Page 57 of Cry for Help

Murmur’s lips pursed, and he stopped walking, his hand resting on the door. “I don’t want you to see it.” His voice was strained. “But there are Sídhe in that room. They need help. That is why I brought you here when I really shouldn’t have.”

“Sídhe?” I signed. “Here?”

Sídhe were rare. I had never encountered another, save for my mother. There were many types of Fae, from the Durrach to the Wild Fae, but Sídhe wererare, especially in the Human Realities.

I steeled myself. I had to see it. I had to help them.

I’d done lots of wrong things in my life, but I would have never forgiven myself if I didn’t try. My mother had died alone, and my foster parents had died in pain.

I’d seen so much death.

The grass verge at the edge of the prison was filled with unmarked graves; several I had seen happen in person at the mercy of Sugar—the drug. Some suicides. Some murders. But they had been easy to ignore in a way. I’d shut myself off in prison. I’d left my body behind and coasted, waiting until the day I would be free. If that ever came.

Now, I was walking around without chains and had a chance tohelp.

Murmur and I crept around the bend of the room. The Fae magic was thick but tainted in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach, like unending corruption, something familiar that had been twisted beyond recognition.

Demon magic smelled like ozone, but Fae magic smelled like the forest.

This magic stank of rot. Of blight on the land and blood on the ground.

It looked like a dining room at first. A long table extended the room's length, with chairs pushed haphazardly aside as if everyone had left in a hurry. The table legs yawned with the weight of the food piled high on silver platters. Much fresher than the offerings smeared around the rest of the mansion.

Two large platters on the table, one after the other, sat in the center of the monstrous display of gluttony. At first it looked like piles of fresh meat, an animal that had been torn into with bare hands, uncooked, as the main dishes of the feast. Each platter boasted a different shape of meat, but I didn’t recognize the animal. Beef? Too small. Pork? The limbs were too long, bent, and twisted until they sat flush with the bulk of the animal.

Then I smelled it. The copper patina of Sídhe blood.

As I approached the table, the meat opened its eyes. White in a sea of red. Their face was missing most of its skin, taken in strips like jerky.

I recognized those eyes. The prisoner at the gauntlet, the one given special treatment and taken away before we had gone to auction. She opened her mouth and let out a groan, her throat torn to strips.

I stepped away, falling over a chair as I bent over at the waist and emptied the contents of my stomach to the floor. I wiped my tears with my hand, struggling to breathe.

I’d been in prison with another Sídhe and had never even known. I recognized the scent of her blood but not her creed. She had no skin. Pieces of her stomach and her buttocks were missing. One leg was gone completely.

The other platter. I staggered down the table. This one was dead but less… molested. Her eyes were open, cloudy, and staring. Her lips parted, and the skin on her face was bloody but intact.

I remembered her. The one that had taken my place, with a smug smirk. Stealing whatever special treatment she hadexpected me to receive. Inmate Peck. I didn’t even know her first name.

I turned to Murmur. “This is what you wanted to show me?” I didn’t bother signing. I couldn’t summon the energy to even lift my hands. “You could have saved them. They arefresh. If you found them last night, you should have saved them.”

Murmur stood rigidly, his eyes fixed on the table. “I tried.”

“You tried?” I sneered. “These women came from the same prison I did! They came to the Red City on the same bus. How many more have died, just like this, because of the demons?”

“Careful, Maddie.” Murmur narrowed his eyes.

“We need to get them out here.” I rubbed my hand over my mouth, swallowing back the excess saliva.

“They’re gone,” Murmur told me.

“She’shuman, not Sídhe.” I waved a hand to Inmate Peck. “The other one over there is stillalive.”

“Alive?” Murmur echoed in horror. He approached the table, and the mangled Sídhe released a pained gurgle. “Fuck. You’re right. We have to get her out of here.”

“Can you do anything for her pain?” My eyes burned with tears as the Sídhe met my eyes again. She tried to shake her head, but she couldn’t move. I stepped forward, reaching out for her hand. Her fingers were gone, leaving bloody stumps at her knuckles. I felt the whisper of her death as it came. I felt it built in my throat—the scream.

I couldn’t warn Murmur without letting go of her hand. I didn’t want to do that.

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