Chapter 40 Mav
MAV
Istartled awake as the cell door scraped open. The stone beneath me had warmed from body heat overnight, but couldn’t stave off the stiffness in my bones.
A guard trudged in and set four bowls on the ground—full of something beige and steaming.
“Ugh.” Vesper took a cautious sniff. “Can we go straight to requesting poison next time?”
“Eat,” Thistle encouraged. “We’ll need our strength today.”
Branrir grimaced as he swallowed another spoonful. “They’re changing shifts every six hours.”
“The guards?” I asked, choking down the gooey porridge.
“First was at midnight, before you arrived. The second was this morning at six. If the pattern holds, then we can expect the guards to change at noon and at six in the evening.”
Vesper sat up straighter. “We’ll have a smaller chance of dying if we wait until the evening.”
“And the ceremony is set to take place at sunset,” Thistle added.
A beat passed between us.
“What can we use to get out of here?” Branrir asked.
“I can Hum,” I said. “Lull them. Convince them to open the door. But the magic is far stronger when channeled through an instrument.”
Thistle leaned forward. “I can use the moss. There’s enough in the corners and between the stones for Hedge. Maybe enough to snare a guard or gag them before they call for help.”
“I can scratch out their eyes,” Vesper added, grinning with a dark sense of satisfaction.
Thistle arched a brow. “Let’s try not to go full massacre unless we have to.”
“You’re no fun,” Vesper pouted.
Branrir shifted where he sat, one knee bouncing. “We’ve been dragged through enough hallways that I could draw them from memory. I can get us through the lower floors but…” He hesitated. “I don’t know where the wedding is.”
“I do.”
All heads whipped to me.
“It’s happening in the ballroom.”
Thistle’s forehead creased. “You’re certain?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “The dungeon has to be opened by a Tremor.”
Vesper huffed. “This might be the only time those stupid color-coded armbands would be helpful.”
“Branrir, do you remember who opened it?” I asked.
His lips parted with a scoff. “I’m a Hindsight, of course I do.”
“Point them out—we’ll need them.”
They were our only chance of getting out of here.