Sparse echoes and muffled shouting come from somewhere in this labyrinth, and there are blocks of light that filter in through large open grates at the ceiling.
Even with that fresh air filtering in, the smell in here…well, it’s not great. I guess that’s to be expected. I probably don’t smell great either.
“Hey!”
I snap my attention over to another guard hurrying toward me. “What are you—”
My ribbons surge forward and wrap around his body before slamming him into the wall. I hear a woman scream in alarm behind the thick stone door of the next cell over.
My stomach seizes, eyes pinning to the guard. “Who’s the prisoner in that cell? Is it Emonie?” I demand, anxiousness tearing into my chest.
He sputters, and I let a few of the ribbons loosen from his neck so he can answer. “Fuck. You,” he spits.
I let out a growl of frustration, and my ribbonstoss him into my cell with Una and the other dead guard. Then my gold grabs the bottom of the door like curled knuckles, and shuts it firmly in place, locking him in.
Breathing hard, I look around, trying to come up with a plan. The size of this dungeon is overwhelming, but I can’t waste any time. I need to look for Emonie and Wick. If I can find them, I can ask them questions, and maybe more of my memories will untwist.
I need to check the cells.
Hurrying over, I stand in front of the door where I heard the muffled scream. But there’s a whole row of doors beyond too, and even more in the levels below. I need to be quick and quiet.
My gaze flashes down to where the gold sloshes at my feet, and an idea catches fire. Instantly, I direct some of my magic to narrow into a thin strip, and then let it sink into the lock of the door. As soon as the keyhole is plugged, the liquid metal hardens into the key.
Please work…
The key turns and the lock disengages. Excitement swells through me, and a smile bursts on my face as I shove the cell door open—
But it’s not Emonie inside.
The female fae is hunched in the corner, her face pale, clothes mere rags. She looks at me with fear.
“I won’t hurt you,” I tell her. “You’re free to go.”
She’s too scared to move with me standing here, so I head for the next door, my gathered gold streaming behind me. I stop and look down the line at the cells, and then I send my magic flowing all the way down the corridor. Once it reaches the end, the gold breaks off into several small cords, each one delving into the locks and snicking open the doors one after the other.
I stride forward, the golden armor over my torso and arms moving with me like a second—although far stronger—skin. I push the door open, searching for Emonie and Wick, but I find a skeleton inside instead, skin and sinew long gone.
At the next, there’s an old fae lying on his bed who looks at me with awe. “You’re free,” I tell him before hurrying on.
The next cell is empty, and the one after that too, but the following one holds a male with dark hair, and my heart leaps at the sight. Until he turns to fully face me and I see it’s not Wick.
This male has a different shaped face, and there’s a thick barb that’s been stabbed through his tongue. It hangs from his mouth, leaving him wordless. The female I find in the adjacent enclosure takes one look at the open door, leaps past me, and sprints away.
I don’t know why any of these prisoners are in here, whether it’s rightfully earned or not, but I don’t care. I’m not leaving until I check every room.
Rumbled footsteps come running, and I tense as more guards appear around the corner, probably tipped off by some of the escaping prisoners. I glance up, sizing them up, my magic readying. All six of them lift their weapons and charge toward me, their steps echoing throughout the dungeon.
“Where are Emonie and Wick?” I call.
The one at the front shouts back, “Arrest her!”
My lips pull into a sneer and my ribbons tense. “Go ahead and try.”
Their steps falter when I start sprinting toward them instead of running away. I see their expressions flash with concern just as I release my gold on them like a pack of wild dogs.
The guards might as well be holding their dicks instead of swords for all the good it does them. My gold races ahead andtackles their group to the ground, feasting on them with molten retribution.
As soon as they hit the floor, the gold solidifies, hardening their bodies beneath the shell. Their screams are muffled under the thick layer, bones knocking against the hollow trap.
