Chapter 36
J A N E
I t's hard to get out of bed that following day.
I could hardly focus all night. Anya’s raw emotions, mixed with a body that was broken and needed to be cleaned, made me feel like every breath I took was her taking the same one, but somewhere else. Somewhere darker.
I don’t know what they’re doing to her, but whatever I do next, has to be effective. If they catch me… Jesper’s threat …
Sitting up, I stretch before rising to my feet, grabbing the sharp pebble from underneath my pillow that I found on the first day, making another notch next to the hearth, the warmth of it soothing me.
Seven.
I’ve officially spent seven nights here.
Seven nights of a bed, a hearth, and regular food, while many suffer in the bowels of this castle.
How does someone like me reach them and break through those iron bars? Melona said they just needed time to make it out. So I not only have to break them free, but also distract Misery .Or, well, I’m not sure about that. I haven’t seen as much as his shadow since being here.
What if he’s more incapacitated than they let on?
Time is running out, and I can start to feel my body losing weight, running my hands along the bony parts. I’m either too nauseous to eat, or too guilty. For a long time, I was just dropping bits and pieces of food out the window or burning the rest while consuming only the bare minimum: some bread here, a piece of fruit there.
This morning will be different.
I can’t help anyone if my energy is shot because I haven’t eaten properly in over a week. And after seeing Anya, it’s clear I’m not a prisoner here. Not with the niceties of this room. Not with my clean hair.
That’s leverage .
They need me.
When food slips through the flap at the bottom of my door, I stare at the eggs, some bread, and porridge, consuming what I can. Which, of course, makes me nauseous as the food stretches a starved stomach.
I sit by the door as I wait for someone to take the remainder of what I couldn’t finish, only saving the bread in case I get hungry later. When there’s the faint sound of feet climbing in a rhythmic tap up the stairs, my heart races with anticipation. The stepping stops, and then the flap pushes open?—
“I have a request.”
The hand that was reaching out pauses—small, dainty, and very clean; perhaps shaking slightly as if startled. Then I hear, “Uh, yes. I can ask for you. What is it?”
“I’d like to go back down to the main floor of the castle. There was a room that faced the ocean, and had a piano inside,” I say, recalling the layout as Jesper boldly walked me through. “I’d like to go there. If Jesper is willing to let me visit that room, I’ll be willing to have a real conversation with him. Hear him out on what he wants, and answer his questions with the truth.”
I have a feeling he’ll take that bait, but probably only once.
I’m uncomfortably aware that there’s no room for error.
Waiting for Jesper’s response is both exhausting and relieving; I can slightly relax, even if for a moment, knowing there’s nothing else I can do while I wait, and that I’ve simultaneously taken action. So, I stare out the window, eyeing what my true target is with a calmer mind.
Placing my fingers on the stoney windowsill, I peek through and look down at the space I’ve stared at for countless hours, sometimes just watching the waves, memorizing every aspect of the castle I can see. I spot the large balcony, way down below, the one that faces outward to the ocean.To the right is the roof of what looks like the staircase we descended, the stone going into the soil. I remember those windows, which aligned with the view I saw when glancing out of them.
There .
That’s my way in.
Well, this would sure fuck a lot of things up, wouldn’t it? And if what I have planned works… I can save Anya, too. I don’t know how this causes the metaphorical hole that Cypress wanted in all of this, but even Melona senses some of that potential. It’s possible that with just the right nudge , a series of actions will cascade that are nearly unstoppable, and with a weakened Misery, there’s hope .
I’ve been racking my brain for how it all connects; is it because the daughter named Moriganna can demand her mother to come? I don’t even know why the sirens are being kept here—or how Tempest has a daughter that’s a siren —but are they being used for something in particular? He mentioned their blood… Does that mean freeing them might create a massive dent in whatever is being planned? Like flooding the crops of a farmer about to reap what he sowed?
If I can create an opening to grievously wound the rest, and if people are coming for me…
One step at a time.
I squint, wishing I had a telescope to look closer. Right next to the main balcony is a much smaller one, and that’s directly adjacent to a tower that seems to go right into the ground… I don’t know why the piano room stood out so much in my mind, but there were other doors directly after it, right before descending.
If I can somehow gain access to that piano room, maybe I can access that smaller balcony and break into whatever room it connects to. I could possibly get near the stairwell and access the sirens without anyone noticing, especially if I can somehow be in that piano room with the door shut.
Anya’s story of being alone with Amy’s killer for hours before anyone noticed has stuck to my mind like sand to wet skin. If I can get into that piano room, alone with Jesper…
I need to visit it to plan anything further, though. I know better than to make plans on something I don’t have eyes on, and given I’ve already seen that space, and can observe it from here, this is my best bet with the limited timeframe I’m allotted.
Pacing the room as I wait, I finally stop to sit at the edge of my bed, where Anya had been. I can’t burn any more energy. I have a purpose now, and people are relying on me. Melona is. Tempest’s daughter, too. Anya, as well.
When more footsteps precede someone entering the room, I’m immediately on my feet and stare up at the unforgiving eyes of Jesper when the door opens. “You want to go to a room with a piano?” he asks, although it’s more like a statement from someone who is annoyed.
“Since Misery cannot read me, I know you’re just going off my word.” I stand straighter, hoping to convey sincerity. “You were right about my bravado.” When his eyes glint with something that conveys intrigue, I hone in on it. “But I mean it when I say I am numb to this world, whether for better or for worse. And no. I don’t know how to process the life I’m in right now. But I do know that I’m willing to work with you if it means more freedom for me and, more importantly, to protect those I care about. I don’t want anyone else threatened on my behalf anymore.”
I’ll play him like he wishes he could play me.
He takes a few steps closer, no longer wearing any vests; his black, silk tunic makes it seem like he came up here rather quickly. Eager . “Blackwell tells me that he didn’t trust you.”
“Of course he shouldn’t have. I had just been abducted, and taken to a place I was certain would kill me.”
“There’s no difference here.”
I nearly snort at his admission that he knows what they’re doing with me isn’t an act of service . “Well, I beg to differ,” I say, trying my best to transition my thought process. “There wasn’t a god involved before. I—” I allow a pause, trying to sound broken. “I don’t think I’m escaping this time, and I am not letting someone get hurt, abused, or murdered on my watch ever again. If that means working with you, then… I can at least try .”
I can see his eyes gyrate like he’s contemplating everything. “You cannot be okay with us taking you.”
“Then what was your plan?” What do I say? “Please. I just need out of here, for a moment… I’ll talk more, I promise. I need out of this damn space.”
My desperation seems to tempt him into believing me more.
“And go where?” he asks, still examining me as if I may reveal how this is a trap, even in the smallest way.
“Let me go into the piano room, once a day. That’s all I ask. I understand I can’t leave the castle. But that room would be nice.”
I don’t plan to endure being here long enough for that to matter, but a feeling of victory steals my heart when he seems to believe me. “The piano room?”
“My mother played,” I lie, and hope somewhere she understands I am using her to survive. “And I’d like to be relatively alone. At least, no more than one person in there with me.”
He stiffens. “Why the limitation?”
I look at his sharp features, to the eyes that remind me slightly of someone who might be taken advantage of in Skull’s Row; he’s smart, but not cunning. “I know I can’t be by myself . I just… I don’t want an audience, either.”
I swear something in his gaze suggests he’s intrigued. ‘I’m interested in the Cinder that Morvock needs…’ He’s so arrogant he wants to be the one to make me bend.
So I’ll dangle that in his face.
Jesper closes in the space between us, this whole encounter disgusting me. And I nearly show it. But at the last moment, I maintain my indifference as he reaches out to touch my hair, almost as if it’s his to touch.
That’s it. That’s what he wants. He wants to be the savior that tamed the Scorpion’s daughter.
Little does he know that title already belongs to another.
Soren… his pale gaze pierces my memory. Gods, no one will ever hold a flame to that man in my mind.
I can’t refrain from the way my body stiffens, especially when thinking about where my heart truly belongs, but I let Jesper touch my hair as he wants. He twirls a strand of it before dropping his hand back to his side, his head rising up to further look down on me.
“There will be many outside the room.”
“Understandable.”
I focus on the relief it gives me, acting as if he’s just granted me a lifeline, because in a way, he has. Lean into that.
“It will be at night.”
“That’s fine with me.”
“You’re plotting something,” he adds, as if to rub in that he’s more intelligent than me. That he will be harder to trick than this.
After being with Soren, though, I’ve learned that somebody doesn’t need to state every time they don’t believe you. They just let you dig that hole because they're truly confident.
Jesper’s confidence is built on sand.
“Yeah, I mean, in a way, I am plotting something. I’m trying to understand where my life is going, and I need a moment of clarity , which I cannot get in here .” I let the emotion break out from watching Anya, digging deep into what that made me feel. “I… I have been wrestling with this since the sirens… since Anya. I can’t do it. I just can’t watch someone suffer for me. Which means I need to at least try here. Accept that…” I trail off, hoping he believes me. “That for my life, people can’t be close to me. They just can’t. Which means I either live out these days in misery, or try to enjoy them… even if only a little.”
His eyes flare with pride, like a hunter who is thrilled his trap has worked, as I hoped it would. I hoped he would think he’s won by showing me all the prisoners they keep, so he can stop threatening them.
His ego will be the jugular I strike.
“I’ll take you down there. Any misbehavior and you will be immediately returned. Anything more severe, and your friend will be tortured, as I already stated.”
“Okay.” Misery… what of him? “Will, um, Morvock , be present?”
The suspicion in his eyes nearly makes me hold up my hands to show I’m not meaning anything by it. “Is his absence needed for your scheming?”
A natural, genuine rise of my lips reveals a real smile, something only appearing because it’s funny to me how little he knows of what I’m capable of. Of what I intend to do.
But… he takes that as, flirting ? Almost returning the playful look… Oh, fuck no— stop . Let him think it’s that. He has no idea the inferno he is toying with right now.
“I was just wondering… I’m not used to a god being in a room. If he is, I just need to compose myself. It’s… intimidating.”
His eyebrow perks as if his ego can’t help but strut itself. “You get used to it. At least, I have.” He looks me over, like some part of him recognizes he should be more careful, but he seems to be weak to this. Not to me , but the idea of this, like he thinks so little of my capabilities that it’s worth it for him to risk. “I will return once the sun is down.”
“Thank you,” I say with as much sincerity as possible.
As he leaves, his gaze trails me once more, as if asserting he can because we both know I can’t tell him not to.
When the door is shut, I place a hand on my stomach, nauseous from the insinuations of what would happen to me if I failed this. Of how that man will force himself on me once Misery tells him to.
Okay… it’s okay.
What’s my plan, then?
I don’t fucking know, really. I just know when in the streets, I’d always survey the area before attacking, and that’s the only area of this castle I know will get me below into those tunnels. Simultaneously, if it allows Jesper to open up and trust me to any degree, then even better . I need to know what I’m working with when it concerns him, and he clearly is very suspicious of my behavior. Will I have to sedate the madman with my healing powers while in there? I can do that. There’s no way he sees that coming.
Just like Soren, I can only use it once. If Jesper can be rendered unconscious, I just need a solid hour head start.
It’s actually genius to have him in there. He’s the authority, next to Blackwell and Misery. People will just assume we’re in there, having alone time.Just like Anya did when avenging Amy.
No one will bother to come in. At least, by the time they get suspicious, the sirens should be freed.
And so will Anya.
That’s all that matters. I don’t intend to escape what I am about to do. Misery can’t kill me, so that means I won’t die. And Jesper can’t ‘accost’ me, at least not right now, and that’s the only thing that might actually break me.
I can take a beating.
I can handle pain.
My heart races.
And like Melona said, I trust that the others are coming.
A shallow knock comes to my door, Marissa returning with new clothes for me to wear, and some cloth to wipe myself down with, and even some oils to make me smell better.
I stare at the glass vial that smells like evergreens. Out of everything, this is the ultimate betrayal. Soren loved putting his preferred scent on me, which is so much more floral and sweet in its smell...
“Your hair is greasy at the roots. We need to braid it. There’s no time for a proper bath.”
“If you say so,” I reply, placing the vial down in hopes she will forget to ensure I’m wearing it.
I kneel on the floor so Marissa can sit on the edge of the bed. Her rough strokes with a brush make me wince, and then she yanks hard on my hair. “Will you behave?”
Oh, gods, this is annoying. She wasn’t like this yesterday. “Am I not doing so right now?”
She threads tighter. Uneasy . “You are lucky, you know.”
I open my mouth, not sure what to say, breathing through my teeth when it hurts. “ Okay .”
She yanks again, pulling me back so she looks me in the eyes. They’re wide, and disturbed. “Jesper is the chosen one from Misery. If you comply, you’ll be courted by him… as you’re about to be, tonight,” she says, as if the idea is physically harmful to her. “And you’ll get to live the best life before having the most meaningful end.”
What the fuck is this? She gave off none of this over the last week. “Can you just finish my hair?”
Her jaw trembles, and she shoves my head forward again as I stare at the dwindling hearth. “I’ve been assigned to be your lady’s maid, you should know. Permanently.”
“I thought you already were, and you seemed so pleased by it...”
She lets out a puff of air, my mind spinning with trying to remember when this change occurred.
“Nope, the permanence was decided today. And I was excited to be a part of this great honor. Until Jesper spoke about you just now. He doesn’t roll out the evergreen oil to anyone . I didn’t think—I didn’t think you’d get that .”
Oh, well that’s interesting to know. He’s taking this seriously? That could either go well for me, or he could reveal how fucking weird he is and then I have to deal with that. “What did he say?”
“He wants you.” She pulls my hair tighter.
“ Stop that,” I warn, raising my hands as if I’ll do something, but I also don’t want to ruin any opportunity for tonight.
She does nothing to stop, my scalp burning. “Stop acting like you’re in danger. I’m not allowed to kill you .”
“You say that like you've killed others.”
“We’re not having that conversation.” She recomposes herself, or at least the mumbling under her breath stops. When she’s done braiding my hair and I create as much space between us as possible, she looks at me like I disgust her.
“So who did you kill?” I ask, wanting to know what kind of crazy I’m stuck in a room with.
“ Others .” She’s reminding me of a person that just received devastating news, like I’m the confirmed mistress of her lover. “I suppose we’re like sister wives now.”
I nearly laugh, my jaw dropping. “ What ?”
“I know Jesper.” She looks at me like killing me might be worth it. Her eyes widen like that should terrify me, and she wants to see the power of having my fear. “Just know what he wants from you is Misery’s fascination. Not you. Even if you smell like evergreens.”
“I’ll keep that fresh in mind.” Gods I fucking hate these people. She should know the only thing I want with his dick is to cut it off and shove it up his own ass.
There’s so much I want to say, but I swallow it all. The sirens. Anya. “Well, let me know when we can leave.”
She frowns, like she’s frustrated I don’t fear her. “He will come get you,” she spits out, turning on her heels to leave the room.
I stand there, my hair braided, and stare at the glass vial on the floor. I’m absolutely not putting that on. But I do undress from this rather simple, brown garb and slide on knickers and a thin, red, long-sleeve cotton dress, a belt at the waist to give it definition.
There are even sandals that wrap around my ankle for me to wear. I try to see it more as a warrior’s outfit, like the dress I’m wearing to the liberation of others. I’m rubbing my eyes when I hear someone come through the door again.
Jesper.
I hate how demented this man is. Sure, my father and Soren might be killers, but they’re not sadistic. They don’t hurt others because it brings them joy to watch someone suffer who didn’t deserve it. Shit, even Bones wouldn’t threaten an innocent person with rape , and he’s crazy.
“I don’t think she likes me,” I comment with a half-chuckle.“Marissa.”
I’m so fucking ready to learn about Jesper’s weakness. To see the piano room. Then, to knock him out and claim he passed out, but not before I get a perfect layout of the room. Of the balcony.
“She’s a lady’s maid. Too below me,” he comments, as if that condensation would impress me, like I’d realize I’m being approached by someone important .
I just look away, not knowing what to say, trying to avoid how gross I feel.
“Let’s go, Jane,” he says, my spine nearly shivering at how wrong it is to hear my name in his mouth. Jesper sticks a slim arm out as if gesturing to go first, to which I do, relieved to see the endless sea of steps before me, eager for this bit of freedom.
I start descending when he nods for me to, and it seems like we’re alone. For now.
“Did you ask for that implant to be placed in your skin?” Jesper asks.His fingers graze the back of my neck—I will not survive him beyond a few more weeks with how much I hate his touch. “It looks healed.”
“I healed it because she forced it into my skin, and if it comes out, it will kill me. I figured it was best to heal rather than die a stupid death,” I reply, touching the chilled stone of the walls.
“Morvock seemed more amused than angry. Like it’s a residual mark of the witch. One last, failed attempt to overpower him. It will not matter in the long run.”
My mind races freely with the gift Cypress gave me—no fear of my heart being invaded. “Where is Morvock when he’s here?”
“Why do you ask?” he asks with a tight tone.
“He’s a god, and you just mentioned him,” I quip. He seems to trust me more with my sass involved.
“In his wing. He has to rest.” The tone is still tight, and I get the sensation he doesn’t want to talk about Morvock.
No, probably just wants to talk about himself.
As I see the end of the stairwell, I think of his answer—does that mean he’s not watching me right now? Does Misery feel safe?
I have to make tonight count to its fullest.
Jesper takes the lead as we walk the same path as before: broad halls, lots of windows, tall ceilings, passing by many doors, fire light casting an orange hue all over.
After traversing a great hall, we bank to the left where the ocean is in clear view through the windows, even if only faintly visible with the moon, and then I see the large double doors, wide open.
Candlelight burns so bright inside; I can almost see why Marissa would be angry. It’s as if he’s officially courting me tonight. Planned everything out.
The only thing that carries me with confidence is knowing how, very shortly, I’m going to have true freedom… even attempt to make it down below.
Tonight.
Soren would tell me to strike when they don’t suspect it, like I had done with him—I choke that thought off. I can’t think of him, my dad, or Kathleen right now. I have one mission, and I breathe only for that—the sirens must be freed before anything else matters again.
Jesper is the first to strut in the room, at least half a dozen guards standing outside to shut us inside.
For a brief moment, I’m terrified he has something else planned. That Anya will be in here, or a siren will be served for dinner.
I survey every corner, looking for anything that would suggest such torture.
Nothing.
Except for some food— real food—on a table, along with a pitcher of wine. The scent of roasted meats makes my mouth salivate.
Then, the doors behind us are shut, and I make eye contact with Jesper.
This is not going to go how he thinks it is.