Page 15 of The Witch's Heart
There’s no sense of movement or anything else happening and frustration bubbles up, breaking my concentration.
I open my eyes, ready to tell her how ridiculous this is.
But the words die on my lips.
I stare in wonder at the bars to my cell. A cell that I’m currently standing outside of.
“How did I do that?” I whisper, turning to study the long, narrow corridor stretching in both directions.
More important than the “how” is the “where.” If escape was ever a possibility, it’s now. I need to use every second I have to discover a way out.
From the looks of it, my cell is about halfway down the passage. Identical doors stand at each end, making the whole place feel a little like a carnival fun house. Not that there’s anything fun about this place.
From somewhere farther down, the snoring continues.
Estelle huffs impatiently. “Magic, silly,” she says and then promptly disappears.
Alone in the darkness, I try not to panic.
Another quick glance in either direction has me moving towards one of the exits. Or at least the one I’ve already come through. Hopefully it’ll lead to an escape route not being guarded by a certain nurse with a penchant for abuse.
Blocking out everything else, I sprint for the door, my body pumping with adrenaline and fear. When I reach it, I pause. First, I try the knob, knowing that would be too easy, but of course it’s locked. Next I try Estelle’s trick, the one that got me out of my cell, but no matter how long I stand with my eyes squeezed shut in concentration, when I open them again, I’m still on the wrong side of my freedom.
With a sigh, I turn back to the corridor. If I can’t escape, I might as well explore. Maybe I’ll find something useful.
“No los dejes encontrarte vagando.”
I recognize the language—Spanish—but not the words.
“Who’s there?” I call shakily.
“Ah, American,” she says, her Spanish accent giving a melodious rhythm to her words. I don’t see her until she begins to move, rising slowly from the far corner of the cell on my left. “Don’t let them catch you,mija. If they find out you can’t be contained by their locks, they’ll drain your power faster than you can summon it.”
Her voice is ancient and scratchy, and the warning sends a shiver down my spine as she shuffles closer.
When I see her, I try not to react. She’s older than me by at least two decades. Her face was undoubtedly beautiful once but is now marked by scars and damaged skin.
Her hair, though still long and thick, is brittle and streaked with gray. But her eyes are the most startling. They’re milky white, suggesting blindness despite the fact that she’s looking right at me. My skin prickles with the sense that she’s seeing more than just my physical body.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“My name is Maria. I am a seer.” She cocks her head. “What is your name, dear?”
“Celeste,” I say, trying to take all this in. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean by ‘seer’.”
“There is much to learn yet but most important is this: he will try to break you,mija.”
I swallow hard. Despite the gentleness in her tone, her words are laced with a danger that makes my stomach clench.
“Is that what happened to you?” I ask.
She leans in and sniffs the air between us. “Your power is strong. Stronger than the others who came before you.”
“Were there many?” I ask. “Before me?”
She nods. “Success eludes him. But he will not give up.”
And even though I’m positive the answer will be terrifying, I can’t help but ask, “What do they want with us?”
