Page 73 of Spark of Madness

“You’re quite bold for a servant trapped in a cave,” I tell her.

She chuckles. “I’m not a servant; I’m asinner.”

A smile spreads across my cheeks at her banter, as she throws my own words from previous conversations back at me.

“Is that where we are?” Delle asks. “In a cave?”

“Nearly,” Theo says. “These underground tunnels lead to a cave system that runs through the mountains.”

“We’re going to the mountain?” Delle asks with a hint of childlike wonder in her tone.

I remember the first time I was brought through these tunnels and shown the caverns. It was shortly after I moved into the Homestead my first year as a member of the Control two years ago. I was filled with wonder, too, and my mind overflowed with poetry depicting the beauty of the Earth. I was filled with awe over God’s creation, and the fact that I was chosen to be one of the few to bear witness to it.

Perhaps I should feel bad that a sinner is allowed to see it now, except I don’t. It somehow feels okay that she sees it, it feels right. Perhaps a part of me hopes that seeing it will trigger her sense of awe and return her lost reverence for God and his creation.

A ten-minute walk through winding tunnels brings us to a wide open cavern. Towering high above our heads, stalactites hang from the ceiling as pointed cones of natural rock pointing down at us. The solid rock beneath our feet creates a flat, winding path through the same coned rocks that jut up from the ground surrounding us in rows and clusters of stalagmites.

Between the points of hanging stalactites and rising stalagmites is vast, open space, and it’s filled with nothing but echoing darkness. It’s eerie and ethereal all at once, and it never ceases to take my breath away.

“Oh…” Mercy breathes out the sound of wonder on a sigh, and I somehow feel relief in knowing she sees the same beauty I see here.

“This is incredible,” Delle’s small voice echoes with excitement.

“It is,” I agree.

I lead us along a flat, narrow path of bedrock that years of men traversing have flattened out neatly between stalagmites. The flat path leads us across the open cavern to another tunnel, and a sharp turn to our right stops us in front of a large boulder.

Only the boulder isn’t real.

I hand the torch to Theo, grip the false rock with both hands, and easily slide it sideways. Behind it is an opening to a space I’ve often retreated to be alone with my thoughts.

“Follow me,” I tell them, taking the torch back from Theo and ducking my head to creep into the short tunnel.

A few steps take me into the grotto, a carved-out space as large as my bedroom and as dark as night. My torchlight sets a glow that allows me to circle the space, finding the three torches I’d fixed to the rock walls a long time ago, lighting each in turn. Two at the sides, one at the back, and a fourth spot at the front wall where I place the torch I carried in with me.

The space is dimly lit from the firelight with a shadowed, flickering glow. As Mercy makes her way inside, turning to reach behind her to help Delle through the small opening, her short tresses still shine as brightly as the stars.

What demonis within her that calls to me so loudly?

I drop my messenger bag and crouch to my haunches to open it, pulling out several lengths of coarse rope and drop them heavily onto the rock floor.

“What’s that for?” Mercy asks behind me.

I stand and turn to face her. “Preparation. It’s the reason I’ve brought you here.” I look at Theo. “The reasonwe’vebrought you here.”

Mercy’s head inclines as she looks at me pensively. “Preparation for the trials?”

“The first trial,” I confirm with a nod.

Staring down at the rope, she fidgets with her hair, dragging her fingers through the ends as if she could still stroke the phantom length I cut. Then she hugs herself, her eyes telling me that she’s trying to retreat. Delle sucks in a quick, shaky breath just behind her, and it snaps Mercy from her retreat. She lets go of herself and reaches her arm back, turning her head over her shoulder to find Delle’s hand and grabs hold of it.

It’s bewildering the way the demon in her mind relents and allows her compassion for Delle. Perhaps Mercy’s compassion is simply so strong that no devil or demon could overpower it. The thought stirs a flurry of extra beats through my heart.

I clear my throat and pull back my shoulders to stand a little taller. “I’ve been tasked with binding you for the trial. I think it’s fair that we have some practice with what that’s like beforehand.”

Mercy takes a step back, pushing Delle behind her as she moves. “We’re not meant to endure a trial twice. I won’t allow you to bind us here.”

“You will allow it if you want to be prepared.” I try to appeal to her protectiveness of Delle. “You’ll allow it so Delle will know what to expect and won’t panic in the moments before her trial begins.”

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