Page 110 of The Familiar

The lock clicked and the door seemed to sigh as the catch released. They waited, listening, but they heard no sound of alarm, no footsteps racing toward them. They slipped out into the dark passage.

They couldn’t risk a candle and so they crept slowly down the hall. Teoda led the way, her steps barely a shuffle, Luzia’s hand resting on her shoulder.

Luzia tried to picture the map Ovidio had drawn for them, counting off her steps. But she began to doubt herself. Had she already counted fifty? Was her stride too long? Too short? Then Teoda hissed in a breath and halted. Luzia managed to keep her footing and reached out in the dark. They’d arrived at the door that separated the cells from the entrance to the prison. What was waiting on the other side? Two guards? Ten?

There would be no turning back from what happened next. She and Teoda flattened themselves against the wall and Luzia let new words and a new melody take shape in her whispers. Kada gayo kanta en su gayinero. Every rooster sings in his own chicken coop.

But she didn’t picture a strutting cock. She envisioned the biggest woman she could, thick-necked and bellowing, her face red with blood, her brow sweaty, her fists balled. A mighty giantess, a titan.

The sound that burst from the cells behind them was the thunder of a wave, a dam giving way with a tremendous, shuddering roar. Beside Luzia, Teoda released a startled gasp. But Luzia didn’t waver. She kept building the song as the roaring from the cells rose ever higher. The walls and floors trembled with the sound. It was as if the inquisitors had placed a demon on the rack, its screams filling the building. She hoped the sound would haunt the friars in their beds.

Luzia turned her head to the side just in time. The door to the entry slammed inward and struck her ear and the side of her face. She fumbled for the handle and just managed to get her fingers hooked into it as torchlight flooded into the passage and the guards rushed inside, hands on their swords, boots thudding over the stone floor.

Luzia gave the song a last long bellow, and then she and Teoda slid past the door to the unmanned entry. She had little memory of this place, though she knew she must have seen it when they brought her to the prison.

“Teoda.” The whisper nearly startled a scream from her, but it was just Ovidio. He looked gaunt compared to the elegant figure he’d cut at La Casilla, and Luzia thought there might be more gray in his hair. “Follow me.”

He peered through the small sliding wood casement the guards used to identify arrivals and visitors, then opened the door and waved them through. The courtyard was quiet. If the judges and scribes and servants had woken in their beds at the din coming from the prison, they hadn’t roused themselves to investigate. Maybe they were used to the sound of screams.

There was no reason to move slowly now. Ovidio swept Teoda up and they ran, keeping close to the building in case anyone might be watching the courtyard from the windows above.

They reached a niche carved into the stone and hung with the green cross of the Inquisition. Ovidio reached behind it and removed what looked like a rolled-up blanket.

Inside were a uniform for Ovidio, a cloak for Teoda, and a fresh gown for Luzia. Where is your modesty? she wondered as she stripped down to her linen and Ovidio helped to tie her laces. She supposed it had drowned in the inquisitors’ chamber.

They looked almost respectable.

Ovidio tucked their filthy prison clothes behind the flag and they hurried toward the gates that would lead them into the city proper.

“Are you prepared?” Ovidio whispered.

But there was only one answer to give. They turned right and passed beneath the arched entry. Ahead were the gates and a pair of guards at their posts.

“Alto!” barked one of them. “What purpose?”

“These ladies need escort to their coach,” said Ovidio.

“Talk sense.” The guard hadn’t drawn his sword, but he had his hand on its hilt. “What are you doing out here at night? Are those prisoners?”

“Who’s talking nonsense now? They’re visitors for … well, that’s not for me to tell. But let’s say that he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in some time.”

The guards exchanged a glance. It was well known that some of the clergy kept secret mistresses and even families.

“Why are they here so late?”

“I can’t answer that,” said Ovidio, a sly lilt in his voice.

The guards peered at them and Luzia lay a protective hand on Teoda’s shoulder, a mother’s hand. Outside, she could see the streets that would lead past the city walls and a team of six horses tethered to a coach. Two outriders and a coachman waited in the moonlight.

“I wanted to see Papa,” Teoda said in the high sweet voice she’d used at the torneo.

“You know they could be whores,” the other guard said.

“Señor!” Luzia exclaimed with all the righteous horror she could muster.

“Where’s your sword?” the guard asked Ovidio.

“God’s tongue, man. I didn’t think I’d need it when Fray … when I was pulled out of my bed at this shit hour. Can you just let us pass so that I can go back to bed before someone wakes up and starts asking questions none of us want to answer?”