Elvira blinks and steps out of the room. Once she’s gone I start the water and crank it to the hot position. The pipes clankand jump in the walls, the water coming out in spurts before turning into a weak but functioning stream.
I peel out of my clothes and step under the water. I don’t want to put dirty clothes back on, but at least I’m getting some of the grime off of me. The water, while lukewarm at best, feels amazing after being cooped up in that dingy room for who even knows how long.
I can feel it turning cool quickly, so I hurry to open the soap and wash myself, finishing with a quick wash of my hair. It’ll do for now. Just as the water turns icy, I shut it off and step out to grab the towel, noticing a stack of neatly folded clothes beside it that wasn’t there before.
Elvira’s a little perv.
I dry off and inspect the clothing, but as I realize what’s in front of me, my blood goes cold. It’s a shirt with my favorite band from when I was a teenager. Where on earth would my captor get a Panic! At the Disco shirt in exactly my size? In fact, it looks like the actual shirt. There’s also a pair of black skinny jeans. No underwear, but that’s fine. I can go without.
I dress quickly and towel dry my hair. No gel, but I guess I’ll deal with it. Just as I get my boots back on, I feel a strange tingle down my spine. Strange in that it feels familiar, like something I’ve interacted with before. It’s not Elvira. No. This is different, and it’s radiating from outside this room.
I’ve felt almost no magic abilities the entire time I’ve been here, but whatever or whoever is causing this reaction in me is drawing my skills to the surface. It can only be another magic user, but who? I can’t imagine who would be brave enough, or stupid enough, to attempt this.
Elvira appears suddenly, startling me. Her mouth opens as if she plans to speak, but instead of words a lone fly flutters past her lips. Nice.
“Who is my captor? When will I find out why I’m here?”
Elvira blinks several times but seems unable to speak.
“Is something wrong?”
“Room time,” she mutters.
I release a frustrated huff but nod as she slots the blindfold back into place. I don’t understand why I can’t see my surroundings, but there must be a good reason.
The closer we get to my cell, the more aware of Atlas I become. His presence is oddly comforting. He feels almost like something I haven’t had in a long time. A friend. Hopefully, his friends are on the hunt and can figure out how to get us out. Based on what they achieved the last time I encountered them, I’m hopeful.
I step inside the cell and Elvira quickly slams the door closed. After a few seconds, Atlas appears against the far wall, letting his camouflage fade.
“Feel better?”
“Loads. I think we’re in an old prison or jail.”
“I agree. I saw down the hallway that there were other cells, but I couldn’t get out. I think there’s something blocking it.”
“It has to be magic. Only Elvira can pass through, and perhaps anyone in her company.” I sit on the cot. “Want to hear something really weird?”
“Yes.”
“This shirt I’m wearing… I was obsessed with this band when I was younger. I listened to them nonstop.”
“Okay?”
“This shirt was waiting for me after my shower. The only people in the world who would know are my family, and they’re dead.”
Atlas nods, his brow creasing. “Wait… Didn’t you tell us before that you killed everyone in your family except your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Except your sister,” he repeats.
“Impossible. She was never strong enough. Not powerful enough. That’s why I spared her. Yes, she has magic ability like all Delaports do, but something went wrong with her. She never fully developed. Besides, I’ve not seen or heard from her since it all happened.” I drag my fingers through my damp hair. “She’s not strong enough to overpower me.”
I wrinkle my nose as the rest of the implication settles in. There’s no way my sister would dabble in necromancy, even if shewerestrong enough, which she absolutely isn’t.
Atlas nods. “I see. Is there a chance anyone else in your family is behind this?”
“It would almost have to be. Maybe a distant cousin or a long-lost sibling I never knew about. I don’t know how they’d know things about my childhood, but there are methods. Perhaps they’re working with a spellcaster or a medium talking to the other side, I don’t know. I just wish they’d come tell me what they want.”
