Chapter 15
The sound of a heavy deadbolt sliding wakes me again.
I struggle to sit up, my muscles stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground, and there’s a kink in my neck.
I manage not to vomit this time, not that there is anything left in my stomach to eject.
I lean back into the wall to stabilize myself and breathe through my nose.
A door on the wall opposite me swings open, colliding with the wall beside it.
The sound and light spilling through the open door pounds through my head and I flinch away.
Not blind then.
An orange-haired, barrel-chested man walks in carrying what appears to be a hunk of bread and a cup.
He sneers down at me, wrinkling his nose.
I meet his hard stare with one of my own, though I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
I may feel like a gijire has chewed me up and spit me back out, but that doesn’t mean I’ll back down.
He tosses the bread on the dirty floor, and looks from me to the cup and back again.
Then he throws the contents of the cup in my face.
The assault of liquid catches me off guard.
I sputter and wipe it away with my grimy hand.
If I wasn’t already in agony and struggling to hold on to consciousness, I’d teach him some manners.
“Maybe that’ll help the stench, you Condemned pig,” he sneers, his voice deeper than I expected. He turns and slams the door behind him, the sound echoing, making me wince. I’m left in darkness again, though I’m not too upset by that. The pounding in my skull seems less intense in the dark.
The haze in my mind has lifted enough for me to try to assess my situation.
The fight with the twins is slowly coming back to me.
They must have dragged me here after knocking me out.
But why? I’m a nobody from the Rookery. Who could I have possibly pissed off enough that they’d do this?
Is it someone I robbed? I doubt this is the new jail.
If it were, I likely wouldn’t have a cell to myself.
Plus, the Garrison doesn’t care enough to arrest a low-level pickpocket.
They would have taken my pickings, roughed me up, and left me in the street.
I try to look around the windowless room, to get a glimpse of something, anything to tell me where I might be.
My eyes are slowly readjusting to the dark, and there’s a dim glow coming from underneath the door.
I crawl toward it slowly, trying not to heave.
I run my hand over cool metal. As I run my hands up and down it, I can’t feel a handle or keyhole on this side. Guess I can’t pick the lock.
Not that I have anything to pick it with. My stomach drops to my feet as I remember. I reach down and claw at my pant leg. I feel for the rough leather of my sheath. Gone. Those fuckers took my dagger. Another pro on the growing pros and cons list of killing them.
I sigh and lean back against the cool metal of the door. As my eyes adjust further, I can vaguely see that the walls and floor are the same dark stone and there’s some liquid dripping down the wall to my right.
Gods and goddesses, I hope that’s just water.
It’s bad enough being locked in this cell, but if it also has sewage dripping into it, that would just be depressing. There is nothing else in this room. No cot, no toilet, not even a bucket to piss in.
I crawl back to the far wall. The small trek from the back of the cell to the door and back again has taken all the energy I had.
I curl up on my side and reach for my necklace, praying to gods I don’t believe in that they haven’t taken it.
I pull the small, caged pendant out from between my breasts with a small sigh of relief and put it to my nose.
I close my eyes and take deep, calming breaths, trying to hear my mother’s voice telling me to breathe.
Telling me everything will be alright. My mother may have ruined our lives with her hatred for the Montbeth family, but she was still my mother.
I know she loved me as best she could. I miss her with my whole heart.
Having her lessons, her necklace, the tenacity I learned from her, and her voice with me have helped keep me sane.
Still feeling dizzy and ill, I try to relax. I notice the bread soaking up the remnants of the water that was thrown in my face and dry heave again. The pain from the twin’s beating wraps around me, pulling me back into oblivion.