Page 130 of Grim and Oro
“No.”
When I was a child, and refused, I was called insolent. Now, as an adult, an heir who has mastered two abilities, I’m called a traitor.
And I’m thrown in the castle prison.
No one tries to talk to me. I sit in silence. I make a fire to warm my cell. It’s not so bad, at first. But quickly, I become hungry.
I know what my father is doing. He’s trying to display his control, his authority. He’s trying to break me. Every day, the warden visits my cell with a tray of food and asks if I’m ready to gild the prisoner. I say no again and again.
Each time, he leaves with the tray untouched.
A week passes this way. There’s a hole in the ceiling of my cell, positioned on a cliff, and I catch rainwater to drink.
My stomach twists with hunger.
At least it isn’t the hole on Sun Isle, I think, letting gratitude guide me through another day. But it can only go so far where hunger is involved.
My body begins to tire. I have been sitting upright, in order to look the warden in the eye every time he enters.
But today, I find myself slipping to the ground.
I lie there, staring at the hole in the ceiling, at the patch of gray. There will be rain soon. Good. Something shifts.
I blink. I must be hallucinating. Because—that looks like an eye.
It blinks back.
I startle, the shock bringing me upright again.
“I can get you food,” a person says from above. He doesn’t sound much older than me.
“How?” I ask, my voice rough with thirst. Then, I wonder how he’s even on top of my cell in the first place. These dungeons are carved high into the mountains. “Are you—are you a Skyling?”
I haven’t completed that part of my training. If my father has his way ... I never will.
“I’m your savior, that’s what I am,” he says. “Food. I can get it for you. But I have a price.”
Right now, I would give everything I own for a bite of bread. “What is it?”
“Your button,” he says.
I look down and see the blood orange ruby on my clothing. My mother gave it to me. “No,” I say, using the newly familiar word again.
The stranger laughs through the hole. “Fine. I’ll just pick it off your corpse when you starve to death.”
There are steps on the ceiling, before I say, “Wait!”
The eye is back again.
“If I tell you how to get something more valuable than my button, will you bring me back food? Will you honor our trade?”
The stranger seems to think for a moment. Then, he nods. There’s a flash of blue hair. Pale skin.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” the stranger says, annoyed, but that’s all I need. He isn’t lying.
“Fine. Find Enya, on Sun Isle. She’ll give you whatever jewels you need.”
