Mistfall (29 page)

I couldn’t believe it. He had furthered the
torture of already lost souls. Even Iblis, one of the nine kings of
Hades, wasn’t even that demented.

Instead of Abel’s usual venom at my verbal
barbs, he merely laughed at me. The look on his face screamed
predator. “Enjoy your jokes at my expense Magdalene. You will soon
learn your place. I think now is as good a time as any for your
first lesson.”

Abel turned on his heel, gestured to the
smoky outlines of the wraiths and headed downstairs. The wraiths,
six in number, closed in on me. The burning increased tenfold. It
felt like the ground had split open and Hades had swallowed me. I
screamed out in pain again, taking the torment for as long as I
could.

I now knew what it meant to be burnt alive.
Though it was only in my head, I could feel my skin pucker and fry
in the wraith’s inferno. Every time I breathed in, fire would cause
the delicate tissues of my mouth and throat to sizzle. It only took
minutes of this before my mind disconnected from my body and shut
me down, breaking the scorching cycle of pain.

A voice pierced my muddled brain. “Throw her
over there for now,” it ordered.

Another slower, less intelligent sounding
voice answered. “Boss said not too. Said she’s dangerous.”

“She doesn’t look to dangerous right now does
she?” the first voice responded.

I was dropped to the ground by the oaf. It
was dark and I couldn’t see, though I did hear voices coming from
everywhere. That was a good thing. It meant I was not in another
oubliette. I wanted to lift my head and look around, but I was
still too weak and passed out before I had the chance.

I was being lifted into a seated position the
next time I woke. Someone was trying to get me to drink. I don’t
remember if I did or didn’t drink what I was offered. What I did
remember was a soothing man’s voice persuading me to sleep.
“Sleep,” he said. “Sleep.” The second time he urged me to sleep I
found myself agreeing with him that it was an excellent idea.

“Wake up miss,” the man’s gentle voice
spoke.

My eyes fluttered open in response.

“That’s a good girl, now drink up.”

I found myself once again in a seated
position. The man holding me up brought a cup to my parched lips. I
drank greedily, sucking down the cool, refreshing liquid.

“Slow down now miss. You’ll be sick if you
drink it too fast,” the man scolded.

“Mags,” I whispered since my voice still raw
from screaming.

“My apologies. I called you Magdalene the
last time we spoke. Do you remember?”

I turned my head to see who was caring for
me. I was met with the countenance of the gypsy I had left behind
when I escaped the oubliette days ago (or two weeks depending on if
you were with me or not). He appeared to be in his sixties, though
it was hard to tell.

Gypsies don’t follow the rules as far as
human or Otherworlders are concerned. The man who was nursing me
back to health could be sixty-seven or two hundred years old. There
some who lived normal human life spans. Rarely did they live the
lengthy lifetimes of Otherworlders. For the most part, they lived
somewhere in-between.

The man had salt and pepper hair. His skin
was dark tan and weathered from years of living and toiling in the
outdoors. Twice now I’ve seen this man and yet I didn’t even know
his name.

“My name is Elijah,” he responded to my
thoughts.

I raised a suspicious eyebrow at him.
“Psychic?”

Elijah laughed at my observation. “I’ve been
called many things. But yes, I think psychic will do for now.”

I made an attempt to hold myself up, but my
arms were as strong as that of a newborn at the moment. Elijah held
me down easily, keeping me from doing my body any more harm.

“Not yet Mags,” he told me. “It takes awhile
to recover from the wraith magic you’ve absorbed. Think of it as a
magical hangover.”

I acquiesced. Holding my eyes open more than
a few seconds would be my win for now.

I finished drinking the contents of the cup.
Elijah told me it was water and a little bit of magic. It was
Fae-tinged magic that was for sure. There was a sweet, flowery
taste to it that made me feel all warm and comfy inside. Elijah
then told me to sleep and once again I felt persuaded that he was
right and slumbered peacefully.

This routine went on for a few days while I
recovered. Elijah never left me for too long while I was conscious.
He’d wake me long enough to drink the magical mystery water and
make short conversation. Every day I felt a little bit
stronger.

Eventually I was strong enough that Elijah’s
psychic persuasion was waning in its power over me. I was alone in
my cell the next time I woke.

“Elijah?” I called out.

I received a response, but not the one I
wanted.

“Shut up girly,” said one of the prison
guards whose voice I remembered from the day I was brought down
here. “There’s no talking down here.”

“I didn’t know,” I replied honestly.

The gruff Elf was ugly as sin. I would almost
call him deformed, but all his parts were in the right places.
Growths sprouted all over his face and his hair only grew in
cottony tufts. The Elf’s teeth were crooked as well. It was almost
as if he had poured a handful of Chiclets in his mouth. Knowing the
kind of bastard Abel is, I guessed the man was employed as a prison
guard so he’d be kept out of public view.

“I woulda told ya the rules, but ya sure can
sleep,” he laughed.

I stood up in my cell, finding I was a bit
wobbly on my feet. I walked the few steps to the bars and held onto
them to steady myself. “Well, I’m awake now. So who are you and
what are the rules?”

“The guard came close enough I could smell
his breath. All I can say is that working for Abel does not come
with a dental plan. Rotting corpses smelled better than this guy’s
breath. I took a few steps back and used one of the walls for
support instead.

“My name’s Seamus. My brother is the other
guard. His name is Barra,” Seamus informed me.

Making nice with the guards would only
benefit me in the long run, so I gave Seamus my nicest smile. “It’s
nice to meet you Seamus.”

He snorted at what he thought was a joke. “I
doubt it seein’ as yer down here.” He pulled out a piece of dirty
yellow paper from one of his pockets and unfolded it. Once he
realized he was trying to read it upside down he flipped it to the
right side and cleared his throat. “The rules,” he began, “are as
follows: No talkin’, no singin’, no trouble makin’, and no magic.”
He paused to look at my wrists. “I don’t think I have ter worry
about the no magic rule wit ya though.”

Oh this guy’s just a regular comedian
,
I thought and rolled my eyes. I knew I had no magic. I had known it
for days. On my wrists were the same cuffs John and Melissa had
been bound with the last time I saw them. I was now a magical mute.
This little roadblock was going to make my next escape harder. It’s
just a good thing that I like a challenge.

“I have to report to tha Aelfadl Cap’n that
yer awake. I ‘spect tha King will be sending fer ya soon,” Seamus
informed me.

Whoop-dee-do.
“Give Luca my love,” I
replied sarcastically.

“Well that’s enough out of ya,” Seamus
advised. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he mumbled under his breath,
so low that I almost didn’t hear him.

That was a good sign in my book. Seamus’s
little lapse of humanity could be useful later on. Right now I
needed a distraction. I was trying to avoid thinking about John or
Melissa. I wasn’t ready to deal with the heartache yet.

Pushing myself as far against the bars as I
could, I tried to find Elijah. There was very little light down in
the dungeon, making it hard to see.

“I’m behind you,” Elijah snickered.

I swung around to see Elijah standing in the
middle of my cell. “There’s more to you than meets the eye,” I
chuckled.

“I’ve been told that from time to time,” he
replied winking playfully at me.

Elijah handed me the same cup he had given me
every day since my arrival. “I don’t think you need my help
anymore. With the healing that is.”

I smiled at the old man. “I’m almost back to
one hundred percent. Thank you by the way.”

“It was nothing,” he said, patting me on the
shoulder. “We help each other down here. It’s how we survive
Abel.”

I drank the contents of the cup, thinking
about Elijah’s words. Twice now this man had come to my aid and I
had given him nothing in return. Elijah should hate me since I left
him down here the last time I went for a jog through the dungeons.
As an Otherworlder, I was a part of the political machine that had
ostracized and shunned his people. Yet here he was, a selfless man,
helping his enemy. I felt awfully humbled by my thoughts.

Elijah reached out and retrieved the empty
cup from my hands. “You have a kind soul,” he remarked.

I was surprised at first when he told me
that. Even though others can read my general feelings I wasn’t used
to Elijah being able to read my thoughts.

“I can’t stay long,” he told me as he walked
to the front of my cell. “It’s dangerous for us to move about down
here during the day. I will return later.”

Elijah was at the cell door when he turned
around. “My gift of persuasion will not work on you too much
longer, but I can offer you a day’s numbness from your pain,” he
offered.

Sometimes a psychic could be an annoying
know-it-all. In this case, having Elijah’s help was a blessing. I
had wanted diversion and Elijah offered it freely.

“Please,” I asked as I walked towards him. “I
just can’t handle it right now.”

He took my hands in his old gnarled ones.
“You don’t have to explain it to me. Be at peace.” With that, he
disappeared into thin air. There was no trace that he had just been
here moments before.

A calm washed over me. The tension and
heartache were still there, but it was more like background noise
now. This place was not where I wanted to bawl my eyes out. On a
couch with ice cream and feel good movies was a far better place to
have a meltdown.

Hopefully I would make my out of here, again.
Then I could find somewhere safe to hole up and deal with my
emotions. In the meantime, I was going to use Elijah’s last gift of
persuasion to my advantage and plan my escape.

I sat down on the ground wishing I had a pen
and paper to write things down. It was a good thing I had a pretty
good memory. Mental notes it was.

From my previous escape I remembered that the
dungeon was not as well guarded as it should have been. I wasn’t
too sure I could count on that this time around. Abel may be
arrogant, but he does learn from his mistakes.

The prison guards only numbered two. The one
I spoke with didn’t seem too bright. He ordered the other one
around. I was hoping he was the brighter of the two brothers. I
wondered if it was possible to exploit their physical and mental
handicaps to my advantage. It was a cruel thought, but necessary to
consider.

I also remembered my previous route through
the mountains and decided that it would be best to use it again. I
could count on the path to sabotage my pursuers. There were two
destinations I would need after that.

First I would need to go to the Fae village.
Counting on Aurora’s guilt over their breech in security, I was
hoping they’d allow me passage through their portal to Elemental
Deep. I would need the Dwarves to fashion a key to release me from
my bonds so I could regain my magic. After that, I could use the
Dwarves’ tunnels to go anywhere.

When it came down to it, I didn’t know much.
I realized that my escape would take longer than possible this
time. I would have to wait and bide my time if I wanted to be
successful. Alternate routes, security info, and manpower numbers
were just a few of the things I needed to find out.

As I was finishing up my to-do list I was
visited by one of the items on my to-kill list. Luca was standing
in front of my cell, giving me a look of pity.

“How are you doing?” he asked honestly.

I looked up at him from the ground as if he
were insane. “Best. Day. Ever. Seriously Luca, you should try this
sometime.”

He ran both of his hands through his straw
colored hair. Something was bothering him. It was written all over
his face like a big neon sign. “Stupid question, huh?”

I giggled. “Yeah, pretty dumb. On the bright
side, you’re not in the number one spot. Iblis and your father are
tied for first in that category.”

Luca ignored my sarcasm, turned his head and
looked down both sides of the corridor. Finding the area clear, he
turned back to me. “Mags, I need you to come closer,” he
hissed.

I had turned my attention to the damp straw I
was braiding and twisting into a rope (FYI, you can fashion a
weapon out of anything. One only needs to have a creative
mind.).

I silently laughed at his request, amused by
its idiocy. “Why? So you can sucker punch me while I’m already
down?” I sat down the small length of rope, stood up, and walked
over to him. “You’re a funny boy Luca. You seem to have gotten your
father’s sense of humor.”

He flinched at my barb, which I thought was a
bit unusual coming from the heir to the throne. I honestly thought
Mr. Dead Wrong came down to the dungeon to give me a beating. Abel
had an image to uphold after all.

Luca sighed in defeat and opened my cell.
“The King requests you to join him for brunch,” he ordered
reluctantly.

Under normal circumstances I would’ve already
become hostile. Thanks to Elijah, that hostility was transformed
into a general nonchalance. My sarcasm, however, was free to run
amok. “Gee, I’m a bit busy today,” I told Luca while thumbing
through the pages of my invisible schedule. “Do send your father my
regards though and let him know he can drop by the next time he’s
in the neighborhood.”