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“I won’t eat unless you all do, too.”
They hesitate before arguing with that logic.
“I’ll take a bite, after each of you do first.” My word is final, and they can hear it in my tone. Either we all eat, or I suffer right along with them.
Ruth takes the first spoonful before passing it to Niles.
“Damn, how can something taste so good and so rancid at the same time?” He rubs his tummy like that one spoonful was enough to fill him up.
One by one, we finish off the bowl of soup. Ruth has me drink the black sludge, helping me force it down without puking. Niles finishes applying the ointment. Marilynn washes the blood out of my hair. And Warrose sings to me as Dessin rocks me back and forth.
I smile up at them as the pain drifts far below the surface. Muted. Colorless. And I realize, it doesn’t matter where we are. An asylum. Demechnef Headquarters. A savage prison.
We are home if we’re together.
13. Fun House Night
Skylenna
“Join the fun! Run, run, run! Our soldiers wait! Run, run, run! The Ringmaster calls! Run, run, run! Only corpses are late!”
Dessin keeps a hand on my lower back as we follow the prisoners back to the circus stage. The speakers blast a child’s creepy song that, I suppose, is meant to get everyone in the mood to participate in Fun House Night.
I want to cover my ears.
“It feels like I’m walking to my own funeral,” Niles deadpans.
“We find Helga Bee first. She can at least give us some insight on what to expect,” Dessin instructs us calmly.
We file toward another entry to the stadium. The doorways are open enough to see the glimmer of golden light and hear the unsettling music, a combination of trumpets, violins, and an old organ. But worst of all, the muffled chatter of more human beings than I have ever heard before in one central setting.
“Do you think anyone dies from these little shows?” Warrose leans close to Dessin’s ear so the others can’t hear him.
“Maybe.”
I have to hold out hope that we’re far too useful for the Mazonist Brothers to dispose of us in a cheap, gory circus. We’re weapons. Why would they be so careless with us?
“I think they’re trying to scare us into submission,” Dessin mutters under his breath.
“Hmm?”
“The Mazonist Brothers. Think about it. What better way to ensure our loyalty? Make the alternative to their plans for us seem so much worse. Keep us in this deranged slice of hell long enough, and we’d do anything for them to stay out of it.” Dessin strokes my back as he whispers in my ear.
“I was literally just thinking about the Mazonist Brothers and why they would risk our safety like this,” I muse, savoring the way his lips graze my hair. “Can you read minds now?”
“We’re back to that theory, huh?”
I shrug.
“It seems we’ve been together long enough to think on the same frequency,” he adds.
Something about that idea puts my mind at ease. We’re growing closer in ways neither of us understand. It feels like he covers my weaknesses, and I cover his. Where one of us ends, the other begins.
“You think they’ll be watching this Fun House Night?” I ask.
He nods, watching the line file through those grand double doors into the blinding light. Nerves prickle over my bruised arms, twisting my stomach like a ribbon into a bow. Theoretically, we may be safe from dying here, but not from suffering. And what about the others? Ruth and Niles would mean nothing to our captors. In fact, they may act as further incentive to do their bidding.
“Focus on getting through tonight.” The voice is back, so real I can feel the tingle of her breath on my cheek.
