8. Chapter 7

Father"s company built most of the new homes and businesses in Thorn Row. It even helped with the blueprints for the layout of its latest industry, the markets.

Travelers and merchants were already passing through the town. It"s at the center of Stone, and every road passes through it. The only way to get from Flora to Fauna is through this city. The noble families made sure they would make money from its travelers. Now, Thorn Row is the largest city in Stone. Its largest export, dahlia roses, a peace offering from Flora. Its largest import, the coins from travelers" pockets.

Unfortunately, the markets are taxed so they make just enough to stick around, and the rich, like my family and families alike, profit.

They escort me down a dark set of stone stairs. The air becomes heavy and stale, mixed with the smell of old alcohol.

Kirian takes me by the arm, one of his men takes the other. My hands are still bound, and my wrists burn with every pull.

The men lead me to the farthest corner in the dim maze of cells, close enough to the door but not down one of the corridors I see that lead to God"s know where.

There are thick walls on each side and a barred door at the front. Offering both isolation and a constant reminder of the presence of others. Every noise echoes off the brick.

I make sure to glance through the bars of every cell we pass, looking for Father. There are only men snoring on their cots or huddled over buckets as they release the booze from their stomachs after a drunken night.

Amidst the groans and snores, my eyes met hollow gazes and vacant stares, along with hungry smiles as if I am a piece of meat when they realize that I was a sheep in wolf"s clothing, a woman amongst men.

Kirian releases me and takes a few steps back. He did not so much as make a noise as we walked before criminals and drunks. He continues his silence as one of his men shoves me into the cell, making me trip over myself without the balance of my bound hands. Unable to catch my fall, I crash to the ground, my hands outstretched but crushed beneath the weight of my body. Kirian only clears his throat before closing the door behind me and locking it with a large set of jingling keys.

The other man instructs me to stand. He pulls out a curved knife and motions for me to come closer. Kirian still doesn"t look at me. He keeps his eyes forward, a statue. But I watch him. As the man taps the metal, motioning for me to set my hands between the bars, I do not flinch as he sloppily cuts the rope. Neither does Kirian. He is emotionless. I only look away from him to rub at the angry crimson welts that now occupy the skin around my wrists.

Then, they walk away. The sound of their boots slowly becomes quieter with the distance before they are cut off by the closing of a large wooden door, its hinges squealing before slamming shut.

Time escapes me, no doubt why they make sure the cells are located underground, no light.

One man yells at the guards for more blankets, and I feel the drop in temperature. I believe it"s well past midnight now. The man continues to complain about the cold, but the guards do not open the door or even give him an answer. Soon the man"s pleas become less and less until finally they stop altogether.

No one is across the way from me, granting me a sliver of privacy. Perhaps it was meant as kindness, although it doesn"t feel like it. The other cell is empty, just dark enough for eyes and teeth to appear any minute now. I slide to the end of the cot and place my head on my hands, resting my elbows on my knees.

Refusing to fall asleep, I stare at the empty cell for a long time, waiting. Soon, just when I think the Shadows will not make an appearance, they become tangible, moving and grasping at the empty spaces around them.

I fall backward, letting my legs dangle over the edge. As time passes, I let the cold spread over my body. I don"t pull the blanket over myself or pull my legs to my chest for warmth.

The Shadows whisper to me, I open my ears to them but do not let them know I pay them attention. Not much of it makes sense, all but one word that is. Come, they say from beyond the bars. I roll over onto my side and close my eyes, listening to the in and out of my breathing and not their demands. Soon they stop, replaced by the shuffling of men and dripping of water somewhere far off.

A few meals come and go, all brought to me by a woman, a servant. She wears a uniform of royal blue and a white bonnet that keeps her blond hair off her face. I am reminded of Lupita as I look at the notch missing from her ear. Oh, how disappointed in me she would be. I try talking to the woman as she slides a meal between two horizontal slats in the bars. She does not answer, adding to the loneliness of confinement.

As she walks off, I follow her with my eyes. She smiles once at my neighbor before putting her head down and walking quickly to the door.

When the door opens for her, I try to get a glimpse at the soldier on the other side. Still, I run out of room at the end of my cell, only able to see a muscular arm as they pull the heavy door closed after her.

My food grows cold as I pick through the stew and take a bite of very stale bread before discarding it on the floor to be retrieved next mealtime.

I lose count of the meals brought to me, leaving me unsure of how many days have passed. I pull the thin pillow around my ears so I do not have to listen to the scrape of wood on metal as the woman exchanges one plate for the other. I disregard the food altogether. Leaving it to either be eaten by mice or picked up by the woman. My belly growls with hunger, but my appetite is not there. I feel only a knot in my stomach as I think about what will happen next.

When all I can hear are the snoring of men and the same incessant plop of water on brick, I assume it"s night again. My eyes feel heavy, but I do not sleep for long. When I do, my dreams are filled with terrifying portrayals of monsters and men who find me no matter where I hide.

As I lay on the bed, humming away my thoughts, I listen as the door opens and then shuts. This happens often. Sometimes, the guards check on us, walking back and forth. Some inmates mumble under their breath at the soldier with the task of interrupting their sleep. At first, I searched each of their faces. Hoping that one would eventually be Kirian. Then I could ask him why I am here, what I"m here for. Although I"m not certain I will like the answer.

A memory pops into my head. One where Lupita spoke of those who suffer from this particular affliction. The one that has plagued me my whole life. Little did she know that I suffered the same ailments she spoke of. A woman who had gone mad and started to see things that were not there. I promised never to reveal myself to her or anyone after hearing of what happens. Magic or not, it is enough to be put away for life or worse.

This time, when footsteps stop at the end of the hallway, and I do not hear their usual retreat back to the door, I am surprised when it is Kirian. He stands behind the bars, waiting. I immediately stand and go to him, ignoring the lightheadedness that almost makes me reach for the wall. The drumming in my chest settles as I near him for reasons I cannot explain.

The bars are cold, and I hold two between each hand. Kirian keeps his distance on the other side. "Why are you here?" I whisper weakly when he does not say anything.

Kirian seems to be contemplating his following words. "I need to ask you a few questions." His voice is low. I remain silent as I wait for him to continue. "Why were you talking to The Spent?" He pushes his eyebrows together as he tries to make sense of it.

I share his confusion. He already asked me about Claire. I didn"t go there wanting to talk to what Kirian refers to as The Spent. I don"t even know who The Spent are. I was looking for answers, and she was the first person I came across. House of Hades, I didn"t even want to speak to her. She stopped me.

"Father"s illness, it was a last resort. I was searching for a magical healer." I give him a half-lie. I really was looking for answers about Father. I admit, I was not all that interested in a healer. It was a selfish trip meant to tell me more about my Mother and his sickness was second on the list.

"Don"t lie. Please don"t lie to me. I am trying to help you, Katsia." His voice is low so as not to wake anyone, but it"s still a scolding. I snap my head up at his words, prepared to say something. What? I do not know. So, I close my mouth and wrap my arms around my stomach. I take a few backward steps back until my legs hit the metal. I sit down slowly, afraid that my legs will give out from under me if I do not rest them immediately.

He looks at me expectantly, but I shake my head at him, letting him know that I have nothing more to say. "I"m on your side," he said to me before, but I don"t believe it, he brought me here. He tricked me. He is not on my side.

His gaze softens before he continues, "Claire. Did she provide any magical services for you?"

"Like what?" I lift my head and realize that my body is shaking. This feeling is overwhelming, and unfortunately, I have been experiencing it far too often.

"An incantation." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Did she give you anything, anything at all?" he asks quietly, strained even.

"She read my palm. I think. I"ve never had it done before." I tell him truthfully.

"Well, that"s just the surface of her abilities." He scoffs in frustration before moving on. "If you know where your Father is, I suggest you tell me." My Father? He"s not here already? I assumed they had already arrested him. My face contorts in confusion as he continues. "Tell me, Katsia. The next man will not be so gentle with getting the truth." I stand at his threat, barely avoiding the crushing weight of my own body. He just looks at me like a wounded, helpless animal. I hate it, but as I look down, I see the reality of what I am. Caged and scared.

"If I knew where he was, I would tell you." It comes out louder than intended. As I take one more step I let my forehead rest against a rusted bar, my breath comes out strangled before I speak the following words "I don"t know where he is." I plead. Please believe me. I just want this to be over with. When I look up at him, he steps forward and crosses his arms in front of his large body. Contemplation on his face as we hold each other"s gaze for a few long seconds "Fuck." he says under his breath, shaking his head.

Does he think that I knew and was just not saying anything? He wants me to trust him, but he just now came to the conclusion that I might actually be telling the truth?

"What did he do?" I ask softly as he uncrosses his arms to run his hands through his hair, a habit I have noticed he often does.

He looks to the right, down the corridor of cells, back the way he came. His jaw clenches before he starts in that direction. "Just tell me why I am here" I try when he takes another step.

Without looking at me, he stops. "What your Father did…" he thinks of his response more before continuing. "He"ll be hung for his crimes. If we can find him, that is." He lets out a heavy breath, still keeping his eyes on the door. "As for you," he sighs, "Suspicion of unregulated magic." My heart sinks. This disgusting thing that others are calling magic. The darkness grows around me as I think of it, I ignore them.

"Look at me," I beg. Kirian does not so much as move an inch. I close my eyes to keep the tears at bay. "I- I"ve never- "The words do not come out. They were all going to be lies anyway.

The pain in my stomach almost makes me double over. I grip the bars with all my strength to hold myself up. I wait for him to move again, but he doesn"t. He stays. I wish he would. I wish for a lot of things. I wish he had never seen me with his bow in the garden that day. I wish I never went to Thorn Row in search of answers. I wish I were dead.

"Why did you stay there? In that castle? I saw it. It was"— he thinks of what to say next. "I"m sorry you had to do that." Pity, pity, pity. I can"t do this anymore. I don"t want to deal with this, confinement, Kirian, everything.

"Don"t." I choke out as my eyes open to land upon Kirian"s. He is now studying me, his arms still crossed and his body angled for the door. He doesn"t say anything as he leaves. Something in me breaks as I watch him go. My eyes sting with the promise of tears, and my chest begins to pound so loudly that it drowns out every sound, including my own thoughts.

I give in, collapsing to my knees. The walls seem to close in on me. I crawl to the bucket in the corner, using my elbows to balance myself upon it. Then I retch, hoping that it would get rid of the knot that pulls at my insides, but the pain is still there. Not until I begin to shiver from the cold does that feeling go away.