Page 103 of Daemon Master

His eyes shot open, and he scrambled into a sitting position facing the concerned watcher. The manacles made the movement awkward, though he did his best to disguise it by leaning back on his arms for support. At least, the chain between the manacles offered a good amount of give. Pulled taut across his back, he could almost hold his arms normally at his sides.

“I’m good,” he said quickly, hoping to draw attention from his bound limbs. “Those spirit-cursed traitors just got the drop on me.”

The watcher grimaced. “On all of us. Spirits only know how they pulled it off.”

Another of the watchers stepped closer, shaking her head. “I heard the captain tried to convince that seeker to take more precautions. But did he listen?”

Adrian stood while they spoke, aware of Freya and Seymour doing the same nearby. He didn’t dare look at them for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat bone-dry, but since no one had sounded an alarm yet, he assumed his illusions were holding. Now that they’d confirmed their comrades weren’t seriously injured, the guards were too concerned by the escaped prisoners to give them more than disinterested glances.

“Of course not,” the first watcher snorted. “Those corporate types are all the same. They know how to delegate, but stick them on the frontline, and they’re helpless. They’ve never had to face down a stampede of daemons, nor watch their allies bleed out in their arms.”

Adrian shivered at the image of his parents lying wounded in a field. Alone…and abandoned if he believed Jasper. Fortunately, no one noticed his visceral reaction beneath his illusory armor.

“True,” Seymour said amicably, his sudden speech making Adrian jump. “And of course, when things go wrong, it falls tousto pick up the pieces.” He nodded at Adrian and Freya. “We’ll watch over the daemons if you want to join the search. If the traitors escape, it’ll beourheads on the chopping block, not the seeker’s.”

The two watchers glanced at each other. Though Adrian couldn’t see much of their faces beneath their helmets, they seemed to be considering the idea. Thank the spirits for Seymour. As a former watcher himself, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Another voice interjected before the watchers could make up their minds, this one from a guard near the daemon cages. He’d removed his helmet at some point and was staring at Seymour with an intensity that set Adrian on edge.

He’s the one who threatened us during the walk here,Adrian realized, stomach sinking.

“I think it best we remain at our posts,” the suspicious watcher said, his voice brusque.

Seymour shrugged as if it was of no consequence. “Suit yourselves. The more the merrier.”

The two closer watchers shared a look while the man by the cages narrowed his eyes at Seymour. “What’s your name, anyway? Your voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Hayward,” Seymour replied without hesitation. “Part of Seeker Jasper’s escort.” He nodded again to Adrian and Freya. “All three of us are.”

“Thethreeof you? You don’t say…” The watcher’s voice took on a dangerous tone.

The first watcher who’d come to check on Adrian glanced back at his companion. “Hey, ease off, Garrick. They were just attacked. Give them a chance to get their wits about them.”

Garrick didn’t respond. Adrian struggled to think of a way to deflect his interest. He was out of prepared tricks, however—all except one, and that last aetherforging wouldn’t do him much good with his hands bound behind his back.

“Apologies,” Garrick said, sounding anything but contrite. He crossed his arms over his breastplate. “Perhaps you should take off those helmets, then. So we can check you over.”

The other watcher near them shook her head. “Spirits below, you think the prisoners slipped on full sets of watcher plate in the few seconds we lost sight of them? Mighty impressive.”

The first watcher snorted a laugh. “Especially since wesawthem run down the passage.”

Garrick flushed. “It could have been a trick,” he insisted. “Spirits know how they managed that diversion in the first place. They could be capable of anything.”

“This is absurd!” Adrian sputtered, hoping his mock outrage would cover up the faint tremble in his voice. “I will not stand here and allow you to treat me like a criminal!”

Garrick’s eyes flashed. “Why? Afraid of what I’ll find out?”

Adrian glanced at the other watchers, hoping they’d back him up, but they only shuffled their feet. Either they’d resigned themselves to Garrick’s questioning…or had begun to believe him.

“It’s all right, Kramer,” Seymour said to Adrian. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”

Seymour stepped toward Garrick, who fixed suspicious eyes on his illusory faceplate. Adrian prayed his friend knew what he was doing. TheMirror Imagescouldn’t be altered once they’d been stored, so the only way to remove the fake helmet would be to cancel the entire technique.

Seymour halted mid-step, and Adrian’s gut clenched. What had happened? Had the watcher realized he’d made a mistake? Was hisMirror Imagealready fading?

Then, a familiar deafening howl reverberated through the corridor, amplified by the tight confines. Adrian flinched and instinctively moved to cover his ears before remembering his shackled arms. Garrick and the other three watchers shouted in alarm, staggering as their muscles seized up. However, it quickly became clear they hadn’t been the intended targets.

The manacles binding Adrian’s hands rattled, something in the metal mechanisms giving out. They loosened around his wrists, and he hurriedly shucked them off. He turned to see Seymour and Freya doing the same. It seemed that Seymour and Tremorfist’s practice with more concentrated bursts back at the Enclave had paid off. Yet, something wasn’t adding up. His gaze flicked to Tremorfist, but the daemon remained pacified within his cage. How then…