Poor World Read Online Free PDF Page A

don’t say no.” I loathed my cowardice in adding that — but even more I hated the idea of three people being put to death on my account. Somehow I just knew this guy wasn’t bluffing.
    â€œVery smart,” he said approvingly.
    â€œThe girls — ”
    â€œThey said their decision rested on yours.”
    â€œYou mean, I could have said no for all of us — ”
    â€œAnd you didn’t know it at the time,” he finished. “Isn’t that part of leadership, deciding for others?”
    â€œNot blindly,” I managed to say.
    â€œYou weren’t. Your first choice was admittedly limited, but if you’d rather be put to death while still ignorant, then we don’t have the time to spend on you.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œYou may have the run of the compound tonight. Feel free to explore. Except do not attempt the walls.” His tone didn’t change, and I think it was the total lack of threat in his voice that made my stomach feel like it had dropped out onto the floor.
    â€œI won’t,” I said, and I added, hoping it would keep me from being followed, “and I never deliberately break promises.”
    â€œI know,” he said, showing just the faintest hint of approval — and reminding me that, even though they hadn’t managed to nose out my Earth-origins, they had apparently snouted out a wealth of other detail about my short life so far. “You’re free to go, if you like,” he added.
    What I really wanted was home — and something to eat — but getting away from him was a close enough second choice. Peeking out first to see if the featherheaded slugbrain was lurking around, I sidled out, glad to get away, even though the man really had seemed pleased. Somehow the idea of a villain being pleased with me was creepier than having one mad, even if it did seem to lessen the threat.
    Or did it?
    That’s it, I thought as I slipped out into the darkness, looking carefully in all directions. It didn’t lessen the threat.
    I didn’t stop to consider that — not that I’d have gotten very far, even if I’d been stuck back in that closet for another brace of hours. Instead, I made straight for the prison.
    The warm air smelled dry and dusty. Brilliantly clear starlight mixed its soft silver with the golden glow from the windows behind me as I trod across the street. The dirt beneath my feet was hard packed and still warm from what must have been a hot day.
    A few paces from the jail I slowed my steps, half-expecting some kind of nastiness on the part of the guards.
    Nothing.
    Ohhhh ... kay.
    My insides were broiling away as I opened the heavy iron-reinforced door and oozed inside — and I actually paused, half-expecting the lock to engage behind me.
    There were no windows anywhere except in the front two cells; the rest of the first floor seemed to be storage of some kind. A middle door led downward, beneath ground level — an honest-to-villains’-code dungeon. No glowglobes save one just above the front entrance gave any light. I stared down the steps to the dungeon, feeling the air turn cold and close, smelling of mold, and dust, and fear-sweat.
    I eased farther down the steps, then called, “Puddlenose? Christoph?”
    â€œCJ?” Puddlenose called — not sounding glad at all. “That you ?” He spoke in Mearsiean.
    â€œWhere are you?” I called, pretending I hadn’t heard the ‘oh, no’ in his voice.
    Just keep comin’.” That was Christoph. “We’ll tell you when to stop.”
    I was already out of the faint pool of light cast by that glowglobe behind me up the stairs. I inched forward what seemed forever until Christoph said, “Stop! This way — feel the door?”
    â€œIron bars?”
    â€œThat’s it. Welcome to our happy home.”
    I heard the shift of cloth behind me, and elsewhere the deep, harsh breathing of