Page 26 of High Stakes

Atop the gate, someone stirred. “Who goes there?”

I held my hands up so he could see that I wasn’t armed. “Please, I’ve come from Edenshire. I was told I might find shelter here.”

“Have you any fever?”

“No. No fever.”

Any swelling under your arms?” he asked.

“No.”

“Any black boils?”

Good grief. “No, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Then you are most certainly lucky, Madam. Lord Enoch just today decreed that tomorrow the gates will be sealed until this plague has passed.”

Kael, you clever bastard.

“Keep clear of the portcullis.”

He gave a sharp whistle and the wooden portcullis in front of me slowly began to rise. The sharp iron teeth at the bottom released their bite on the earth and swallowed me in their shadows as I ducked beneath them. I walked under a stone arch, only to be met with the sharp point of an arrow aimed at my head. To my left, another archer aimed at my heart. A third archer appeared to the right, his arrow still loosely nocked, but his eyes and fingers ready. As the portcullis slammed closed behind me, the earth underfoot vibrated from the impact.

“Follow me,” a man barked as he approached from behind the archers.

“What have I done?”

He spat at my feet, and I had to quickly step back to avoid being hit by the phlegmy glob. “To the dungeons with ye, until we’re certain you’re well.”

The archers kept their distance, leading me across a grassy lawn where a trap door rose from the earth. A man wearing a similar bird mask as the one who told me to come here hefted the weight of it with his shoulder. “This way,” he instructed, waving me forward with a hand-held torch and offering me a hand as I stepped down into the darkness, gingerly placing one foot in front of the other. Cobwebs stretched and broke as he lifted the door higher so I wouldn’t hit my head.

I walked toward him. This man was tall, like the one I’d met along the road in Edenshire. He’s even wearing a similar suit…Wait. In the firelight, I saw the same design embroidered across the fabric. It was the same man.

“How did you beat me here?” I asked curiously, but he studiously ignored the question.

“Where are your shoes?” he asked instead. “It’s too cold to be without them.”

We were talking about my feet now?

He guided me to the landing, the firelight casting flickering shadows on the rough, stone walls as he led me through the damp, dank corridor and further into Enoch’s dungeon. It smelled of mildew and mold, excrement and blood.

But it didn’t smell like Edenshire had. It didn’t smell like death and rot.

I needed time to think, and my legs and arms felt wooden and weak. This was an opportunity, I decided. An opportunity to rest and learn what I could about Lord Enoch in this day and time. I’d gather information and strategize how best to kill him.

Most of the cells we passed were empty, but a wild-eyed man huddled into the corner of one on my right leapt up when he saw me, channeling more energy than a human should possess. He plastered himself against the iron bars that held him, reaching out for me. I backed up against the bars on the other side of the aisle, but the space was narrow. The man in the bird mask wheeled around, illuminating the man’s grimy fingers.

The wild-eyed man clawed at me as he let out a keening noise before beginning to giggle uncontrollably. “Touch me! Touch me. I want the plague!” he shrieked. “Put me out of my misery, please. Please!” Sweat beaded on his brow. Frantically, he scrabbled at my shawl, catching the end of it and surprising us both when he yanked me toward him.

The bird-faced man stepped forward to intervene, but I tore my shawl away from the prisoner and stepped far enough back that he couldn’t reach me again. He didn’t look like the bodies in Edenshire. There were no black boils bubbling up on his skin, but his eyes looked glassy and yellow where they should’ve been white, like he was suffering from a terrible fever.

“Come along,” the man in the mask prodded. I followed him, happy to put distance between the crazed man and myself.

“Does he have the plague?” I asked when we were far enough away.

The strange man answered, “I’m afraid not. What ails him can’t be cured.”

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