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“You don’t owe me anything. You’ve done more than enough.”
“If anything goes wrong, you blame me for all of it, okay?” I urge her, forcing strength into my voice despite feeling far from strong.
She shakes her head. “No. I won’t let you do that. If it goes wrong then we stand together. We fight until we can’t anymore.”
“You won’t be fighting anyone. You have a life inside of you, Faith. That is what you protect. If it comes to it and you can get away, you run. Don’t look back. Get out of here. Do not try and help me or the others,” I say, taking her hands and squeezing tightly. “Promise me, Faith.”
“This is going to work,” she replies instead. “Right?”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
“Right?!” she insists.
“Right!” I nod, willing myself to believe it.
I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t scared. The truth is I’m terrified. Not because I fear for my own life, but because I fear this plan won’t work. Even if Soren and the Skull Brotherhood ingest the drink without noticing we’ve poisoned it, they could still kill any one of us before the effects truly take hold. These women could die anyway and all of this would be for nothing. Faith rests her hand on my arm, her thumb circling over the patch of skin not discoloured by bruises.
“Perhaps I should’ve woken you up sooner, given you more time to get ready mentally for what’s to come, but you looked so peaceful, and I just wanted to give you that before…”
Her voice trails off as tears clog her throat, and I shake my head, reaching for her. Pushing away my own anxiety and doubts, I force myself to believe that we will succeed. That the effects of the poison will give us all a fighting chance.
“We’ll get through this,” I say firmly.
She nods. “I trust you, Cynthia.”
Giving her one last squeeze, I slowly unravel myself from her arms and reach for the heavy robe spread out across the end of the bed. It takes immense concentration to pull it over my body and not pass out from the pain. The fabric is coarse and thick, but it will conceal the vial of medicine without issue.
"When did these arrive?" I ask, adjusting the robe to sit more comfortably on my shoulders. It has long, wide, bell-like sleeves that hang over my hands, and the arm holes are big enough for me to tuck my arms inside the robe if I wanted to.
"I'm not sure. When I woke up they were lying at the foot of the bed."
A chill passes over my skin at the thought of one of Soren’s men stepping into this room whilst we were asleep and vulnerable, but I refuse to allow my thoughts to wander to such a dark place and focus on our plan instead. "Do you have the poison?"
She nods, lifting up the hem of the robe and showing me how she's strapped the vial around her waist with a length of material ripped from my skirt that I’d left to dry in the bathroom the other day. Thank God they didn’t search the cistern whilst we were sleeping.
"They won't search you?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "It's unlikely. Soren is too arrogant to believe we’d try to take him out."
"But not improbable?"
"Let's not worry about that, okay?" she whispers, taking my hand in hers.
"But–," I begin, just as the door to our room slams open and Half-skull walks in, his gaze scanning over Faith before finally settling on me.
“I see you’re ready,” he says in a low voice as he sneers at us both.
His lascivious gaze makes my stomach churn, but I clench my teeth together and straighten my spine, forcing myself to stand tall and not cower before him.
“We’re ready,” Faith says, her voice soft as she reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently.
"Then follow me," he replies, turning towards the door and leading us out of the bedroom and along a maze of corridors until we eventually reach the entrance of a large assembly hall.
The space is dimly lit with gas lamps dotted around the edges of the room, bringing life to the shadows that spread out like an evil stain across the stone floor. The air is thick and heavy with tension, but Faith’s grip on my hand is strong, and I find comfort in her presence. That comfort is short-lived as my eyes adjust to the light and I take in the five large circular tables, ten chairs surrounding each.
“Oh God, no,” I whisper, a sudden wave of dizziness hitting me as my stomach rolls with nausea.
On each table, naked, with their arms and legs spread wide, are the women Soren made me examine two days ago. Some tremble with fear, sobbing quietly, whilst others are deathly quiet, as though they’ve already checked out, their conscious minds retreating to the depths to protect themselves from what’s to come.
