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Jimmy the Hand
Jimmy the Hand
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Jimmy the Hand


Part of the problem was that he still hadn’t been able to see anything in the bottle and his faith in the drunken magician wasn’t all that strong, in spite of what he’d said to Larry. He was more afraid they might fail than that they’d be caught and hanged.

‘Do it,’ he grumbled, gritting his teeth. As he’d said himself, it wasn’t as if there was anything better available.

Jimmy bit his lips and thrust his arm into the hole, aiming for a large projection he thought he could reach, but aiming blind since his arm cut off what little light filtered down from the cell above.

Dear Ruthia, he prayed, please don’t let me get this on myself. He braced his shoulders hard against the wall, quickly pulled the tiny stopper from the small vial, and tilted it away from his left hand, pressing the open mouth of the container against the mortar. He held it motionless for a long count of seconds, wondering how he was supposed to tell when the vial was empty. Finally, he assumed it had to be.

It was done, except for the waiting to see if the spell would work. He held his breath, pressed himself against the sides of the shaft walls, wondering what to expect.

He missed the first few grains of falling mortar but then a stone fell, hitting him on the thigh. It hadn’t occurred to him that there would be falling stones; then he remembered the iron grate above and hurriedly climbed back down again, some little part of him wailing in discontent. He’d have to go up again after all.

In less than a minute the heavy iron grate that had covered the shaft fell down with a crash on top of the dislodged stones and the heap of sand that had once been sturdy mortar.

Jimmy noted a cracked stone beneath it and blew out a relieved breath. Then he re-wet the rag he pulled over his mouth and nose with vinegar, rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles and began climbing again. He found a ring of faces waiting for him when he got to the top and hands reached out to pull him up. He blinked for a moment; even the twilight dimness of the big cell seemed bright, after the passageways below. Feet rustled in the damp straw that covered the floor, and he could feel more than see the inmates gathering around him.

‘Jimmy!’

That was Flora’s voice; she elbowed her way through the crush and embraced him, recoiling instantly, her eyes wide, her pretty mouth contorted into a rictus of disgust. Considering the condition of the dungeon and its inhabitants, that said a great deal.

‘I know,’ he apologized quietly. ‘Quiet, unless you want the guards here! The smell can’t be helped.’ He pulled out the bundle of rags and the vinegar. ‘This will cut the smell, but it’s the only way out we could find.’

‘I can’t get down there,’ a legless beggar said.

‘Get down where?’ asked one of the blind ones.

‘Anyone who needs help getting down we can lower them with this rope,’ Jimmy said.

He slung it off and looked around for something to anchor it to, settling on the bars of the cell. He glanced anxiously out into the dim corridor but saw no one.

Good. If the excitement caused by his arrival hadn’t brought the guards running they were probably safe. At least for now. But then, why pay attention to a dungeon with no exit?

‘Why are you doing this?’ Flora asked him in a whisper. She smiled and shook her head, clearly embarrassed for him. ‘They aren’t going to keep us in here forever, you know.’

‘No they’re not,’ Jimmy said grimly. ‘Tomorrow or the next day they’re planning to hang the lot of you girls, and the beggars get fifty lashes apiece.’

Flora stared at him in horror. ‘What for?’ she asked. ‘What are we supposed to have done?’

‘Only what you’ve always done,’ he told her. ‘It’s just they changed the law.’

She closed her mouth and her eyes grew cool. ‘Because of the Princess,’ she said.

‘Or just because del Garza’s crazy,’ Jimmy said with a grin. ‘Doesn’t matter. In a few minutes there’ll be nobody left for him to hang. Unless he wants to hang his own guards for letting you go.’

She returned his smile slowly, a wicked glint growing in her eyes.

‘Well, then. Let’s get to work, shall we?’

Once they heard the news, the other Mockers and even the few strangers pitched in eagerly. When the rope was tied firmly, Jimmy said, ‘As soon as you get to the sewers, scatter. Don’t wait around, unless you’re helping those who can’t get away alone. By the time I get down last, I want you all gone. Make your way as best you can to your flops or back to Mocker’s Rest, but be careful. Once they find you all gone, things in the city are going to get even worse for a while.’ Jimmy sent Gerald, Larry the Ear’s young brother, down first. Mostly to soothe Larry’s fears, partly to show the girls and everyone else how easy the climb was. Except for the Smell. Wisely, he didn’t dwell on that part. And once the escapees encountered it they certainly weren’t going to climb back up, although if they’d known what was facing them some of them might have preferred hanging.

Finally it was just Jimmy and Flora. He turned to her with an excited grin.

‘There’s something I want to do before I go.’ Flora looked puzzled, but nodded for him to go on. ‘Rumours are flying that del Garza put Prince Erland in the dungeon. Do you have any idea where they’d keep him?’ he asked.

‘How would I know?’

‘But he must be somewhere near here, right?’ Jimmy asked.

Crossing her arms, she stared at him for a long moment. ‘I suppose so. If the rumours said he was in the dungeons, that would be here.’ She cocked her head. ‘Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?’

He nodded eagerly, his grin growing wider, if that was possible. ‘I’m going to get him out.’

Flora’s eyes widened. ‘Are you crazy?’ she hissed, shaking her head as though trying to dislodge something. ‘I can’t even imagine what they’d do if you did that.’ Her eyes widened further. ‘The Upright Man!’ Flora covered her mouth with her hand. ‘Del Garza might not catch you, but the Upright Man certainly would!’

‘He’d probably be very pleased indeed,’ Jimmy said confidently. A lot more confidently than he actually felt. The Upright Man doesn’t confide in me, either.

She lowered her hand and licked her lips. ‘You really mean to do this, don’t you?’

‘Why not?’ he countered, his eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘What better chance will anyone have? What patriotic citizen of Krondor could pass it up?’

‘All right,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’ll help you.’

That took him aback; he hadn’t meant to convert her. ‘I can handle it,’ he said firmly. ‘No need for you to risk getting caught again.’

‘He’s supposed to be ill, Jimmy. You may need some help with him.’

She gave him a steady look until he nodded reluctantly. Then he went to work on the cell’s lock. It was tougher than he’d expected, but then, it was supposed to keep common prisoners in, not lock-crackers with a full set of picks. He worked the tumblers by feel, by the tension of the wire struts bending under his fingers, and for the first time blessed Long Charlie for all those tedious drills. Flora stood beside him, her body taut with fear, keeping an eye out for the guards. Then the last probe sprang back; there was a click sound from within the heavy lock-plate, and they both winced at the protesting squeal of the hinges.

‘Which way?’ he wondered aloud.

‘They brought us in that way,’ Flora said, nodding left down a corridor of mortared stone; what little light there was came from a round sun-well in the ceiling, no bigger than the diameter of a man’s head.

‘There were two large cells before this one, but little else. So I think we should go this way.’ She pointed to the right and then quickly moved off.

‘Better let me go first,’ Jimmy said. ‘I’ve got something I can use in case we meet anyone.’

Flora raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object.

Jimmy moved ahead of her, feeling awkward because while what he’d said was true the real reason he wanted to be first was, well …

Because I want to be first. And he suspected Flora knew it.

The corridor they followed was dark and narrow. Jimmy couldn’t imagine why it was laid out this way, unless the proposed inhabitants were supposed to be owls and cats. He thought that it actually worked to their advantage though, providing them with cover when they needed to look around a corner, to see if the way was clear. So far, there was no one here to notice them. Every cell they’d checked on their way was empty.

Which surprised him; he’d been sure del Garza was jailing anyone he felt like throwing into the dungeon. And given Jocko Radburn’s personality, Jimmy had been sure he’d find half the city behind bars. At least the official half.

He was getting impatient; they’d been walking so long it felt as if they must be all the way on the other side of the keep by now.

Then the flickering light of a torch outside a cell up ahead revealed the presence of a guard. A Bas-Tyran from his black and gold uniform and nearly asleep, even standing up and leaning on his halberd, judging from the way his helmeted head kept nodding off and then jerking up again. Sleeping standing up seemed to be one of the basic military skills.