CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
"Wait for the guards to pass by," Alaric whispers, and I nod, pressing myself into a niche in the wall.
Two guards are walking towards our hiding place, accompanied by a hound that snaps and snarls, held in check only by the chain around its neck. I can feel this is a creature bred for violence, trained to hunt down and tear apart any prisoner foolish enough to run.
Alaric gestures, and a patch of wall shimmers into being in front of us, conjured by his illusion magic.
It’s only semi-opaque from our side, letting us see the guards as they approach.
We’re pressed together in the niche, our bodies fitting to one another perfectly.
I can feel the heat of Alaric’s skin next to mine, feel his heartbeat as if it’s my own.
“The dog,” he whispers, barely a breath against my ear.
I understand. Alaric can protect us from sight, but there’s still a chance the hound will scent us and alert the guards.
I reach out with my magic, touching the violence of its mind.
I can feel the things that were done to train it, the way it’s kept hungry so it will be eager to attack and tear at flesh.
I soothe it, trying to ease some of its pain and fear, even as I don’t allow it to sense us.
I let it pull the guards forward instead, hurrying them on past our hiding place.
Alaric and I slip out as they pass, making our way along the corridors of the prison.
There are cell doors set to either side, the bars giving glimpses into dark and dingy spaces beyond.
There are figures huddled in some of the cells, cringing back from us as we pass.
Some of them are chained to the walls. Some of them have visible signs of injuries from beatings or worse.
I’m sickened by this place. I can’t imagine why Rowan has kept it going.
Yes, there are criminals within the Republic, and yes, they must be imprisoned or punished in some other way.
But there’s a difference between that and this torment.
There are more traps along the route, both alarms and bursts of magic. The guards seem to be able to walk past the traps with impunity, suggesting they have something designed to stop them from triggering. Or perhaps they just know the proper places to step to keep out of their areas of effect.
Alaric and I must work more slowly, disarming each one as we go, using the stones in Alaric's pouch. With each trap, we pick out an opposing type of magic, letting the trap exhaust itself even as we drain the stone. My only concern is that our stock of such stones is running low, and I don’t know how many more traps we still need to work our way past.
I stretch out my awareness, looking through the eyes of small creatures around the prison, getting a view of every corner within it. It means I can spot the next approaching guard patrol, but this time there’s no niche to hide in.
"Guards!" I whisper sharply to Alaric. I expect him to get ready to fight or run, but instead, he hurries over to one of the cells, taking out a set of lockpicks and starting to work on the lock.
He's obviously picked up a series of dubious skills in his time with the resistance.
And he's picked them up well, because the door quickly swings open and we slip inside, pulling the door shut behind us.
The stench of death hits us as we step into the cell, a grim place that’s little more than a small cave carved out of the rock beneath the city, rusted chains hanging from the walls.
There are bones in a pile in one corner, but the true horror is the sight of a more recent prisoner lying on the ground, half eaten by rats.
This is a place where people have been abandoned, left to die.
“When we get out of here, I’m going to Rowan,” I whisper to Alaric. “I’m going to insist this place is changed or shut down.”
Alaric nods, but puts a finger to my lips as the guards go past. If they look into the cell and see us, they won’t even have to beat us in a fight. They’ll just need to lock the door until more of their number can come.
A part of me wants to fight the guards now.
They might serve Aetheria, but it's clear this place has attracted the worst and cruelest guards.
How many of them will truly be loyal to the city?
How many are just here for the money and the chance to exercise power over others?
It's impossible to know for sure. I have to remind myself that we're here for a reason.
If Domitian is freed by Selene's people, he'll make the whole city into a place every bit as nightmarish as this prison.
Alaric and I keep going. I hold my awareness in a dozen different spots, watching the guards and making sure we can avoid them. Even with the hatred I have for the guards here, now, I know we can’t afford to announce our presence like that.
“We’re almost there,” I say, consulting the map. “Domitian’s cell seems to be one of several reserved for the most powerful magical prisoners. They’re all just ahead.”
“Is there any sign of Selene’s people, yet?” Alaric asks.
I stretch out my awareness, looking through the eyes of the animals. I quickly shake my head.
“Not so far. Maybe they made an opening earlier, to allow others through.”
I’m starting to worry that we haven’t spotted them yet, though.
Cesca told us that Selene’s people were going to try to get to Domitian tonight, and I didn’t detect any signs of deception as she said it, none of the emotional cues that might have indicated she was lying.
She believed what she told us, but what if she was wrong?
What if Selene changed her plans the moment Cesca left the colosseum, especially if the former arch-magistrate guessed that Cesca must have had help from the resistance to avoid her people so completely?
What if she no longer plans to send in her people tonight, but instead will do it tomorrow, or the day after?
I want to believe that, if they’d already made an attempt yesterday, Rowan would have said something to us.
The section given over to containing the most magical prisoners is just ahead. There's a gate in front of it, with a couple of guards on it who look alert and determined. I curse silently because it's obvious we need to get past them, and I can't think of a way to do that without them spotting us.
Alaric seems to be thinking the same thing.
“Wait here,” he says. “Be ready to intervene when it starts.”
“When what starts?” I ask, but Alaric is already moving forward, his whole appearance changing as he goes, so that he looks like another of the guards.
“Hello there, brothers, I’ve been sent to relieve you.”
“Sent?” one of them says. “Sent by whom? It isn’t time for us to come off duty. And there’s only one of you. There should be two guards if-”
Alaric hits him halfway through the sentence, catching him by surprise.
It’s not enough to knock the guard out cleanly, but it sends him stumbling as Alaric moves in to attack the second, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep him from crying out for help even as he starts to hammer knees and elbows into his body.
I rush forward, knowing there's no time to waste. I draw my club, running at the guard Alaric, momentarily stunned. I can't let him recover enough to call for help. I can't give him any chance to join the fight, either.
I swing my club as I run, slamming it down into the guard’s head as he rises, meeting him with all the power I can muster. The guard slumps down again, fully unconscious now, showing no signs of moving.
Alaric is still struggling with the other guard. He’s hampered by the need to keep the guard from crying out for help, one hand occupied with that while his other is clamped onto the guard’s sword arm, trying to stop him from drawing his blade.
I come up behind the guard, hitting him with the same force I used to subdue his comrade.
With the way the guards seem to treat the prisoners here, I don’t feel any need to hold back.
The guard slumps in Alaric’s grip, so that for a moment it looks as though the two of them are dancing together, before Alaric lowers him to the floor.
“We need to work quickly now,” Alaric says. “We don’t know how long we have before they wake up.”
I search the guards, taking the time to tie their hands and gag them.
I find a set of keys on one, and both have stones inscribed with multiple sigils, obviously designed to allow them to pass the traps in the prison.
I pocket one, passing another to Alaric.
It will make it far quicker for us to leave than it was coming in.
I unlock the gate into the high security area, hurrying through and consulting the map once again. It shows Domitian’s cell at the end of the hall, so Alaric and I rush forward.
“We can take him from the prison,” Alaric says. “We’ll put him under guard in a resistance safehouse, so Selene doesn’t have him. Maybe he’ll even be able to tell us something we can use.”
It will be hard to contain Domitian, but it’s better than leaving him here if Selene’s people are coming for him. I reach the door, unlocking it quickly. Alaric has his sword in his hand, and I keep my club in mine. Domitian won’t be happy to see us.
We rush in. The cell we enter is a large, mostly empty space, with little more than some straw at one end and a grate in the floor to allow waste to pass through.
There are chains set on the walls, and runes around the room that I can feel pressing in with a wave of nullification magic, dampening magical power the way a dampener might.
Other than that, the room is empty. There’s no sign of Domitian.
“Are we in the wrong cell?” Alaric asks.
I shake my head. “It’s the one the map shows. It’s…”
What is it? What’s going on here? There are so many things that don’t add up. Why have there been no signs of Selene’s people around the prison? Why is the cell empty?
Why did Selene need to do this at all? That question comes out of nowhere, and I realize it's one I should have asked far earlier than this.
Why would Selene need to break into this prison when she has control of the Senate?
If she wants Domitian freed, she could just have the senate vote to show him clemency.
Even the idea that she wanted him free seemed strange when he was a potential rival for authority.
All of which adds up to a horrifying realization. That none of this is truly about an attempt to free Domitian. Selene has outthought Alaric and me, knowing how we would react when we heard of the attempt. She knew we’d come here. Which means only one thing as I turn to Alaric with fear filling me.
“This is a trap!”