“I don’t know. I think. Maybe. It felt real.”
“What happened?”
“He was trying to find me. And—” The rest of the dream pummels into my thoughts with a force so powerful, I lose my breath. “Uncle Niles. I saw him. He was in some kind of imprisonment. Shit, I think he was…”
“What?!” Niklaus turns me to face him, so we’re not overheard.
“Do you remember that chapter on the different forms of captivity in Vexamen? During the era of the Mazonist Brothers?”
“Yes.”
“What was that one where those captured were forced into physical labor until they were assigned a place in society, like the Vexamen Breed or imminent servitude toward the Meat Carnivals?”
Niklaus focuses his blue eyes over my head as he zones out to think. And that gaze shudders, then darkens as a dreadful realization falls over him.
“What? You remember the name?” I ask.
“The Blackspire Ward of The North.”
My insides twist into a tight knot.
I let my chin drop in firm agreement. “That’s where I saw him. It looked exactly like the photographs.”
The line moves along, our metal trays are filled with a green chunky soup, and metal cups scooped from a porcelain tub of cold water. We follow our neighbors to an empty table. I do my best to avoid eye contact with anyone but can feel their eyes drilling holes down my body.
“Husband and wife, hmm?” the young woman asks. “At least you weren’t separated during imprisonment.”
I briefly cut a glance to the couple observing us. But I’m too overwhelmed by the food in front of me. Too confused, sickened, hungry, anxious, and conflicted over why I’m starving yet filled with a stomach full of tangled knots. The thought of not eating is nauseating. The thought of eating is nauseating. It all just makes my stomach hurt.
I swallow a small spoonful, unbothered that the soup tastes like grass and sour cream with the gritty texture of undercooked rice and oatmeal.
“How long have you two been married?” the woman tries again.
“Not long,” Niklaus and I answer at the same time.
I try another spoonful. Nerves impale me from the inside out. What the fuck did that asylum do to me?
“It is a good thing you two are together. Single maidens and gentlemen don’t do well. Assaults happen often.”
“Hmm.” Niklaus taps his spoon to the tray. “Would either of you happen to know of a group of inmates here? Commander Kaspias would have taken a special interest in them.”
The young couple furrow their brows at him. “Who?”
“Kaspias? He’s a high-ranking commander. Would have a close relationship with the Mazonist Brothers.”
They look confused. “Are you talking about Dr. Ivast?”
Niklaus searches my face, then blinks back to our neighbors. “Crow Ivast?”
I raise my eyebrows at Niklaus’s question. Not possible. Crow Ivast was Albatross’s grandfather. The savant who once worked for the Mazonist Brothers but was stolen to work for Demechnef.
They nod.
“Do you know of any prisoners named Dessin, Skylenna, Niles, Warrose, Ruth, or Marilynn?” I ask urgently.
“No, I’m sorry. Do you have family or friends here too?” The young woman pats her neighbor on the shoulder. “We’ve been here a long time. We know almost everyone’s names. Haven’t heard of those.”
I shrink in my seat and stare at Niklaus with parted lips but no words to spare.
