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“Miss, I’m begging you…”
“I didn’t do anything…”
“I don’t deserve this, miss. Please…”
Irvene bared her fangs at them, and they pulled back one by one.
“Oh. My. God.” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected this, but the display still shook her to the core. “So many…” She made a point not to answer their pleas. It was better to let them believe she was just another demon, than risk one of them outing her to Casimir, Berith, or whomever came to bring their meals. Even though they were poorly dressed and dirty, Sophie could see they were being well fed, and they all had thick blankets to keep them warm in their cold, damp cells. Of course Casimir would make sure they were strong and healthy. Nothing could compare to the energy and aura of a young, healthy human who still had hope of getting out of there alive. And the Count had at least two dozen of them, ripe for his demon guests to feast on when the time came. “Four days… We have four more days to free all these people,” Sophie whispered under her breath.
Just as she reached the end of the tunnel and was getting ready to turn around and leave the horrible cellar, a young man threw himself against the bars of his cell and startled her. Her heart jumped in her chest, but she was present enough to stop Irvene when her fangs flew to the man’s extended arm.
“Down, girl. Down.”
“Miss, please… I’ll give you this if you get me out of here. Take it. Please, take it.”
He was pushing something in her face, but she couldn’t tell what the thing was. It looked like a small bottle. It glowed white and blue in the eerie light of her torch, and without thinking twice, Sophie grabbed the man’s wrist to keep it steady.
“What do you have here?”
At a closer inspection, it seemed that the bottle held two types of liquids inside, one white and one blue, which never merged. They were like water and oil, except way prettier.
“I don’t know, but I swear it’s something antique and precious. It has to be. Look at how nice it glows in the light, miss. It must be something expensive. You could get a fortune for it. That’s what I wanted to do once the Count sent me to a big city after the Spring Celebration: sell it. Please take it. It’s all I have.”
Sophie let go of his wrist and moved the torch in front of the cell to get a better look at the prisoner. She already knew what the small, sparkly bottle was: the shaman’s lost phial of dead water and living water. The man couldn’t have been older than 19. He was tall and well-built, with shaggy brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was rather handsome, even in the dirty rags he was wearing.
“What’s your name?”
“Petro, Miss.”
“And where did you get this, Petro?”
“I… I didn’t steal it, I swear.” He pulled back, squeezing the phial in his trembling fist. “It was there.”
“Where?”
“A cave near my village. I like to go exploring, and this cave is really deep. One day, I came across a new gallery and there was this statue of an old man. The bottle was around the statue’s neck. It looked old and valuable, so I took it.”
“A statue?” Sophie couldn’t believe her ears. “A statue of an old man… That’s odd. What did he look like?”
“I… I don’t know what you mean. It was just a statue. White, probably made of stone. It was very realistic, though. Incredible craftsmanship. The man was sitting with his back straight and his legs crossed like… like this.” Petro sat down on the cold floor to show her the exact position of the statue he claimed to have found.
“In the lotus position,” said Sophie.
“I don’t know what it’s called, Miss. I just know what I saw.”
Sophie studied the man on the floor, with his legs clumsily tucked underneath him, and she knew he wasn’t lying. Tengu had said the shaman was in a deep trance when the phial was stolen for him. Maybe that was what a wizard who had been meditating for 100 years ended up like: a statue.
“All right, Petro. Have you showed that to anyone else besides me?”
“No, Miss, just you. I can tell the other… creatures… that come down here don’t want to release us.” He spat the word “creatures” as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. “But you are different, Miss, I can tell. You have a kind heart.”
Sophie closed her eyes for a second and contemplated her options. She knew all the other prisoners had heard their conversation because the cellar had grown awfully quiet the moment they had heard her voice. She would have loved to tell all of them she was here to help, and all they had to do was keep their mouths shut and hang in there for four more days, but it would have been too risky. She couldn’t tell that to Petro either.
“I’m sorry, Petro, I don’t need that. And even if I did, I would simply take it from you.”
“No.” The man shook his head. “No! I don’t believe you! You’re not like the others. You’re kind and caring, I can feel it. Please help me, Miss. Help us.”
Sophie forced herself to laugh in his face, but it came out strained and fake. “I don’t know what makes you think that.”
