Page 114 of The Study of Poisons
Yelena rushed out and halted beside him. Valek bit back a curse. The horrific scene of those poor souls had distracted him so much, he’d let Mogkan get the drop on him—a rookie mistake. He feared for Yelena’s life more than his own, but there was nothing he could do at this time. Of course, he’d jump at the first opportunity.
The soldiers took their packs, their obvious weapons, and the lantern. Then they were marched down to the holding cells. Every manor house had a small dungeon to hold prisoners temporarily. The sharp points of the swords jabbed into Valek’s back whenever he lagged. Yelena kept glancing at him as if waiting for a signal.
Not yet, love.
Once in the guard room, they were stripped of their clothing and thoroughly searched. They combed their fingers through Yelena’s hair and found her lock picks. The soldiers even took the time to check every inch of the material of his sneak suit, finding his weapons, darts, and lock picks. Just his bad luck to get smart guards.
They were led down a flight of stairs into the dungeon. The fetid stench of rat droppings, moldy straw, and excrement coated the back of his throat, gagging him. There were four cells on each side. He was pushed into the first one on the left and Yelena into the second one. The doors swung closed with a loud metallic clank. A man tossed his suit at him through the bars. A small kindness, one Valek appreciated since cold damp air licked his skin, causing goosebumps.
He scanned his small cell before the light disappeared. Only one wall was constructed with floor to ceiling iron bars. The rest were made of rough stone. Dirty straw covered the floor, along with brown lumps he doubted were Criollo. No chamber pot. No mattress. Nothing to use as a weapon. The door to the guard’s room shut and the blackness was instant. He dressed and considered how he could smuggle a set of lock picks on his body so they wouldn’t be found during another thorough search. Perhaps if he glued them to his thigh and covered them with a flesh-colored putty. But it’d have to be expertly done or it would be spotted.
“Valek?” Yelena said.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you fight the guards? I would have helped you.”
That was the downside of his reputation—unrealistic expectations. “Eight men had drawn swords pointed at my chest. Any sudden movement and I would have been skewered.” Still, it was nice that she had such confidence in him. “I’m flattered that you think I could win against those odds. Four armed opponents, maybe, but eight is definitely too many.”
“Then we pick the locks and make our escape?”
“That would be ideal, provided we had something to pick them with.” Unfortunately, they were stuck for now. With nothing to distract him, the image of those people chained to the floor rose in his mind. Yelena had recognized one of the younger victims.
Valek could no longer suppress his curiosity. “Was that your fate? If you hadn’t killed Reyad, were you slated to be chained to the floor, mindless?”
There was a long silence. Would she tell him it was none of his business? Or would she continue to trust him? He wouldn’t push if she didn’t answer his question.
“I think Brazell and Reyad were determined to reduce me to that mental state. But I endured.” Yelena explained how she thought Mogkan, Reyad, and Brazell had experimented on the children of the orphanage, children who might develop magic as they aged. Somehow, Mogkan had wiped their minds so that he could use them to enhance his power.
Yelena must have been one of those potential children. What had transpired once they figured out that she didn’t have magic? “Tell me what happened to you,” Valek said.
A pause, then her tale spilled out, slowly at first and then in a torrent.
“Life in Brazell’s orphanage was…actually nice. We had nannies and teachers and each other. They encouraged us to enter the various Fire Festival competitions and gain skills. On our sixteenth birthday, we were required to find a job. Many of the children worked as cooks, servers, or nannies in town. Well, that’s what they told us. Instead, they were turned into those soulless beings and chained to the floor.” A hitch caught in her voice.
“When I turned sixteen…” She swallowed. “I was told that, since I was the smartest of the children, I would have the honor of helping Brazell in his laboratory. An honor that lasted all of five minutes. Brazell and Reyad carried out Brazell’s…experiments. It was terrible, but, when it was just Reyad, he’d invite Mogkan to participate, and it went beyond horrible. Together, they’d try to outdo each other on who could create the harshest test.”
As she explained the progression of Reyad’s endurance tests that eventually turned into torture, Valek gripped the metal bars so hard, he expected them to bend under his fingers. Then she detailed the next two years of her life as a laboratory rat, the humiliation, the sadistic games, the torment, and the beatings.
Yelena continued, “As the sessions grew more difficult, Mogkan’s voice scratched at my mind, encouraging me to flee. To find a place of peace.” Yelena spared no details. She included every awful incident, trusting him completely.
Valek about ripped the bars from the concrete when she described Reyad’s rape. His desire to kill fought with his need to wrap Yelena in his arms and never ever let go so no one couldeverhurt her again.
“I killed Reyad to prevent him from harming Carra and May, my foster sisters, when they turned sixteen,” she said. “Guess I should have killed Brazell and Mogkan, too.” She fell silent.
Valek was outraged to learn this brutality was going on and sickened with guilt that he had no idea. “Brazell and Mogkan will be destroyed,” he promised Yelena.
The door to the holding cells opened. Bright light sliced the darkness as four guards with lanterns escorted Brazell and Mogkan into the dungeon. Valek stood at the bars.
“It’s good to see you back where you belong,” Brazell said to Yelena. “My desire to feel your blood on my hands has tempted me, but Mogkan has kindly informed me of your fate, should you not receive your antidote.” Brazell paused. “Seeing my son’s killer writhing in excruciating pain will be better justice. I’ll visit later to hear your screams. And if you beg me, I might put you out of your misery, just so I can breathe in the hot scent of your blood.”
Valek fisted his hands.If anyone’s going to bleed, it’ll be you.
Brazell’s gaze met Valek’s. “Disobeying a direct order is a capital offense. Commander Ambrose has signed your death warrant. Your hanging is scheduled for noon tomorrow.” Brazell cocked his head, appraising Valek. “I think I shall have your head stuffed and mounted. You’ll make an effective decoration in my office when I become Commander.”
Not a chance, you sadistic old goat.
They laughed, waved good-bye, and left. Good riddance. From the sounds emanating from Yelena’s cell, he guessed she was panicking about dying from Butterfly’s Dust. He debated telling her about the White Fright, but they might escape before the withdrawal symptoms started. If she knew about the ruse, then she might refuse to take the White Fright anymore. He needed her to keep ingesting it until he could slowly taper the dose until she could safely stop. Otherwise, the withdrawal was brutal on the body.
