I tried to focus my magic, but the moment my fingertips started to glow, pain reverberated through my arms like fire. I recognized this pain. It wasn’t Magic Exhaustion; it was Stiltdegarth blood. The cuffs must’ve been forged with it. Even if I wasn’t experiencing Magic Exhaustion, there would be no using my powers so long as I was constrained like this.
My worry escalated and I pulled harder on the chains, which were attached to a mighty hook bolted to the ceiling eighteen feet overhead. I could only see traces of the hook. Three feet below it, a maze of water pipes ran around the area. Most of them were on the left side of the room. They ended a little ways past the hook keeping my chains and me upright.
As I struggled, a fat droplet of water dripped from one of the pipes and ran down my face. I looked down as it trickled off my chin and fell to the floor. I nearly shriveled out of my skin when I discovered the dark stains on the ground around me.
Dried blood.
The room had limited luminescence. A dozen small lanterns encased within glass shells emitted pale blue light and rimmed the higher part of the walls. A dark shade of red also came from a small, thick-glassed window on the back wall near the ceiling that I could make out between the pipes. Still, I didn’t need more lighting to be sure that these marks on the floor were blood. I could smell it.
The trapdoor at the top of the stairwell opened. I turned and saw hefty boots coming down the staircase. Daverose.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “How can I get out? How do I escape? I assure you, it’s a waste of time. There is no way out of the Chamber for you, at least not while you’re alive.”
“Actually, I was thinking of investing in some high-quality hand cream, what with the frequency people have been cuffing me lately,” I said. “But escape is definitely up there on my list of priorities too. That, and tearing you a new one.”
As Daverose came nearer, I spotted my wand. It was still in its axe form and glowed dimly from where it was attached to a holster on the side of my captor’s belt.
Daverose loomed over me and smirked. “I must say, of all the girls who’ve ever gone into the Little Cabinet, you’re one of my favorites. If circumstances were different, I’d probably keep you in my collection. Such a shame to kill so rare a bird.”
Daverose moved to touch my face and I acted on impulse. I wrapped my fingers around my chains, boosted off the floor, and kicked my captor in the chest. Big as he was, the sudden shove jolted him back a couple of steps. I ricocheted off his body from the force. My good sense returned a moment later as I found my feet.
I shouldn’t have done that.
Don’t get me wrong, it felt great. But I hadn’t thought the impulse through. I was restrained there with nowhere to go. My magic was inactive. Daverose had my wand. And he was twice my height, five times my weight, and in a very good position to crush me like a handful of cereal.
Luckily, Daverose didn’t smash me to smithereens like he very well could have. Instead, he stepped forward and punched me so hard in the stomach I was surprised his fist didn’t come out the other side.
I would have collapsed to the ground had the chains not been holding me upright. Wheezing and gasping, I thought I might pass out again, or throw-up. But I made it through and slowly my breathing calmed.
“One of my servants will be by shortly to prepare you,” Daverose said nonchalantly as he headed back up the stairs. “I like you girls to be presentable when I kill you and, at the moment, you look more like a wild creature than a delicate maiden.”
“Thanks,” I coughed as I straightened myself out with a grunt. “I try.”
Daverose shook his head in amusement. “On second thought, I think I’ll enjoy killing you. My kin will certainly enjoy watching it. I have sent word to my nearest Bluebeard brethren. At sundown today, over a dozen of them will come to witness your demise. That’s not long from now; you were asleep for a while.” He grinned wickedly. “Enjoy your remaining time, Miss Knight. I hope the accommodations are suitable.” The white of his grin and the malicious glint in his eyes sparkled in the shadows of the cell. He rose through the trapdoor and slammed it shut. I heard bolts slide into place on the other side as he locked it behind him.
Great. Now what? I talk a good game, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m chained here without any way out of these cuffs.
“This sucks,” I sighed to myself.
“You don’t know the half of it yet,” someone replied.
I turned in surprise to see a girl floating through the back wall. She was around my age, tall and thin with wavy hair and a tattered gown. Most notably, though, she was see-through.
Her skin, clothes, eyes—all of her—was translucent white. The edges of her dress and hair flowed around her as if trapped in an invisible breeze. She levitated closer, causing me to realize that she didn’t have feet. Her spirit form ended with the frayed hem of her dress.
“You’re a ghost,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” she replied. “And I must say you’re taking it rather well. Most people are much more frightened when my sisters and I appear. My name’s Hannah.”
“My name’s Crisanta Knight,” I responded. “And most people haven’t faced Therewolves, Headless Horsemen, and Stiltdegarths. Trust me. I’ve seen way worse.” I paused. “Wait. Did you say sisters?”
Fifteen other girl ghosts passed through the walls and floated around me with troubled expressions on their faces. They were all young and dressed in gowns like the first ghost—and like me. A lump formed in my throat and my stomach lurched. I looked down at the splatters of dried blood on the floor.
“You were all …”
They nodded.
“Here?”
They nodded again.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Not yet you’re not,” said a ghost with high cheekbones. “Daverose said you have until sundown. Which means you have twenty minutes to escape.”
“Well, I’m open to suggestions. Have any of you ever found a way out of here?”
“Does it look like we found a way out of here?” replied the same ghost, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, sorry. Stupid question.”
The first ghost who’d entered, Hannah, crossed her arms and sighed. “We all ended up here when we escaped Daverose’s dream state through the Little Cabinet. He put us in those same chains you’re in and none of us were able to break free. Not even magic worked thanks to the Stiltdegarth blood in the handcuffs.”
“You had magic?” I asked Hannah.
“I did,” another spirit with choppy bangs replied, floating forward. I recognized her instantly.
“Elaine!” I gasped. “You’re Morgan La Fay’s niece.”
The ghost raised her eyebrows. “How do you know that?”
“I met your aunt. And your mother.”
“Oh.” The ghost hung her head sadly. “How are they?”
“About as good as can be expected with you missing all this time and Rampart out there ruining the realm.”
Elaine nodded. “I wish I could see them. Spirits can sometimes visit the living, but none of us can. Ghosts can’t leave the place they were killed if there’s still unfinished business. All of us are trapped in Bluebeard Tower so long as Daverose’s dark magic and dark purposes remain active.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’m still not entirely sure what is going on in this Tower. What kind of dark magic is Daverose using on all those girls? It’s coming from the chokers, isn’t it?”
“It is,” a young ghost replied, gliding forward. She had bushy hair in a ponytail and there was a well-placed mole on her left cheek. “I’m Colleen. I got killed most recently, so it’s my job to explain. First off, do you know what Avalonian glass is?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a type of magical material that can only be found on the Isle of Avalon,” Colleen explained.
“When properly forged, it can do all sorts of things,” Elaine
added. “Like absorb magic, contain and sustain it, or conduct and project it.”
“I was getting to that, Elaine,” Colleen said with a pout. She pivoted toward me again. “A long time ago, Daverose started his business when he purchased a dark magic boulder from a black market vendor in the Passage Perelous. Those who touch the rock are sent to a dream version of their present environment. He has the boulder in the Tower, siphons off its magic, and puts it into gems cut from Avalonian glass. Those are the gems in the choker necklaces, which are keeping every girl trapped in a dream state.”
“The wretched part is that simply being aware of the enchantment could free them all,” Hannah said. “That’s the way the magic dream state works. Those who are aware of the illusion can take control of it—shift the environment and make alterations. It is why the dream version of Bluebeard Tower is different than the real thing. Daverose is aware of the illusion. So in the dream version of Bluebeard Tower he removed the ladder in the ballroom, the exit that leads to the surface of the lake, the bed shelves with the girls, and other rooms of consequence.”
“He basically changed the environment to make us believe there is no way out, keeping us from suspecting what is really going on,” I summarized.
“Exactly,” a gangly ghost responded. “And again, the sad thing is that any of us could have altered the environment in the same way had we known it was a dream. But we didn’t learn that until we were dead.”
My mind connected more dots. “Those rings that Daverose and the tigermen wear. They have the same magic as the chokers, don’t they? The Bluebeards and the tigermen put them on to enter the dream world at will.”
Several of the ghosts nodded. I was catching on.
“They keep the rings in their pockets the rest of the time,” Hannah said. “That’s why they always wear a glove on one hand, for handling the rings. The moment their skin touches the magic in those Avalonian glass gems, they’re sucked into the dream world.”
“So how do they get out?” I asked. “I escaped when I went through the Little Cabinet. That’s when my choker fell off. But once Daverose and the tigermen put on the rings, they’re in there with the rest of us. Is there someone on the outside to take the rings off?”
“No, their exit is much easier than that,” a wavy-haired ghost replied. She seemed to be about my age. “I’m Charlotte,” she said. “And the Little Cabinet is everyone’s way out. It’s simple really. Every disease has a cure; every curse has a fix; and every form of dark magic has a loophole. In the case of this magic dream state, there’s an exit portal. However, Daverose has manipulated the environment to mask it behind the door of the Little Cabinet so girls won’t leave.”
“But it’s just a door,” I protested.
“It’s not just a door; it’s fear manipulation,” Charlotte responded. “Daverose calls that door the Little Cabinet because most of us are familiar with the old tales of Bluebeard. Since the Bluebeard species originated in Camelot, as kids we grow up with our parents telling us different scary stories about them, serving as warnings not to go off into the Shifting Forest alone. As a result, we associate the Little Cabinet with the death sentence that it carries in the stories, making us predisposed to be afraid of it. Between that and the reinforcement of showing off the heads of the girls who’ve disobeyed and gone through, Daverose is able to control us with fear. The majority of the girls he kidnaps are too scared to take the risk of opening the door because it takes a very special kind of defiant to choose almost certain death over servitude and obedience.”
I stared at the ghosts. There were sixteen of them. Sixteen girls who, like me, had broken out of Daverose’s illusion because they’d rather risk death than stay someone’s prisoner. Sixteen girls who were strong and strong-willed and who didn’t deserve to die here.
“When you all broke out of the dream world, you didn’t make a run for it, did you?” I asked, although I was already certain of the answer. These girls were just like me. Their hearts had taken them down the same path. “The reason Daverose captured you was because you hung back and tried to figure out what was happening to free the other girls, right?”
The ghosts nodded again.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You didn’t deserve this and I’m not leaving here without helping the other girls and helping you. If ending Daverose’s wickedness is the only way to complete your unfinished business and free your spirits of this place, I’ll get it done. For your sake as much as theirs.”
“Those are nice sentiments,” Charlotte said. “But I’m afraid you’re missing the obvious.”
“Which is?”
“You need to escape from this Chamber.”
“Well, that goes without saying, doesn’t it?”
“Currently it goes without doing either,” Elaine commented. “I don’t see you making any headway.”
“Um, hello? I’ve been kind of busy listening to the backstory. I’m totally on it now.” I pulled pointlessly at my restraints.
“Yeah, real impressive.” Elaine rolled her eyes.
“Oh, hush,” I said.
I glanced at the ghosts. They were staring at me expectantly, but also with a kind of worry that caused my anxiety to grow. I would never be able to think clearly with all those translucent faces watching me, reminding me of what lay in my near future if I didn’t move fast.
“Look,” I finally sighed. “This is hard enough without a ghostly peanut gallery. You guys want me to have a shot? For now, go into the halls and let me know if Daverose or one of the tigermen is coming. But one of you should come back in five minutes to check in on me, okay?”
“Okay,” Hannah responded. “But, Crisanta … do you really think you can do it?”
The ghosts looked at me with sincerity and sadness.
“Yes,” I said simply. “I haven’t survived seven Wonderlands to die here. I’m getting out and so are you. Oh, and you can call me Crisa.”
Some ghosts appeared hopeful; others seemed skeptical. Most of them respected my request for space and wished me luck before passing through the walls again. Only one ghost stayed behind. She was the most mature-looking specter and wore a long-sleeved, lace dress.
“You shouldn’t give them hope with such talk,” she said.
“You sound so sure I won’t succeed,” I commented.
“Because I’m all but certain you won’t,” she replied. “I was the first girl that Daverose killed. My spirit has been in this Tower longer than you can imagine. I’ve watched fifteen other girls attempt to break out of these chains just like I did. And I’ve watched fifteen girls die because in the end, without the key, those cuffs are locked onto you.”
“There has to be a way.”
“Perhaps there is, but I have no idea what it might be. I’ve seen everything. Several girls have tried picking the locks with hairpins or clips. Others like Charlotte used earrings or jewelry in their attempts at the same. Elaine employed a head-on assault to try and get the keys for the cuffs. When one of Daverose’s tigermen came to ready her, Elaine attacked him. She managed to headbutt him, kick him in the groin, and bite off a chunk of his left ear before backup arrived. Colleen tried something similar, only she wrapped her legs around the tigerman that came at her and nearly strangled him to death. But, just like with Elaine, all the servant had to do was shout, and reinforcements came running.”
“Okay, well that’s a just a few methods I won’t try then.”
“You’re not listening,” the ghost protested. “Again, and again, even the most aggressive and imaginative solutions for getting out of these cuffs have failed. I even witnessed one girl with amazing core strength lift her feet up to where her hands were hanging and remove a knife she had hidden inside her boot. But she failed too.”
“Not that I’m not loving the pep talk,” I said irritably. “But what’s your point?”
“My point is that the girls who escape Daverose’s dream world are strong, bold, and relentless, but none have managed to succeed h
ere. So I think it is wrong of them to expect anything different from you.”
“You don’t know me, um …”
“Laurel.”
“Laurel,” I repeated with a nod. “I don’t think I’m stronger than any of the girls Daverose has killed, but I have one quality that others don’t.”
“And what’s that?”
“Unapologetic crazy.”
Laurel gave me a final pitying gaze and then disappeared in silence.
Good, I don’t need her negativity.
I had no doubt that the girls before me had tried every plausible way to break out of these cuffs. I wasn’t going to waste my precious time attempting the same. Intelligence and creativity were great, but what had kept me alive this long was my tendency to disregard the likely and court the risky. Implausible, long-shot plans were my specialty.
I glanced up at the hook my chains were hanging from. It wasn’t small like the hook of a mountain climber’s rigging. It was thick and looked to be constructed of iron. There was no way I could break it with my weight, no matter how much force I applied.
As I stared up, another droplet of water leaked from the pipes and hit my forehead. When it splashed down, so did an idea. There was a decent amount of space between some of the pipes, particularly the few above my head. What if I got up there and then …
I worked out a few calculations in my head, taking into account the approximate length of my chains and the width and height of the room.
Hmm. If my plan didn’t work, it would get me killed before my scheduled execution with Daverose. If it did work, I would be free.
Definitely worth the risk.
I braced myself and crouched down as low as my restraints would allow. From that hinged position, I launched myself off the floor with the most powerful jump I could muster and wrapped my fingers around the chains. With a grunt and a heave, I pulled my body up. Slowly but steadily, I climbed the chains like they were ropes in a gymnasium, only this was way harder because of the slippery metal and the weight of the chains that increased as I went higher.
Crisanta Knight: To Death & Back Page 26