Chapter 15 #3
“Grandfather! She’s a traitor. I saw her talking to Mortandagh. Heard everything. I swear upon my life, Cassian was a traitor. I killed him, that son of a bitch, and I’ve brought her back to you.”
Eldric raised his hand, his silver necklace shining as he bound Lesya where she lay.
“Where are Clive, Theo, and Freya?”
“Lost,” Elias said, panting. “Mortandagh killed them.”
“You think I cannot see through your lies?!” Eldric roared. “Throw them both in the dungeon!”
Vanguard soldiers came and grabbed Lesya. Two of them grabbed Elias.
“Strip her bare of her effects,” Eldric said as he turned away.
* * *
It was a cold, dark, damp dungeon cell in which the Vanguard soldiers threw Lesya. There was no window. No bars. Only a door with a small slit. Her clothes had been ripped off, her bag taken from her, her channeling device torn from her hand.
She lay whimpering, her hands bound in anti-magic clamps, in her underwear. Something dripped from the roof, but it was the least of her concerns.
Cassian was dead. She’d seen him get hit by the spell. She had not been able to save him.
And now his corpse was with Mortandagh. She hoped that he would preserve it. So that she could…
There was no getting out of this dungeon.
There was no way she could use her magic. When she tried to call out to Aeterna, she got silence in return. There was something in the walls of the cell that was barring her ability to use telepathy.
They did not feed her nor give her water. By the end of the first day, she was so thirsty that she sat and held her mouth open to drink the dripping liquid from the roof. In the darkness, she could not make out what it was.
Was it water?
It did not taste like water. It tasted like sewerage. It smelled like it too.
She gagged, vomiting on the floor, her stomach contracting and pulling inside painfully.
Everything had happened so fast, then had all come to a standstill with her being in prison, that her mind could not reconcile it.
She could not believe that Cassian was dead. Worse, she could not believe that she wasn’t there to save him.
What was happening in the world? She knew nothing of it. She’d lost count of the hours she’d spent in this dungeon. By what she assumed was the third day, the slit in the door opened and someone tossed in stale bread and cheese.
She broke upon it like a ravenous dog, choking on what she was swallowing. A flask was chucked through the same slit, carrying water. She drank it all in one go, then wished she hadn’t. She didn’t know when she’d be fed next.
Lesya spent her time in the dark, the confines of the dungeon driving her already grieving mind deeper into madness.
Every day, at the same time, someone would throw in food and water flasks. That was her only contact with the outside world.
* * *
By the end of the week—a timespan that felt like several months to her—the door opened, and the headmaster stood there holding a lamp.
“Lesya Rosefield. You are to face trial tomorrow morning for your practice of Aeternumancy and your betrayal of the Covenant,” Eldric said.
He looked upon her haggard form, covered in dirt and bruises, her hair caked to her head, her eyes sunken and wild.
“You have already been deemed guilty. This is just for our formality, and to determine the degree of your punishment. Personally, I will vote for your execution.”
From within the darkness of the dungeon cell came a hoarse voice. “Get on with it then.”
The headmaster stepped back in alarm. He slammed the door shut. He could hear Lesya’s mad cackles coming from the dungeon cell.
He went to the next cell and opened it. Inside lay Elias.
“Grandfather!” Elias said hoarsely. “Please let me out!”
“Let you out? Why would I do that? Your foolishness cost me my most valuable man. Clive Bane, Theo, and Freya are dead for all I know. You jeopardized the mission. And what have you given me?”
“LESYA! I GAVE YOU LESYA!” Elias yelled. “She’s the Aeternumancer you’ve been looking for. The one you were meant to kill! I made sure she doesn’t join Mortandagh! THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!”
“You are a madman,” Eldric said. “And tomorrow, when your trial is held, I hope that they opt to lock you in the Doldrum Isles for the rest of your life. Some champion of Sol you are.”
“Grandfather, please!” Elias yelled. “I did the right thing!”
“Maybe,” Eldric said, slamming the door shut. “But in doing so, you’ve caused war.”
Eldric ignored the sounds of Elias screaming and crying and thrashing against the door. He climbed up the dungeon’s steps and headed back into the manor.
“Elara!” he called. Most of the Covenant was assembled in the main hall. Elara Moore appeared from the crowd. Tomorrow, the Covenant would be present for the trial. For now, he needed Elara.
Once she’d followed him into his office, he closed the door and said, “Before we hand her over to the court, I need you to do something.”
“Anything, Headmaster,” Elara said.
Eldric pulled out a vial from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Truth serum. Find out everything she knows. Mix this in the water flask you send her tonight. And I want you to torture her. She should feel like she’s telling the truth not out of compulsion, but out of pain.”
“It’d be the truth regardless,” Elara said, confused.
“Yes, but her time in the dungeon has not broken her. I need you to break her completely. Tomorrow at her trial, I do not want her forming a coherent sentence. Understand?”
“Yes, Headmaster.”