One was a middle-aged man of medium build, with sandy blonde hair and striking cobalt eyes. While he couldn’t recall the guard’s name, he remembered the man from his own time in the dungeons. The thought of him being left alone with Hazel was… unsettling.
The other man was much younger, closer in age to himself and lacking the confidence of a seasoned warrior. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and an expression dripping with concern and fear. And then it hit him. Ezekiel.
“It’s about time, Breck. Not setting much of an example for this recruit, returning to your post this late,” said the blonde man.
“Yes, sir. Apologies, sir. Just finishing up rounds. Won’t happen again.”
“I should expect not. You know the consequences for tardiness. I wouldn’t want to have to use you to demonstrate to Bertram here how things work.”
No. Fucking. Chance.
Breck bowed his head submissively.
“Anyway, moving on. This is Ezekiel Bertram, one of our newer members of the guard. He’s been working shifts on the upper levels for a bit now, and has proved himself trustworthy and capable. So tonight, he’s your relief.”
Slaide noticed the subtle shift in Breck’s expression, and knew they must be thinking the same thing. This was no place for a novice. The upper level dungeons were nothing in comparison to the monsters they kept down here. Lucky for Bertram, there was only one inmate, and she wasn’t much of a threat.
“Ah, it’s nice to meet you, Ezekiel. You’ve been the talk of the barracks the past few days. Nice to have some competent men joining the ranks, finally. As it stands, I’ve nothing to report. Our prisoner has remained quiet, though she refuses to touch her food.”
Probably thinks it’s poisoned. Who could blame her?
“Your goal this evening is just to ensure she remains quiet. If you can convince her to eat, even better. His Majesty plans on turning her over to the Magistry soon, and their testing will surely be rigorous. It would be a shame for her to starve to death before she makes it there.”
Pardon? That bastard.Though he supposed his week was up, and that had been the deal. Slaide had kept his word, though none of this had gone as he’d expected or hoped. She didn’t win the tournament. Granted, no winner had been announced. But in the eyes of those who mattered, she was no champion. He’d discovered that Hazel did, in fact, have the magic they were looking for, but it had been a complete and total disaster. And Slaide had broken his golden rule when interrogating and infiltrating the minds of his captives.
He’d gotten much, much too close.
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE…
Hazel sat in a dark corner, knees pulled to her chest.What an absolute fucking disaster.How could someone’s life be upended so drastically in just over a week’s time? What had she done to deserve this, forthisto be her fate?
She’d been out for hours. When she finally awoke, she’d laid there, wishing to disappear. Each time a guard entered, she’d feigned sleep, and they’d left her alone. After a while, she crawled to the darkest corner of her cell and stayed there. Guards came and went, offering food, drink. Probably making sure she was still alive. And unfortunately, she was. No one else who truly mattered to her could say the same. They were gone.
Her stomach growled audibly. She was hungry, despite her insistence that she wasn’t. She crept out of her corner, chains scraping against the stone floor as she went. They’d left a small piece of bread and an even smaller chunk of cheese. Her stomach gurgled, and she eyed the plate suspiciously.They’d be stupid to poison me, right?Not that she actually cared. All she could think about was how she should have died right there alongside him. But no… that wasn’t fair. She had to live. For Agnes.
She gnawed off a stale bite of bread and formed the beginnings of a plan.
Hazel wasawoken later by the whirring, buzzing sound of the iron door being unlocked. Her skin tingled as the magic field changed. Someone was coming in. Some part of her hoped it was Slaide, hoped he had returned to discuss how he was getting her out of here. Since she’d started planning her next moves, she’d been kicking herself for not making the most of the time she’d had with him. But no, she’d chosen to be a brat instead.
Nothing could have prepared her for the verynot-Slaideform that stepped through the door. Or the fact that anyone else would have made her feel a sense of ease. But there it was as Zeke entered the inner sanctum containing her cell. The way her shoulders dropped, releasing the tension she’d ignored. And she sighed the most generous sigh of relief.
“Hazel?” he asked, closing the door behind him without locking it. “It’s Zeke. I’m on your security detail for this rotation. Just wanted to see if you were alright.”
She immediately noticed his tone was off, a far cry from his jovial self. She second-guessed coming out of the safety of her shadows. He sounded uncaring… unfeeling. And her locket… it warmed.
“You should know,” he began, “Agnes is… well, she’s in a lot of trouble, Hazel. A lot of people got hurt last night, and they’re saying you caused it. That you interfered with a lawful, court-sanctioned arrest, led a counter-riot, and then used your magic against the citizens of Aeos and several knights.”
She said nothing, still trying to decide if he was fucking serious or not.
He sighed, sounding defeated. “They’re planning to use her against you, so you know. Hurting her to punish you. Is that what you wanted? Do you understand how much of a mess you’ve made? If you had just let the arrest go down like it was intended to, none of this would have happened.”
Hazel was boiling from the inside, her iron chains hissing against her skin as the magic neutralized.
“She would at least have had a chance to stand trial. But now… now they’re putting her to the pyre. Day after tomorrow.”
Hazel lunged toward him. “Howdareyou come in here and speak to me as though you have any gods-damned idea what happened out there!” she spat.
To Zeke’s credit, he didn’t step back from the bars. Didn’t so much as flinch.
