Chapter 2 - Lorelei

By now, I’d gotten used to the steady drip of water coming from a leaky pipe dangling in the corner of my cell. I sat cross-legged on the bed and threw pebbles against the far wall, trying to match the rhythm of the dripping water.

I stopped tossing rocks, my ear cocked as I listened to footsteps echoing outside, wondering if they were going to stop in front of my door again. I had no way of telling time beyond my internal clock, but it was probably about the right time.

The footsteps halted before anyone got to my cell. I slumped back, my shoulders relaxing. Something had changed in the last few days. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but it seemed I was no longer the only captive here.

The skin beneath the iron bands on my wrist chafed. I scratched around them, scowling down at them as if that would do any good. They weren’t even there as restraints. Iron neutralized magic, so I couldn’t cast any spells. Not that it mattered much; I wasn’t a particularly good witch. I doubted any of the scant amount of training I’d received would do anything against Inara or any of her inner circle. But I assumed they weren’t taking any chances.

Indistinct, gruff voices sounded from down the hall. I pricked my ears, trying to figure out what they were saying, but I couldn’t make out any individual words. And they stopped before I could discern anything.

The temporary excitement over, I resumed tossing rocks against the far wall. How many days had it been now? It had to be close to two weeks now. How much longer would I have until Inara changed her tactics and stopped playing nice? My guess was not much longer.

A shiver ran up my spine as I wondered what she might have in store for me. I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining my little cottage in the woods. I wanted nothing more than to go back and return to my old life, being on my own. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen until I gave Inara what she wanted, which was something I couldn’t do. I may not have been the biggest people person, but I didn’t care to condemn thousands of them to death, either. Which was exactly what would happen if I helped Inara.

Sighing, I threw another stone against the wall.

Footsteps sounded again. I stiffened, head swiveling toward the door as unease crawled up my spine and my stomach churned with unease. My heart thundered in my chest, and I hoped that whoever was coming would walk right past me again.

A figure appeared through the barred window as the footsteps stopped. The next sound that rang out was that of a bolt sliding back and then the scrape of the heavy metal door against the stone floor.

A tall, skeletal man stood in the doorway, his red hair thinning as he looked down at me, unsmiling.

“Come on, then,” Orin said.

I stayed where I was on the bed, glaring up at him.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “We’ve gone through this before. You know we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

My instincts screamed at me to continue rebelling. Except what good would it do? Any time I refused to move, he just forced my legs to start walking with a flick of his wrist. I desperately wanted to fight back, but even if I could match his power in terms of magic, there was nothing I could do.

Sighing, I pushed off the bed, letting the handful of gravel I’d been throwing fall to the ground with a clatter. It scattered across the floor, the skittering sound dying after bouncing off the cold stone walls.

“Smart choice,” he grunted as I stepped toward him. As usual, he grasped my arm and forced me ahead of him.

We walked down the hall, his hand gripping my shoulder, fingers digging into my flesh. I didn’t see the need for that beyond him liking to flex his power over me. I didn’t know my way around the den, and even if I did, they could drag me back at a moment’s notice. Running was about as effective as trying to catch water in a strainer.

Regardless, he kept his hand on me, steering me through the now-familiar path from my cell to the thick, red oak door with runes carved on its surface. Just like my cell, there was no handle or lock.

Orin knocked on the door. There was a short pause before the door swung open. The office behind the door was larger than it should be based on the exterior. A bubbling cauldron rested in an alcove. Shelves with elixirs in unnatural colors and jars with potion ingredients from lavender to eels lined the walls. Behind the ornate desk stood several bookshelves overflowing with spell and potion books and ancient tomes.

And sitting in the plush chair behind the desk was Inara, watching me as we walked inside.

Inara was unnaturally beautiful. Long, ash-blond hair that cascaded down her back framed a sharp, alluring face with wide hazel eyes and a full mouth. It wasn’t just her looks, though. There was a draw to her. Something about her just made you gravitate toward her, to want to say yes to her. It was no wonder she had drawn so many to her coven.

She glanced up, giving a demure smile that would have made men slit their own wrists for a chance to sleep with her. I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and trying to center myself. It would be so easy to fall under her spell. I had heard stories about her when I was a little kid, and I still felt that pull to please her. But I knew how dangerous she was. I had to force myself to remember that every time Orin dragged me in here.

“Lorelei,” she purred, looking at me like a cat would a mouse. “How are you doing? Still enjoying your accommodations?”

“As much as I have the last two weeks,” I said. Now that I was in a warm room, the inviting, crackling fire radiating heat, I was suddenly reminded of how cold my cell was. I rubbed my arms unconsciously.

Inara saw and gave a musical giggle. “Is your cell too cold?”

When I didn’t answer, her smile vanished, replaced by a harsh, thin line even more terrifying.

“When someone asks a question, it’s polite to answer,” she said, her voice poisonous. “Has all that time in your cell made you forget that? Or maybe simply staying in that cottage all on your own for over a decade turned you into a mannerless hag?”

I stayed quiet. Inara’s expression darkened as she glowered at my silent figure.

“If you are, there’s an easy way to change all that,” Inara said. “All you have to do is help me, and you’ll live in the lap of luxury the rest of your life. I’d make sure of it.”

I didn’t answer, instead continuing to stare at a spot above her head.

“Why so silent today?” Inara asked.

When I continued to stay silent, Orin jabbed me hard in the back so hard that I took a half step forward. I turned to glare at him.

“Answer her,” he growled.

“You could say please,” I muttered. “More flies with honey and all that.”

“I’ve always found you get the most flies with rotting meat,” Inara said conversationally. “Though I don’t really want to resort to that anytime soon.”

I gave a wry smile. “Those threats are hollow,” I said. “I know you can’t kill me. You need me.”

Instead of wiping the smirk from her face, my words only seemed to make it grow. “Maybe not death, but I could make you wish for it. You know I could.”

I did know. Inara had been a terror for a century, the witch that made those in fairy tales look harmless by comparison. I knew the horror story my parents had told me. I knew what she could do to me, and I knew what she wanted. The problem was, I couldn’t give it to her.

I sighed, then opened my mouth to say the exact same thing I had the last two weeks, ever since Orin and a handful of other witches had broken into my house and dragged me here.

“I don’t know how.”

She tutted. “I think you need to have more faith in yourself.” She stood and walked around the desk and stopped in front of me. One finger reached out and raised my chin so I was forced to look at her. The too-sharp nail dug into the soft underside of my jaw. “I’m sure you could open it if you tried. And think about how much better your life here would be if you helped.”

“I was never taught how to do it,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you. The knowledge was lost with my parents.”

“So you’ve said,” Inara said. “But that doesn’t mean we should give up. There are things we can try.”

“What is it you want in there, anyway?” I demanded. “Maybe if you told me, I’d be more willing to help you.”

She gave a sharp smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not going to come out and tell you, dear. What fun would that be?”

“Probably more fun for you, since I might have a better idea of what you need from me.”

“I need you to open the entrance, and that’s all.”

“What is it?” I asked, stubbornly jutting out my chin. “I’m not going to help you unless you tell me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not in a position to negotiate, dear,” she said. “Let’s just say retrieving it would be my crowning glory. People have died for it.” She leveled a stare at me, her gaze piercing. “And I’m not afraid to continue the tradition if it gets me what I need.”

I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, but my heart began to pound as realization dawned on me. My throat went dry. I knew what she wanted. I couldn’t let her know I’d figured it out, if only because it was the one advantage I had over her.

Inara tapped her chin as she studied me. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps you need a different type of incentive to help.”

“What type of incentive would that be?” I asked.

“I know you didn’t get the training you should have as a child,” she crooned. “I could train you, you know. I’ve been considering taking on an apprentice. If you help me, then I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t repay the favor.”

I sucked in a breath. I knew what she was offering: power, the chance to be at her right hand, to inherit her station whenever she died. I thought of all the things I could learn from her. All the suffering and bullying I’d gone through as a child. I’d be able to get revenge. I could have the world at my fingertips. I just had to give her whatever it was she wanted.

My parents’ warning echoed in my head, the sworn duty to protect what my family had guarded for decades, how even one of them in the wrong hands could wreak havoc on the world. I thought about all the damage Inara herself had done over the years, the chaos and devastation she always left in her wake. The deaths of humans, shifters, witches, whatever got in her way. Whatever she wanted, I was the last line of defense. If I gave her what she wanted, I’d be responsible for the deaths of who knew how many people. I couldn’t do that.

I looked into Inara’s eyes, and part of me desperately wanted to say yes. I hated that I had never gotten the right training, resented the fact that I had been born into a life I hadn’t asked for, and forced to guard something for the rest of my life. If I said yes, I could get everything I had ever wanted and be shed of the burden I was born with.

I just had to sell my soul.

“I don’t know how,” I repeated. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t help you. So go ahead and find someone else who can. Oh, wait—” I gave a feral, teeth-baring grin. “There isn’t anyone. I guess you’ll just have to figure out some other plan.”

Anger flashed in those alluring hazel eyes for the briefest of seconds. Then Inara smiled.

“You’ll change your mind eventually,” she said. “And we’ve got plenty of time. But you would make it easier on yourself the sooner you see sense.” She glanced up at Orin. “We’re done here. Take her back. I think a few days with no food might change her mind.”

That was my answer for when she’d start the punishments. I didn’t resist as strong fingers dug into my shoulder as Orin steered me back toward the door.

“Oh, and Lorelei?”

Orin spun me back around so I faced Inara as she spoke.

“I’ve been more than accommodating, but my patience is wearing thin. If you don’t agree to help me soon, I’ll resort to other, more unpleasant methods. You’ll be begging for the days when it was just no food.” She gave me a smile that would make milk curdle. “I’d suggest you change your mind before then.”

She made a shooing motion, and Orin led me away. I wanted to fight back. I desperately wanted to break away and make a dash for it, but Orin would simply drag me back with a flick of his hand. Even if I could access my magic right now, it wouldn’t do any good. I wasn’t a match for Orin. I’d figured that out the day he’d come to my house.

He’d stepped through my front door, breaking dozens of intricate wards my parents had created without breaking a sweat. I’d cast a spell that should have shoved him and the rest of them out of the house and a mile away, except it barely nudged him one step. He’d immobilized me like it was nothing and thrown the iron bands around my wrists while I remained frozen in place. Then, he and the others dragged me out of my house and brought me here. It hadn’t even been a challenge for them.

I swallowed the bitter resentment at my parents as it flooded through me. It wasn’t their fault they died before they had the chance to teach me. My power had only manifested a year before they suddenly died. They barely had time to teach me basic incantations, let alone whatever complicated conjuration it took to open the barrier. Besides, if they had, would it have changed my response to Inara? I wasn’t sure. Or maybe I wouldn’t be in this position at all. Maybe I’d have blown Orin and the others to smithereens in seconds.

I still missed my parents, not only because of the loss of their tutelage or the knowledge that was lost when they died but also for their own sake. They were what had kept me going for years, and then one day, they were gone, leaving me to deal with everything on my own.

My childhood hadn’t been particularly pleasant, even before my powers manifested and my parents died. We’d lived near a pack of shifters who had a prejudice against witches. They had either shunned us or taunted us, making it clear we were unwanted.

What made it worse was that the only school for miles was the one located in the pack itself. My parents insisted on my going to school despite this, which meant I was stuck for eight hours a day, five days a week, with people who hated me. During that time, the others made it perfectly clear what they thought of me. One of them in particular, Mark, seemingly made it his personal mission to torment me whenever possible. I never did find out why, and never really cared to, either. It didn’t change the fact that he’d called me names, and tripped me in the halls, and chased me through the woods as a wolf just to scare me on a number of occasions.

Eventually, I learned to ignore it as best as I could. It didn’t stop it, but it at least made it bearable until I was able to leave school entirely.

After that, all I had ever wanted was to stay home in my cottage. I wanted to keep to myself and not have to deal with anyone else. Which I was sure infuriated Inara. It’s hard to threaten a loved one when you don’t have anyone you care about and prefer to live in solitude.

That, at least, was the one nice thing about captivity. I was already used to being alone and happy to do so. I doubted Inara had anticipated that. I preferred being on my own. Solitary confinement wasn’t a punishment for me, though the cell was a downgrade from my cottage.

We walked along the row of cells. I heard shuffling sounds echoing from inside one of them. I turned my head, catching a glimpse of shifting shadows through one of the barred doors before Orin grabbed the back of my skull and forced me to look forward again.

I wanted to ask who else was here, but I knew I wouldn’t get an answer. So I stayed silent, allowing him to push me down the hall toward the very end, where my new home waited for me. He jerked me to a halt and spun me to face the door as it creaked open, revealing dark emptiness beyond.

Orin shoved me back into the cell, slamming the door behind me. The bolt magically locked into place, and Orin’s footsteps faded down the hall.

Alone again, I rubbed my shoulders and waited for my body to readjust to the cold. My stomach growled, and I wondered how long until Inara decided to give me a scrap of crust just to make sure I didn’t starve to death. I shoved the thought from my mind. It wasn’t going to do any good.

I ran my hand along the door, sensing the magic thrumming through it even though I couldn’t access it. I wasn’t a pessimist, but I was a realist. There was no way to pick the lock, no way to get out of my own accord. And no one working for Inara would dare help me. Unless someone came to rescue me, I was trapped here until Inara decided I wasn’t worth her time anymore, or until I caved.

And considering no one was coming to save me or even knew I was here, I was stuck here forever.

Eventually, I grabbed my rocks, clambered back onto the bed, and resumed tossing them against the far wall.