnapped, he’d flipped between listless and boiling with fury.

When his rage spiked he seemed unable to control it, and it didn't take much to bring it forth. One of the low-ranking gang members, a grinder, tried to make fun of his silence. The guy had obviously dealt with them before and was used to Calder being the talker.

Calder reacted by pinning the meathead to the nearest wall, a foot off the floor. He’d then thrown the hulking bruiser to one side like a doll. The man had flushed red with anger and was ready to retaliate, but one look at Calder had been enough to stop him. His wild eyes and snorted breaths were more like those of a rabid bull. Any sane opponent would have turned away, and the grinder knew enough to see it wasn’t an act.

It had taken gentle, soothing words to raise Calder from his initial despair at his sister’s disappearance. The approach was a little alien to Trice, who tended to motivate through fear.

Ever since, it had been like walking beside a damaged sea-mine, one that could explode at any second and which could be triggered by the smallest thing.

Calder blamed himself for Maya's abduction, rather than Trice, something she was thankful for. She’d seen the results of his anger. Keeping him from turning on her was one reason to give him hope and purpose, which was why they were standing in the tiny waiting room.

His lack of accusation didn’t stop Trice from punishing herself though. Each time she looked at him, in either state, it felt like being stabbed in the heart.

Her guilt was one reason she’d suggested they speak to the leaders of the Stonefish gang, who most people actively avoided. Technically, the gang was run by a small cadre of men, but the actual man in charge was called Carcarius White. His reputation was the sort that instilled fear.

To find Maya, they needed information about the men who had taken her. The slavers and their accomplices had killed a Stonefish enforcer during their hunt for Cordelia. While the guy they’d killed was only on the bottom rung, no gang could let people attack them without retribution, they’d lose all authority. Trice was hoping a desire for vengeance would translate into help.

If she’d misjudged their animosity, there was a good chance they’d both be killed. If Calder lost control, they'd probably both be killed. And if they couldn’t enlist Carcarius’ help then the hunt for Maya would be dead.

Trice rarely feared anyone, but right now she was nervous. Turning to look at Calder, she tried to judge his mood.

He was a shuffling husk, with his mind focused inward. She prayed he remained as catatonic throughout these discussions.

The door's metal latch screeched as it turned. A thickset heavy with bulging biceps, outlined by a tight shirt, grunted and beckoned them to follow him.

Trice grabbed Calder’s arm and towed him after her as she stepped out into the narrow passage. She was leading, despite her natural aversion to human interaction. The guilt was driving her to take the lead as Calder seemed incapable. It had been her decision to save Cordelia that day, a decision that had led to Maya being taken as a makeweight. This was her penance.