The Priestess didn’t even flinch.
Another sound followed the noise, along with a muffled groan.
A thin laugh crawled right up my spine from somewhere below, and my gaze shot to the staircase descending into the lower darkness.
“What was that?”
The Priestess’ smile faded into something colder. “Necessary containment.”
The sound came again with metal dragged over stone.
A voice muttered in a language I didn’t understand. It sounded like a different voice answered with a wet, broken chuckle.
Fear etched itself through me before I could hide it.
The Priestess turned slightly, her gaze following mine to the descending stairs. “Those are not for guests.”
“Who are they for?”
“The cruelest of the cruel of Shadowick.” She said it almost pleasantly. “Even shadow villages have their limits, my beautiful granddaughter.”
Maybe terrible things were kept beneath this compound, but the way she spoke of limits, as if she alone defined them, told me to be careful.
“Who decides what the threshold for evil is?”
She looked surprised. “I do.”
“Of course you do.” I let out a deep breath, wondering why I’d even asked. It wasn’t like Shadowick was built on democracy or majority rule.
“You disapprove.” She eyed me coolly.
I shrugged. “I’m just noticing a theme. That’s all.”
“Shadowick survived because I made difficult decisions when others chose sentiment and laziness.” She laughed. “If I hadn’t made rules, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
The scraping below stopped, and the silence that followed made my skin prickle worse than the sound had.
I glanced toward the stairs again and made a mental note I would never write down.
Lower level.
Prisoners.
Maybe monsters.
Maybe people she renamed monsters.
The Priestess stepped in front of the stairwell, blocking my view as if my curiosity offended her.
“You’re not ready for that level.” She slid her index finger under my chin like she had one other time and lifted my gaze to hers. “And you might never be.”
“Then why bring me here?” I asked, craning my head away from her touch.
“To show you mercy looks different depending on where one stands.” She said it as if it were the most obvious answer yet. I could have disposed of those heathens, but I offered them life.”
I looked toward the cell door again. “Is that what you call this?”
“It kept your mother alive.”
