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Three massive men stand at the entrance of my cell with stone expressions. The same one that banged his baton on the metal stands there, hitting the bat onto the other palm, his beady eyes watching me as I watch him.
“Are you deaf?” he snarls. “Get up, now!”
I smile softly at the elderly man next to me, and he smiles back, but his is full of sadness. His eyes show some emotion for the first time, but I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me without words. Pushing against the wall I try to stand myself up, it takes a whole load of will, but I manage it. If the chain connecting my shackles had been shorter than this, I know I would have gone splat.
I walk to where the men are standing, my head low, and I hear sniggers. I have to bite my lip, keeping my words at bay; I don’t think telling them to go to Hell is a good idea. I stand in front of the bars where the door should be, but I don’t lift my head.
Kevin’s words play in my mind; my aunt doesn’t know that the memory wipe didn’t work, so I can play this as a mistake. Surely she wasn’t the one to haul my arse here, was she?
One of the big guys at the back steps to the side so he’s now visible. I can’t help it, the urge to look up has me lifting my head to make eye contact. He enormous, and a green glow washes over his hand like it’s on fire as he lifts it and waves it at the bars. My jaw nearly drops when a green sizzling door burns its way around the metal and it swings open like it was just a solid object a moment ago.
“Are you going to behave yourself,” he rumbles, his eyes narrowing on me.
My brows scrunch together in a frown as I look at the other two in confusion. The one on the left lifts something in his hands and I gulp when I see a mouth cover that looks like something out of a human horror movie. I step back on instinct, much to the two guys behinds amusement, the guy in front quirks a brow at me.
“I’m not wearing that,” I say, glaring at the one who has the mask in his hand. His face falls at my words and I know that isn’t just a mouth cover, but I really don’t want to find out what it’s for.
“Step out of the cell, please,” the one who opened the door asks kindly.Ok I’m calling this one nice guy.
I do as he asks, stepping out of the cell, my eyes shifting left and right. The door being open has drawn attention from the other inmates, some of them are sneering at me when I meet their gazes. I look back to the one who let me out, finding him looking at me with a frown.
“Your trial begins now,” the douche snarls at me, a demonic smirk tipping up the edge of his mouth.Yep, I’m defo calling this one douche bag.
That sets me off, I could already feel the anxiety starting to flow in my veins earlier, but this has made it swarm like a nest of bees protecting their queen. A weird buzzing feeling starts in my veins, and the cuffs around my wrist glow brighter pulsating to the same speed as the feeling within.
“She’s trying to use magic, the stupid girl,” douche bag sniggers, I feel him step behind me rather than see him.
He shoves me forward with enough force to have me stumbling forward. Thank the gods for the extra length of chain so I can at least keep myself upright. The kind one who let me out grabs hold of my arm and pulls me back to his side, glaring at the other two who cackle their heads off like maniacs.
He sets off, pulling me down the corridor by the length of chain, his hand holding it by the junction where the metal for my wrists and ankles meets. I chew my lip at the sound of rain hitting the building roof, and I wonder if that’s anything to do with me. My anxiety grows the further we go, and my emotions are all over the place. I wish Kevin was here but then I remember his words when he told me to run. Where is he? Has someone managed to catch him and are they hurting him? No, not Kevin, he wouldn’t let that happen…
We climb the stairs at the end of the cell block, and I manage to keep my eyes forward… even though the urge to have a look at the other people in the cells is difficult. The quiet one opens the door the hallway beyond is so much more opulent than the damp, cold expanse that we’ve just stepped out of. If I didn’t know the cell block was below this building, I’d be none the wiser with the difference down there and here.
“Move,” the douche one says to the nice one. They stand there facing each other, glaring as they get stuck in some sort of weird supernatural show down. “Don’t make me tell you again, I am your superior here, and I will be the one who walks her into her trial.”
Wow, he is a proper douche. The kind one narrows his eyes. If looks could kill, the other one would be six foot under by now. The quiet one shuffles from foot to foot behind me, his shoes squeaking on the floor.
“We’re nowhere near the council floors yet and you want to do this now?” the nice one asks, his tone sounding angry.
“You heard me, you’re only here because you’re too thick to do anything for your clan,” the douche snarls back, getting in the nice one’s face.
I look over my shoulder at the quiet one, my brows jumping to my hairline in surprise. He’s looking everywhere in the corridor but at what’s going on between his two buddies. I snigger at him.
“You not going to stop this before it gets out of hand?” I ask.
“Not a chance, inmate, they’ll sort their weird power trip and then we can continue on our way,” he throws back, folding his arms across his chest.
A huge gust of wind smashes into the building, cutting the argument off. I look around wide eyed as the weather seems to grow in power. My cuffs are going crazy, doing their own little light show, and I look down, watching the blue glow turn almost white then to a deep navy colour and back.
“What are you doing?” the douche snaps at me, the argument long forgotten as both of them watch me closely.
“I’m not doing anything,” I say back with sass. I bite my lip because that’s really not the best thing to be doing and I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
“Yeah, of course you’re not,” douche spits. Grabbing hold of my arms, the magic sparks again, making him drop to the floor clutching his arm.
“What the hell?!” he shrieks, and I wince at the high octave. “Stop her.”
The nice one and the quiet one look to one another. I shift just enough to have all three of them in view, my eyes narrowing on the douche still on his knees on the floor clutching his arm. His skin looks like it’s been fried, and confusion hits me because if he was that injured from touching my arm, surely he would have made some sound.
