Balanced on the Blades Edge #2 Deathmaker by Lindsay Buroker

escape. More than enough.
    Tolemek, the rag and jar in his hands, looked disappointed at her response, but he inclined his head and said, “Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”
    Strange. Did he actually care? Back in the jungle, she’d had the sense, just for a moment, that he had planned to let her go, or at least that he had been thinking about it. She had assumed it was her imagination, but maybe it hadn’t been. Of course, he might simply be choosing to be nice to make her more amenable to answering questions. Either way, maybe she should be nice, or at least not spiteful, so he would see her as more of a human being rather than a recalcitrant prisoner. Maybe she could make him trust her a little, enough to say... leave her unshackled the next time he left the room? Though some of the things in his laboratory made her as uneasy as a flier engine with a suspicious rattle, she wagered there were all sorts of items that might be helpful in an escape. Maybe he had some of those smoking leather balls in a box somewhere. And who knew? Maybe she could get some useful intelligence out of him, something to bring back home with her.
    Tolemek had laid the implements on the desk and taken a seat. He was stroking his goatee thoughtfully.
    “Sorry,” Cas said, “you were trying to help. I get it. I’ll ah—” she pointed to the rag, “—take your treatment. Thanks.”
    Words were one thing, but actions were another. Her body had stiffened while she sat on the floor, and she sucked in a pained breath at her first attempt to roll to her knees and stand.
    Tolemek crossed the cabin in three strides and helped her up.
    “Didn’t think I was old enough to get that stiff,” she said. She pretended to stumble—she didn’t have to do much pretending—and gave herself an opportunity to take a quick look at the lower shelves of a bookcase she had noticed earlier, one with a glass cover protecting the contents. All manner of vials hung in racks inside, and a couple looked familiar.
    Tolemek slipped an arm around her waist to help her to the chair. She straightened up, not wanting him to notice her spying, and leaned against his side. The support wasn’t unwelcome, though she probably should have pushed his arm away. One didn’t ask for support from the Deathmaker, right? But she was being nice, wasn’t she? To fool him? Just as he was trying to fool her by being a gentleman? She had barely started this new game, and her head already hurt. She was too simple for the intricacies of mind games and spy missions; she just wanted to fly and shoot things.
    “I don’t think there’s any age where beatings feel good.” Tolemek guided her into the chair, then pulled up a stool. He pushed the lamp closer to her face, and she could feel its warmth. The pirate ship wasn’t cold—they were still in the tropics, after all—but the canvas bag she was wearing left far too much arm and leg bare for her taste.
    “Probably not. Would you mind taking those spikes off your wrists before doctoring me?” She nodded toward his wrist braces—the prongs weren’t razor sharp, but they certainly had an inimical look to them. “I was a little concerned I’d get perforated during our walk across the room.”
    Tolemek unfastened them and tossed them on the desk. He had the same bronze skin as the rest of the Cofah, but that didn’t mean he didn’t tan at all, and she found herself somewhat amused by the paler three-inch bands on his wrists. The Deathmaker had tan lines. Also not mentioned in the stories that circulated.
    Cas stayed still as he dabbed her face, wiping her wounds and washing away the dried blood. It stung, but he was probably more gentle than that sawbones would have been. With his face close to hers, she had the conundrum of where to look. It seemed too personal—too intimate—to watch his eyes, but it would have been awkward to lean out to look around him. She settled for staring at the shark tooth necklace,