Warily, she looked up. The demons were across the room, speaking rapidly in the Godstongue. She did not know enough to catch what was being said, but it sounded like they were arguing.
Time passed, and Elizabeth felt nauseous. After a few minutes, she was able to think more clearly, but she still couldn’t see a way out of this mess.
A wave of hopelessness threatened to shatter her, and she begged herself to stay tough, stay smart, as her finger and arm throbbed painfully.
She reached into herself—only the barest flicker of her magic remained, like a dim spark buried deep.
Elated to see any flicker of magic at all, she reached for it, struggling to dredge up enough magic to cast a spell. But her magic was almost exhausted, and where there used to be a well brimming with green fire, only a small drop remained.
Come on.
She tried to coax her magic, and draw it up, but it slipped from her grasp.
She reached for it once more, and the smallest thread of green wavered, and hesitantly extended outward. She cradled the last of her magic, fearful that if she lost focus at all, she would lose her chance of escaping. But what could she do?
Glancing around the room, her eyes snapped to the chandelier.
Elizabeth eyed the demons and coughed, heavily and pathetically.
Maud stopped arguing with her sister long enough to look at her sharply.
Elizabeth smiled, slowly.
“Mortalfilth.” Maud prowled towards her, looking at her scathingly. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Elizabeth whispered, “Tídth.”
Maud snorted and took another step towards her. “Funny that you think a human with the barest gift of magic could possibly hurt us,” Maud sneered, manifesting a sphere of churning black fire that levitated above her palm.
She stared at Elizabeth with wrath in her eyes. “Want to see what happens when a ball of raw magic burns a hole through mortal flesh?” Maud taunted. “Maybe we’ll tell Leviathan you broke before you could tell us anything useful.”
Maud bared her teeth.
Elizabeth focused on her magic.
Metal groaned overhead.
Maud glanced up and froze as the chain of the enormous chandelier snapped, crashing down on her.
Fiza screamed, rushing to the chandelier to try and tug it off her sister.
Maud stirred underneath the chandelier, her hand moving feebly.
Elizabeth didn’t stop to see if she was alright—she was already up and moving.
Sprinting through the castle, she burst through the front doors. She paused at the iron fence, rubbing her bonds vigorously against the pointed tips of the iron bars until the ropes started to fray.
Spotting a shadow at the doors, she bolted.
She wrenched at the bonds as she ran, elated to feel the rope fall away. Hands free, she sprinted towards the forest. Snow crunched underfoot.
She made the mistake of glancing down at her finger and stumbled a step. Her pinky was nothing more than a charred stump, as if the demons had seared it with something to staunch the blood. To prolong her torture.
She ran faster.
Elizabeth ran for all she was worth, but using magic had zapped what little energy she had left. It was like she was running underwater. Panting, she forced her leaden limbs to keep going.
Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her, and she gave a short burst of speed. Elizabeth risked a glance behind her—Fiza was almost upon her.
