Chapter 27 #3
There have to be twenty or so cages lining the walls, some larger than others.
Some house large groups of people, thin mattresses, and dirty blankets strewn across the floor.
Other cages house only a few, and anyone who can stand is pressed up against the bars, shackled hands outstretched, reaching for the light floating ahead of me.
“Here.” I shove my hands forward, offering streams of Sol magic to the first cage I come to. I pull it to the surface of my palms and press it straight into their cold hands. “Take it.”
Turning, I do the same for the Sol behind me, dipping further into my reserves than I probably should, but I do it without hesitation. I make my way down the line of cages, converting stored energy into soft light, then warming their outstretched hands with it.
I touch every hand I can reach.
The Sol cradle the light, the warmth, sobbing without tears, their bodies too dehydrated to spare any moisture. There are so many of them, and they’re all horribly emaciated—sunken eyes that have lost all their luster and skin that's missing its Solian warmth.
It’s the most horrific thing I’ve ever seen.
“Here,” my voice cracks as I offer up more, meeting the eyes of desperate men and women. The elderly are being helped up to the bars, unable to even lift their heads, but they manage enough strength to reach their hands out to me.
I turn, hurrying to the next cage. Then the next. And the next.
Every direction I face is filled with more stomach-churning terror. So much, I think I might be sick.
“Esme’s girl.”
I whirl around at the frail voice—a man in his later years, glassy eyes soft on mine.
“You’re Esme’s girl,” he says again. “Look!” the man demands of those in his cell, gesturing to me, “Look! She’s here!”
Silence falls. Quick and absolute.
My illusion slipped.
There’s a ripple of hushed murmurs, but despite the continuous coughing, everyone remains silent. The man’s attention slowly drifts from me to the space behind me.
In the neighboring cages, everyone else does the same, sunken eyes drifting to the cage at the end of the aisle.
I squint into the darkness, noticing a shadowed figure moving up to the bars in the cage everyone is staring at. Whoever it is straightens—a man judging by his tall and wide build.
“Hello?” I take a cautious step forward, pulling up more magic to illuminate the dark aisle before me.
The echo of my voice hasn’t even finished ringing out when a door slams open and the sound of heavy footfalls comes stomping down the stairs.
“Wakey wakey, little lambs,” the guard's taunt ricochets off the stone. “Bed check.”
“Shit,” I curse, scrambling to put my illusion back in place.
Finding Alesi down here is certainly better than finding Lucina.
As I morph into the servant, I move quickly down the line of cages. There has to be another way out of here. Another hidden passage. Something.
“Down there!” A young woman whisper-shouts through the bars beside me, pointing to a small gap between the cages ahead. “Hurry!”
I nearly trip over my feet as I run, making it all of two steps when a blinding beam of light hits my back.
“HEY!” the guard shouts.
I’m pinned in place. The light he shines is…unnatural. It burns into my skin, and I grit my teeth to keep from squirming under the intensity of it, willing all my focus into maintaining my illusion.
Chains rattle as the Sol scramble away from their bars, evading the guards’ light. They cringe against the farthest walls, shrinking away from the aisle.
It takes everything I have to turn around and face the guard, skin burning as I squint back at him.
“The fuck?” the guard snorts, clicking off the light, and I sag in relief. “Alesi?” He approaches slowly, yellow eyes narrowing as he nears.
“The Umbra sent me,” I rush out, swallowing against the fear and panic sloshing through my veins.
The Rogue’s head tilts, a slow, greedy smile spreading across his pale face. “Sent you?” He takes another menacing step forward. “Here? To do what, Alesi?”
“She wanted me to—”
“She’s never sent anyone down here before…”
I retreat a step. “To give their rations.”
“They’ve already had their rations.”
New plan. I need a new plan.
Halting in his pursuit, his smile widens, and then he surges forward, snatching my wrist before I can stop him.
The Rogue yanks me to his chest, sharp canines inches from my ear. “I didn’t know the Baron’s whore was such a terrible lia—”
A sharp crack echoes through the space, and I gasp when the guard’s head twists all the way around his body. It all happens so fast, his grip on my wrist faltering as he slides to the floor with a thud that silences the room.
I stumble backwards, making it all of two feet before I bump into a wall.
No.
A torso. Someone’s chest.
Before I can whirl around, a hand comes up over my mouth, covering the whole lower half of my face.
Instinct has me clawing at the arm holding me in place, nails breaking smooth skin.
Something dark sweeps down the aisle, barreling straight for me, and when it reaches my feet, sweeping up my body, all the fight drains out of me.
The dungeon, the cages before me—everything fades away.
But I don’t see black when my consciousness slips.
I see blue.