Page 107 of The Demon's Discovery
I tested a finger against the bars of my cell, getting a faint ache after a moment, but no further burn. Squatting down, I looked into the locking mechanism, but I had no idea what I was seeing. I had no skills as a lockpick. Carefully, I slid my new dagger out of my hidden sheath and pressed the tip into the raised piece inside keyhole. I was disappointed but not surprised when nothing happened.
The sound of someone passing through the locked gates echoed down the hallway. Flustered, I focused on shifting backto my human skin again, I couldn’t get my dagger back in the sheath. I sat on the dirty floor, carefully disguising it between the folds of my skirt.
A new man, a guard by the looks of his clothing and how many weapons he wore, appeared inside the circular room. He carried a tray with only a small cup of water and some bread on it. He did a double-take seeing me in the cell.
“I see he’s brought me another guest,” he said on a sigh, shaking his head. The guard went to one of the cells across from me, the one right next to where the hallway gate was. “Hey! You! Feeding time.”
After a pause, there was the sound of something dragging across the floor, then a pair of hands snaked shakily through the bars and took the bread and water.
The guard turned to leave and was already back to the gate before I found my voice.
“Excuse me?”
“What?” The guard sauntered to my cell, arms crossed.
“Could I please have some water?” The cough that followed was only partially for dramatic effect.
He raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. I didn’t at all care for the way he seemed to be trying to see through my clothing but maintained my polite smile. Without saying a word, he walked off and went back down the gated hallway. My hopes sank, the need for a drink only compounding on itself now that I had been so effectively denied.
I took the moments of his absence to put my dagger back into the sheath and examined my cell. To my surprise, the gate clanged once again, and he held a wooden cup through my bars.
“Thank you.” I took the cup gratefully, noting that his keyring was not only attached to his belt, but the keys themselves were tucked into his pocket. Any chance I had of grabbing them would be at risk of injury at the very least.
The guard gave a simple nod before going back out, locking up on his way. The scrape of his key in the locks and the heavy sounds of the gates closing settled in my chest with a sense of dread.
I sipped at the water, knowing if I gulped, I would regret it. The flavor was crisp, almost too clean, but it was cool and refreshing. I forced myself to stop halfway, not knowing when I’d be given more or if it was truly just water.
“I’m Greta,” I said to the shadows in the cell across from me. There was the sound of something shifting across the floor in response, which spurred me on. “I’m not sure exactly where we are, but I live in the city of Revalia, within the realm of Cyntere. Do you know where that is? I’d like to get back there as quickly as I can. There are people who will be looking for me.” I was met only by the sound of a gentle sniff. “How often does the guard come?” Silence. “I was attending my sister’s ball just a little while ago. I never even got to dance.” The words sounded so silly, so meaningless even as they came out of my mouth, but the layers of my reality were not fitting together, leaving me totally off balance. “I’m not… I’m not supposed to be here.” Emotion swamped me as my eyes filled with useless tears.
I breathed through the sadness, scolding myself. I needed to find some way out of the cell, out of the dungeon. I was too tired to shift back to stone, but I started to work at the lock again, pulling one of the two-pronged pins loose that Sara had used to style my hair. It fit well around the little knob that protruded out, but I needed more leverage. Pulling out another, I started talking again, deciding that even if the other prisoner didn’t want to answer, they were probably listening.
“Have you been here long?” The lock made a noise, and hope rose in a warm wave over me. I pressed against the door with my hip, but whatever I’d done wasn’t enough. “If I do manage to get out of this cell, is there a way I can open the gates?”
“Not without the keys.” The low voice was rusty, gravelly. “They each take a different one.”
I stopped what I was doing, peering as hard as I could across the room. He was still shrouded in shadows, but I could see what looked like a shoulder in the low light, covered in a tattered, dirty shirt.
“Could the guard be bribed?” I asked, swallowing hard. I didn’t have anything to trade except myself, and my weapons, none of which I was willing to part with. I would, however, be willing to offer either if it would make him open the door. After that, I could only hope I’d gotten good enough with my blade to be the one to make it out of here with his keys in my hand and his hands and sword kept to himself. The thought of killing a man left my stomach rolling, but it had become a very real possibility.
“Yes, but he won’t remain loyal. To you or his master.”
“And you?” I asked, suddenly worried that I’d said too much. What if the prisoner wasn’t really a prisoner? What if he was another fae, planted to see what I might do?
“I am loyal only to one woman. And you are not her.”
“That’s not what I was asking, actually, I?—”
He shifted closer to the bars, his whole upper body illuminated. His long hair was dirty, clumped in heavy strings. The way he had it tucked back revealed pointed ears and a pair of blue eyes that were startling in intensity but deeply shadowed in his gaunt face. His mouth opened as though he were going to speak again, but he made no sound, those bright eyes widening to the point of horror.
My hair pins fell to the floor, one bouncing several steps away on the outside of the bars.
“Saints,” I swore, struggling to catch my breath.
While he looked awful by all accounts, there was one feature that left my heart lodged firmly in my throat. He had a scar.One that ran across his face, from one temple, to just below the opposite ear.
Chapter 42
Greta
