A few moments later, she scampered back out to the bench and snatched the bowl of apples before retreating to the darkness again. A tiny mouse crawled out of a gap in the stones and zig-zagged over to where Hazel’s pastry crumbs had fallen. Hazel froze, waiting for the moment her cat would spring into action. His body tensed beside her, but he didn’t budge beyond the irritated flick of his tail.
The mouse gobbled the crumbs greedily, and while she wasn’t sure if a mouse could experience pure bliss, she was certain she witnessed the mouse equivalent. The cat remained unbothered. His body relaxed and he moved on to cleaning his paws. Hazel cocked her head at the strange behavior. He truly was the oddest cat she’d ever met.
Hazel waited eagerlyfor her meals after that, wondering what news or plans he would attempt to send via pastry-mail. The real task was figuring out which food item would contain the message; she quickly learned it wasn’t just baked goods.
The thing that puzzled her though, was that none of them made sense. It didn’t take long to understand that it was coded, but she hadn’t been given the key. As time went on, panic seeped into her bones at the possibility she might have accidentally eaten the key to the coded letters, and he would have no way of knowing. He’d expect her to be carrying out whatever plan he was trying to inform her of, and she would be completely in the dark. It didn’t help that the cat came and went as he pleased, giving her one more being to worry about. The longer he stayed away, the more concerned she grew, expecting at any moment a guard would stomp in, holding him by the scruff.
As if in answer, the cat appeared almost out of nowhere. It was when he started grooming his ears and back that caught a glimpse of something strange. Tied around his neck, a collar of red ribbon looped through a small piece of parchment with an inscription on it. There were random holes cut throughout the message, resulting in a note that once again made little sense. She’d need some time to mull it over and compare this holey note to the previous installments.
She thanked the cat for his help and scratched him behind his ears, assuming the gesture would express her feelings more than words alone. He accepted her offering, staring at her for just a moment longer than Hazel thought normal.
Immediately, she started comparing the notes, looking for nuances and patterns across the set. And that was when it hit her. The cat hadn’t delivered any ordinary message; he’d delivered the key.
Later that day or evening or whatever time of whatever day it was, she was met with the familiar noise of her door being opened. But when the door swung away, it revealed an unsettling view: four fully armed and armored Raven Blade Knights. She watched them from the shadows, quickly noticing they were not bringing her refreshments.What could these brutes want now?
The last knight to enter pushed past the others and stepped to the front. He scanned the cell from behind his visor, clearly looking for Hazel. Maybe expecting her to lunge from the dark in her fury.
“Come now, girl. His Majesty wants you moved to a different cell. We’ve been sent to escort you.”
Why would he want that?Surely there was a motive…
When she didn’t respond, he lowered his tone, and she supposed it was meant to make him sound more threatening. But what he didn’t understand was that once a girl had nothing left to lose, not a whole lot could scare her.
“I don’t make a habit of asking twice,” he glowered. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice was indication enough of the annoyed scowl she’d find there.
Fine. Fine.But first, she needed to do something with Slaide’s notes. She hadn’t had a chance to decipher them and couldn’t afford them falling into the wrong hands now that she had the key. Finding herself lacking options, she stuffed them into her underclothes. And then she stepped into the light, hoping her cat would find his way to safety.
The knights were a brutish bunch, but none of them laid a hand on her beyond what was necessary, so she had to give them some credit. Though that was where the pleasantries ended.
When they entered the main hallway of the upper-level dungeons, Hazel found herself filled with a sense of dread. The knights led her to the end of the hallway and pushed her into the last cell.
“Welcome to the top side, girl. Don’t get too comfortable, and don’t try anything stupid. Just because His Majesty moved you up here doesn’t mean we’re taking our eyes off you. Understood?” The group’s faceless leader grumbled at her.
Hazel nodded, and the knights locked the cell, taking the key with them. She heard the door close at the end of the long hallway, followed by the jingle of keys and the click of a lock sliding into place. She was alone again.
Something shifted in the cell adjacent to hers. Hazel could just barely make out a form in the shadows.Not alone, then.
She approached the bars, hoping to get a closer look at her new neighbor.
“H-hello? Is someone there?” she asked, trying to mask the unease in her voice. She half expected the locket to warn her of danger, but it did not.
She was met with silence. Whoever it was clearly didn’t want to socialize. And that was fine. It didn’t make much sense to make new friends here, anyway. No telling how many days or hours either of them had left. She turned her back and went to sit down in the only corner of her cell that received enough fire light to read by. She needed to get to work deciphering those letters.
“Hazel?” The voice was quiet, but scratchy, strained. And familiar.No…
“Agnes? Is that you?” Hazel’s voice was desperate; she couldn’t help herself. She’d already written off ever seeing Agnes again, so this was a blessing. And at the same time, a curse. Nowit was even more imperative that she figure out what their next move was. Now there really was a chance she could save Agnes, a chance she’d thought lost to her.
“Yes, dear. My goodness, it is so good to hear your voice, sweet Hazel. Are you… alright?” It was a loaded question, and they both knew it. No, she wasn’t alright, and neither was Agnes. And they wouldn’t be, as long as they were trapped in the dungeon, facing whatever cruel fate awaited them.
“I am as well as I can be. And you? I was told that… well… I thought you were gone. I am so glad you’re here, Auntie. I was sick over it. This is all my fault and?—”
“Nonsense. You did what you had to, according to what I’ve heard. And had you not been there to intervene, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. No sense in dwelling on the past. We are both alive, aren’t we?” By the tone of her voice, she’d made peace with whatever she thought would come next. That didn’t sit well with Hazel.
Agnes shuffled closer to the bars between them, the light from the sconces casting her in a warm glow. Hazel noticed her severely burned arms had been wrapped and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had shown Agnes that kindness.
“Hazel, dear,” she began, sadness lacing her voice, “We need to talk about what comes next.”
Well, that sounded ominous.
