Jimmy the Hand by Raymond E. Feist, S. M. Stirling Page A

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