Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
The air is thick with the stench of sweat, urine, and blood. The smell of mold and mildew permeates the air, making it hard to breathe. The rusty bars of the cell are thick and aligned closely together, letting very little light come inside.
But the ground is the worst. Semi-moist, cold, and uncomfortable.
As soon as we arrived at the jail, we were dumped here quite unceremoniously and told a superintendent would see us at some point.
The jail is littered with small cells on each side of a small hallway. The moans of the other prisoners echo in the air, some filled with pain, some barely audible as they’re close to death.
I’ve heard about these provincial jails. The militia is tough on the s’Aperites who commit crimes, and often, the punishment for a transgression is death. There is little nuance in the Aperite society, both at the top and the bottom. Either you’re guilty or innocent, and if you qualify as the former, you must be punished accordingly.
My fear of being recognized takes a back seat as I now have to think of a way to make it out of this jail alive. Or, rather, to ensure that Mine makes it out alive, though I’m still put out with him for what he did.
Mine and I were put in a small cell, and luckily, we’re the only ones inside, though I can vaguely make out the shape of another dying prisoner in the cell across from ours.
We’re sitting on opposite sides of the small, dingy cell, though Mine keeps trying to inch closer to me and I continually shift away. The putrid scent of urine and decomposition hangs heavy in the air, making my stomach churn.
“What’s this atrocious smell?” Mine asks, crinkling his nose in disgust.
I give him a hard stare, incredulous at his complaint.
“You’re complaining about the smell? Now? You did this!” I snap at him.
“I did not expect this to be so…dirty,” he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
“It’s a jail! What did you expect? Royal treatment?” I roll my eyes at him, unable to hide my annoyance.
“Well…” He smiles sheepishly, his charm momentarily faltering.
“This is ridiculous,” I huff aloud. “I should have left you behind in Anthropa.”
“Now, now, darling Minnie, do not be cross with me.” He drags himself closer to me for what feels like the hundredth time, though this time he doesn’t stop until our bodies are pressed against each other.
I make to move—again. But he’s faster as he grabs me by the shoulder and all but pulls me onto his lap.
“Don’t be mad, pretty please?” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath fanning over my face and sending shivers down my spine.
I let out a shudder, torn between punching him and kissing him.
“I am very mad at you,” I tell him sternly, though with his proximity and seductive words, I have trouble keeping the same cold tone as before.
“I acquired us free transportation. Surely that deserves some credit,” he says, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and pulling me close to him. My initial reaction is to head butt him and distance myself from his touch. But the warmth radiating from his body is surprisingly comforting. I am cold, after all.
He leans into me, nuzzling his nose against my neck and taking in a deep breath. My instincts tell me to squirm away, but his hold is firm.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Stay still,” he demands, inhaling me once more. “You smell divine.”
“Thanks…I think. Now let go.”
“No.” His grip tightens around me. “Your scent helps me forget about the unbearable stench of this cell.”
I roll my eyes, mentally blaming him for our current predicament.
As I continue to shift my weight, attempting to break free, he responds by holding on to me even tighter.
“Stop moving,” he growls in a low, primal voice.
My movements freeze and I gulp nervously.
“You…you…” I stammer as the hardness of him presses against my backside. A blush creeps up my neck as a shiver runs through my body. “H-how can you…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “How can you be aroused in this situation?”
“I have no control over it,” he whispers in my ear.
A shiver runs down my spine, but this time it’s not from the biting cold. The intense heat emanating from his hardness seeps through the thin material of my dress, making me acutely aware of every inch of him as a person and as a male.
Strong. Virile. Hard.
It awakens something deep within me, a primal desire that I had long buried and thought did not exist.
Despite his laid-back personality and constant joking and teasing, there is an undeniable masculinity about him that calls to my hidden femininity and makes me crave to submit to him.
It’s outrageous. It’s terrifying.
But somehow, all the walls I’ve built around myself seem to crumble in his presence.
“You need to control yourself,” I croak out, though my stomach is filled with jittery knots and I can barely speak without stuttering.
He simply smiles against my skin, sending a rush of warmth through my body.
“How can I when you’re near?” he responds playfully.
“Mine!” I squeal when he presses even closer, his body molding perfectly against mine. “Can’t your…your…male part understand that we’re in a filthy jail cell?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He chuckles. “You’re here.”
“Well, tell it to behave. I can’t focus with…with it pressing into my back.”
“It won’t listen to me,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s completely enthralled by you.”
The thought is both thrilling and unnerving. But now is not the time for such thoughts.
I wiggle more and he lets out a muffled groan.
“Stop moving.”
“Why?” I ask innocently.
“You’re torturing me.”
“You’re torturing yourself with impure thoughts while we’re in this situation—that you caused, too.”
“Minnie, have some mercy on me. I’m hanging on by a thread here.”
“That’s your problem. Not mine.” I huff aloud. “Deal with it so we can plan how we’re going to get out of this situation.”
He doesn’t reply, merely releasing more guttural sounds into my neck. I continue to move in his lap, hoping it will drive him crazy enough that he’ll let me go. No matter how much I like the fact that he reacts to me, this is not the time for any reaction save for self-preservation.
“Stop.” His breathing is harsh and barely controlled. And when I don’t stop, instead releasing me from his grasp, I find myself on my back on the floor with him looming over me.
The cell is dark save for the few rays of sun making it through the bars. But as I gaze upon his face, the shade of swirling green of his eyes takes me aback.
The hunger in his gaze startles me. As he lodges himself with his hips between my legs, I feel that hard part of him right at my core.
I whimper. He smiles, his white teeth gleaming dangerously. Then he wiggles, and the breath is knocked out of my lungs at the onslaught of sensations traveling all over my body.
But I am not one to be ruled by my baser needs. And if he plays dirty, then I shall too.
Licking my lips, I lean forward until my mouth is close to his.
His brows go up in surprise, his breathing becoming more accentuated. His eyes droop and focus on my lips.
“Mine,” I whisper, getting closer to him.
“Minnie,” he rasps.
But just as he thinks I’m going to kiss him, I headbutt him. He reels back and lets out a groan of pain. It’s enough for me to slide from under him and resume my position at the other end of the cell, all the while glaring at him.
“Don’t you dare get more dirty thoughts,” I warn. “We have enough trouble as it is.”
I watch him closely, thinking he’s going to be mad at me. But to my surprise, he simply slumps back against the wall, his head thrown back as he lets out a laugh.
“You win, Minnie. You win.”
“Of course,” I huff. “Now—” I stop myself from continuing as I hear footsteps down the hallway. Mine is on alert, too. This time, when he comes to my side, I don’t tell him off. We both wait, and soon two guards appear into view.
Mine’s body tenses, and he grabs my hand, giving me a soft, comforting nod.
They stop in front of our cell, and just as I think they’re going to open the grilled door and get us out to meet the superintendent, they turn and unlock the cell opposite ours.
The guards barge inside and drag out a nearly dead man. His clothes are tattered and even in the poor lighting I can tell he’s badly bruised all over his body. The only sign that he’s still alive is the wheezing sound he makes as he breathes.
After they take him out of his cell, they dump him to the ground and one of the guards stomps angrily on his chest.
Once. Twice.
They both stomp on him until the wheezing sound stops. Until he no longer breathes.
Mine suddenly stands up and walks to the door.
“Hey!” he calls out to the soldiers.
“Mine,” I grit out. “Stop!”
He doesn’t mind me, continuing to address the soldiers.
“Cowardly of you to kick a defenseless man,” he jibes.
One of the guards turns to him, his eyes narrowed.
“Bet you’ve never tried to hit someone who can hit back,” he continues.
“I will deal with this,” the guard tells the other.
He strides to our cell. Reaching between the bars, he grabs Mine by his shirt and pulls him close.
“Next time, it will be you,” the guard sneers, releasing a burst of energy that sends Mine flying against the wall of the cell.
I gasp.
The guards laugh as they see him cough blood as he tries to get his bearings together.
I scramble over to where Mine is, glaring at the guards.
“Or perhaps we will do her next,” they say mockingly.
Mine’s muscles tense, but I beg him not to mind them.
“Focus on me,” I whisper. “Only on me.”
He brings his eyes to me, his gaze thunderous and ready to kill.
I caress his face softly, wiping away the blood from his mouth.
“Only focus on me,” I repeat.
When the guards realize they won’t get another rise out of him, they grab the dead prisoner and drag him away. As they pass by the other cells, more sounds erupt as the other prisoners hurl insults and curses at the soldiers.
The steps recede.
“Are you all right? What was in your mind?” I ask as I scan his body. He must have taken quite a hit if he’s spitting out blood.
“I’m fine.” He smiles, his teeth bloody.
“What was that?” I grit out at him. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
He shrugs.
“I didn’t. But I did get this.” He opens his palm to show me a key.
My eyes widen.
“You…”
“I got us here. I’m getting us out.”
“You idiot!” I hiss. “Why didn’t you ask me before you did something like that?”
Another shrug.
“This won’t help. We might get out of the cell, but we can’t get out of the prison.” I take a deep breath as I try to calm myself. How could he take such a risk without even consulting me?
“What do you mean?”
“There are wards all over the prison. Jailbreak is impossible. Only the soldiers have runes etched into their bodies to allow them to freely walk in and out of the prison.”
“You can use energy from the pin and bypass the wards,” he says.
“You think I wouldn’t have offered if that was an option? I don’t know what wards they’re using and as such I wouldn’t be able to replicate the exit runes.”
His lips tighten as he mulls on that.
“What about the dead guy? How are they taking his body out? Are they etching a rune on his body?”
I shake my head.
“The dead are taken to the morgue and placed in a special wooden coffin that has the runes etched inside. And if we don’t find another way to leave, that’s going to be our fate, too.”
“Not necessarily,” he comments.
I raise a brow.
“I have an idea.” He smiles sheepishly. “And this”—he holds up the key—“will help us.”
“Let me guess. Another stupid idea that will put your life in danger. No, thank you.”
He tilts his head to the side as he regards me.
“My life? Only mine? You don’t have powers, remember?”
“I still likely won’t die. But you can. And I’m not about to stand by and watch you die.”
His lips curl up, his features lighting up.
“So you do care for me. At least a little.”
“You’re impossible,” I mumble and look away.
Suddenly, though, his expression changes.
“There are worse things than death, Minnie. They might not kill you, but they can certainly do other things.”
“By other things you mean…”
He grabs my chin and turns me to him.
“Rape. Yes. You saw how he looked at you. I wanted to gouge his eyes out for the mere fact that he dared to look at you.”
“They can’t. Rape isn’t allowed,” I protest. “We have very stringent rules and the higher-ups would never condone that.”
He lets out a dry laugh.
“Is that what you think? Ah, Minnie, you’re much more naive than I thought.”
“I’m not naive.”
“Idealistic then. You think your rules mean anything when there’s no one watching?”
“But—”
“I wager if they can kill a defenseless man, they can very well rape a woman, too.”
“No, that’s… It can’t be.”
“Men will be men, no matter what world they’re in.”
I nibble on my lip. He does have a point. And though I still don’t believe any militia or military personnel would engage in that, I don’t want to risk it.
“So what’s your great idea then?”
“Simple. We get out of here and head to the morgue. We find an empty coffin and that’s our way out of here.”
“Are you…serious?”
“Very.”
“You think they won’t check the coffins before they take them out?” I roll my eyes at him.
“Oh, I’m sure they will. But you will use your magical pin and make it so they don’t see us. You can do that, no?”
“I can but?—”
“It’s settled. Now we just have to find the perfect time to leave the cell.”
A little more back and forth, and it seems his plan is the only viable one, so we wait until everyone is asleep before we use the key to get out of the cell. I borrow some energy from the pin and cloak our presence as we walk down the hallway.
The conditions of the prisoners in the cells are appalling to see. All of them are beaten and starved, moaning in pain and barely able to move. They are one step away from dying, and I assume that’s what the guards are waiting for. And if they don’t die by the time they’re supposed to, they’ll apply the same treatment they did to the other prisoner.
Disgust rolls in my stomach. If I hadn’t seen this firsthand, I would have never believed the militia to be capable like this. And this begs the question: who allows them to do so?
I am sure Commander Azerius would be against it. Not for any moral reason, but because it goes against the law.
Yet the only reason why the laws are not as enforced here is because these people are s’Aperiotes, not Aperites with divine origin. They are just a stepping stone for those in power.
I’d known the system to be broken—my forced betrothal to that clown being a prime example for it—but I never thought the situation would be so dire.
We are not allowed to interfere with mortals’ fates, but what about s’Aperiotes? Aren’t they mortal, too? Aren’t these soldiers who kill them descendants of the Primordials, too, even if far removed? It is a conundrum, and once I get back my powers and resume my position, I aim to get to the bottom of this.
Mine holds on to my hand as we carefully walk the long, windy hallway that’s littered with darkened cells. It’s like a never-ending maze as we turn right and left, only to find more cells, more dying people.
He doesn’t seem too happy about it, either. His face is screwed up in disgust, his nostrils flaring every time a shout of help resounds through the hallways, followed by the incessant moans of pain.
By chance, we stumble onto the door that leads to the exit. But now it’s a matter of finding the morgue where they prepare the bodies to take them outside of the jail.
“This way,” Mine suggests. With no idea where to go, I follow him. Turns out his luck is still going strong today because he leads us straight to the morgue.
The moment we enter the room, the smell of rotting flesh assaults us.
“Good Lord, I hate the smell of putrefied flesh,” he mutters as he covers his mouth and nose.
I purse my lips. The smell is indeed a bad one, but this is not the time to mind his sensibilities. I’ve noticed he’s not very good with strong scents, and it makes me wonder how he managed to last so long in the military—after all, no matter the world, soldiers end up doing the dirty jobs, more often than not in dirty conditions too.
“Stop complaining,” I mutter in annoyance.
“If you give me a kiss, I’ll be able to keep my mind off it,” he mentions shamelessly with a wiggle of his brows.
I give him a deadly glare.
“This is not the time for jokes, Mine. We need to get out of here. Now.”
“Fine, fine.” He lets out a disappointed sigh. “It was just an idea.”
“Get an idea about how we’re going to fit in one of those.” I point to the rows of wooden caskets.
They aren’t very big and Mine is a very tall male, taller than most s’Aperiotes, in fact.
He scrunches his nose in disgust.
“Are they all going to be taken outside?”
“All the ones with bodies inside.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he blurts out as he pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “You don’t mean we’ll have to share a space with a dead body.”
“What did you think I meant?” I raise a brow at him.
“It’s a dead body, Minnie! It smells, and it probably already has maggots running through it.” He makes a disgusted face.
I shake my head and purse my lips.
What am I going to do with him? I knew I should have left him behind. He has the sensibilities of a pampered female.
“You want to get out? That’s the only way.”
“But—”
“No buts. In fact, move your butt into a casket.”
“You’ll join me, though?”
I roll my eyes.
“Of course. I have the powers, remember? Don’t you worry, Mine, you will be safe with me.” I pat him on the back and look around the caskets.
I find the largest one and move the lid to the side to reveal a portly man inside—in a quite advanced stage of putrefaction.
Ew. Alas, it must be done.
Drawing energy from the pin, I levitate the dead body out of the casket and I dump him into an empty, smaller one. It’s a tight fit, and it takes a few tries for me to finally dump him inside.
Mine chokes as the belly of the man pops, liquid flowing out of him into the casket.
Double ew.
I put the lid on the other casket and motion for Mine to join me into the newly empty one.
“Can you… do something about the smell?”
“You’re impossible,” I mutter under my breath. But alas, he is right that we do need at least a semi-decent casket since we don’t know how long we’ll be in there.
I use my powers to clean it and step inside, fitting my body close to the edge to make room for him. There is still a slight musty smell coming from the wood, but considering this must have been used to carry out hundreds if not thousands of bodies, I suppose it’s normal for the smell to be ingrained into the material.
“Are you coming?” I ask in annoyance.
He lets out a defeated sigh before slowly stepping closer to the dark wooden box. His gaze is pensive and his forehead creased with a frown, his lips pressed tightly together.
“Ahh, the things I do for you, Minnie,” he murmurs, almost to himself. With a shake of his head, he climbs into the casket, taking a moment to look around before settling down inside.
“It’s going to be a tight fit,” he remarks slyly, giving me a mischievous look as he lies on his side against the wall of the casket. Our bodies are pressed flush against each other in the confined space.
Everywhere we touch, sparks fly between us.
His breath is hot against my face, his chest rising and falling with each breath just inches from mine.
I swallow nervously.
“I guess we’re having a Dracula moment,” he whispers with a playful glint in his eye.
“A what?” I furrow my brow in confusion.
“Never mind.” He shakes his head. “I suppose I was wrong. This is actually quite comfortable. Especially…” He shifts slightly and his hips press against mine, letting me know he is once again excited by our close proximity.
My cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
“We need to focus.” I clear my throat, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach his closeness causes.
He smirks at me knowingly.
“I am focusing on you,” he retorts smoothly.
“Enough. This is serious?—”
But before I can finish my sentence, he presses a finger to my lips and his expression turns serious. He tilts his head to listen carefully.
“Someone is coming.”
My eyes widen in alarm.
Palming the pin, I use some energy to move the lid of the casket off the ground and place it on top of us.
Darkness engulfs us.
The door to the morgue opens and steps thud onto the floor as soldiers march in. They’re deep in conversation, making ribald jokes and poking fun at each other. I would have rolled my eyes at the situation had I not been backed into a corner like this—literally.
Although it’s dark inside the casket, Mine’s breath fan over my face, the air getting warmer and warmer. The old, musty smell of the wood is all but forgotten as his scent invades my nostrils.
We’ve been in close quarters before. Yet somehow this seems more intimate, more…important. Despite the fact that neither of us speaks and that the only noises around us are the raised voices of the soldiers, the silence is heavy. Perhaps it’s because we’re both silent that I am so acutely aware of him next to me, of his warm body warming my own when cold is all I’ve ever known.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the barrage of feelings that threatens to consume me. From the start, I set out to focus on the mission and get my powers back. But just as well, from the start Mine set out to thwart me at every turn. Even when I feel most confident about what I’m supposed to do, he still makes me waver.
Now, as I feel his presence, steeped in all the senses but sight, I start to realize that no matter how strong my resolve is, his might be stronger.
He never once balked in the face of a challenge, even after knowing my true identity and my goals; or after all our misunderstandings.
He’s been steadfast where I have been wavering. And that realization makes me pause. Not only because a relationship with him as a human goes against everything I am, everything I was taught, but also because for the first time, I am someone’s goal .
Have I ever had someone put me first before? I find the courage to ask myself. And the answer is evident: no.
I was born for a purpose, I was raised for a purpose, and I was always treated as a purpose. Even during my time in the military, an avenue I sought out to establish my own purpose, I was just another soldier in a sea of equally or better qualified ones. I did my job, but I was never indispensable, as evidenced by the way the military so easily washed its hands of me. To my family, aside from the advantages my union with Theron would bring, I am rather…dispensable.
Never in my life have I felt that I was the sole focus of someone; the sole ambition.
“I’m here,” Mine whispers. “I’ll keep you safe.” He takes my hand in his and squeezes it tightly, that gesture alone imbuing me with more strength than any magical object ever could
I blink my eyes open, though I still cannot see him.
“W-what?” I whisper back, the word spoken through trembling teeth.
His hand slides up my arm: up and down. That’s when I realize why he is trying to comfort me. My entire body is trembling.
Shudders consume my body and I am unable to stop them. Fear, frustration, and desolation compete for supremacy within me. It’s an overload of emotions, and it’s all because of him.
Because he goes against everything I should want. Because he made me his purpose when all I’ve ever been was an accessory to a purpose, never one in itself.
“Shh,” he continues, holding me as best he can in this tight space.
Such a precarious situation we’re in, and my emotions decided to suddenly surface just now.
“I’m here, with you. Always with you. Nothing will happen, all right?” He continues to whisper, to comfort, as if he had the power to change everything even when I know he doesn’t.
Strangely enough, I find myself believing him.
“Follow my breaths. In and out,” he continues.
I attempt to emulate his breathing, the adrenaline within me crashing down until there’s only a dark hole in my chest, a feeling of relief but also one of loss.
Another realization hits me.
There is only one thing that can fill the void within me—the one thing that might damn me for all eternity.
As I continue to struggle for breath, more sounds erupt in the morgue. The soldiers carry out a few caskets and debate which ones to take out next to fill their quota.
My eyes widen in fear. I should have realized when I saw so many bodies that they don’t carry them out as they die, rather when it’s comfortable for them. And if they don’t choose ours…
Their steps become closer until they stop next to ours.
I quickly summon energy from the pin to create an illusion over Mine and me so that if they open the lid, all they’ll see is a dead body.
“This one doesn’t smell as bad. I think we can stop for today,” one of the soldiers says, stopping just as he’s about to peek inside.
I borrow more energy and unleash the strongest, most foul smell I am able to—which is tricky in itself. I cannot create things out of thin air, but I can borrow already existent ones. And to pull this off, I borrow some of the stench from the overweight man from before and imbue it around us.
Mine squeezes my hand.
“It doesn’t smell? Is your nose all right? This one stinks the worst!” another soldier intones.
They don’t even bother to open up the lid, immediately sliding it closed and sealing it with a couple of nails—most likely they don’t want to smell that again.
They struggle to carry our casket to the back of a vehicle, after which they just carelessly dump it on top of others.
Some more chatter, and the vehicle is moving.
Since they will likely not check on us again, I clean up the air and replace it with fresh one.
Mine lets out a long breath.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” he mentions in a low voice.
“I can do a lot of things,” I huff. “I will have you know that what I may lack in spiritual energy I make up in creativity. There are some tricks that use less energy than others and that get the job done just as well,” I tell him, almost as if I feel compelled to explain myself.
I might not be the strongest, but I am still a level five. That is more than halfway to nine, which means I am well above average. If only I were higher, though… I wouldn’t have been put in this situation in the first place—the marriage conundrum, not the Anthropa debacle. I now see that what happened in Anthropa was my fault alone, and how can I regret it when I’ve gotten to meet Mine, who’s proven to be quite the loyal follower. Yes, that part I do not regret.
“Minnie?”
“Huh?”
“I asked you a question. Where do they take the dead bodies?”
I mull over the question for a moment.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I am not too familiar with how militias work, and every region does it differently.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see then. I just hope they won’t bury us. It will be hard enough to get out of this casket with the lid nailed shut.”
“Bury us?” I snort in disbelief, my voice muffled by the walls of the casket. “Too much effort for them. Did you see how lazy those soldiers are?”
“Then I certainly hope they won’t incinerate us,” he continues with a nervous edge to his tone.
I roll my eyes at his pessimism. “Why do you have to be so grim? I’m certain they’ll just?—”
Before I can finish, the vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, causing our bodies to jostle within the confines of our coffin-like prison.
“What’s happening?” Mine asks as we hear shuffling all around us.
The sound of heavy footsteps and gruff voices grows louder and closer. A loud thud echoes through the air, followed by another one.
Our casket suddenly starts moving, swaying back and forth as if being transported by a group of clumsy pallbearers. I cling onto Mine as we prepare to be discarded with the casket. But instead, the nails on the lid start rattling as the soldiers take them out one by one. Suddenly, it slides open, blinding light penetrating the darkness inside.
I quickly grab onto the pin and use its energy to once more camouflage our appearances and scents.
As the soldiers take off the lid of the casket, they move around it and tip it forward with a grunt.
“Faster. It stinks!” one of them yells, clearly not pleased with their task.
Mine and I hold on to each other tightly as we suddenly come face-to-face with a steep cliff. Without warning, the soldiers give us a rough shove and we tumble out of the casket, falling over the edge of the cliff.