by Tara Grayce
After another hour or so, two of the farffles-turned-men tromp down the stairs and slide trays through a hatch at the base of our doors. Whatever spell Melltra has on them must be powerful for her to be able to give instructions like delivering food and fetching us for interrogation.
I inspect the hard slice of bread, glass of water, and bowl filled with a watery, pink-colored slop that looks to be a badly made version of scivvey, a cross between mashed potatoes and porridge, just with Averellian grains and a pink-colored tuber sort of like a yam.
Would Melltra poison us? I’m not sure. She hinted that she needs us alive to prolong the war, but how are we to know when she decides to kill one of us?
But starving ourselves isn’t going to get us very far either. Not if we want to be strong enough to escape.
“Not too bad.” Trygg calls out from across the dungeon. I’m sitting on the floor of my cell, so I can’t see him, but I can guess his face and fingers are plastered with scivvey. “For something made by brainless, enchanted farffles.”
“I would’ve preferred the farffles.” The scorn in Herockghyrra’s voice doesn’t seem to be directed at us.
“Maybe for our next meal a few of them will kindly fall into the pot for you. I would be happy to give them a helpful shove.” Trygg smacks his lips, probably licking his fingers clean.
I dip my fingers into my scivvey. “I’ll go along with that. Maybe they’ll even provide proper utensils next time. They would be helpful for picking locks.”
In the cell next to mine, Brett heaves a sigh. “I can’t eat this, can I?”
I wince. Here the rest of us are slurping and eating, and Brett can’t eat the food even if he is as hungry as the rest of us. “No, sorry. You might be able to take a few sips of the water, but even that’s a risk. You’d be better off dumping it all down the latrine to take away the temptation.”
“I’m sorry I can’t pass my plate over to you. If I can’t eat it, it would be better if the food didn’t go to waste.” Brett’s feet slap against the stones. His toes must be getting cold, barefoot as he is.
“I’m fine. If it makes you feel better, the food isn’t all that good.” I eye the roll. I’m not sure if it’s worth trying to eat it, or better to save it to use as a weapon against the guards. I pick up my cup of water and swirl the liquid around in it. It has a few dark flakes in it that look and smell like ash, but it is otherwise more or less sanitary.
Water.
Something niggles in my memory. Nella, the naiad, telling me that all I have to do to invite her to the castle is pour water into the water system and call her name.
All water soaks through the ground and joins the underground rivers, flowing into each other eventually. I don’t know how long it will take water to work its way into the water system from here, but I have to try.
I’m not sure what the plan is, if I’ll ask Nella to help us escape or carry a message to our parents or what, but if she can get here, we will have options.
I kneel next to the latrine in my cell and speak into my cup of water. “Nella. I need help.” I pour half the water down the hole before I drink the rest.
Will she get the message? Even if she does, how long will it take?
It doesn’t matter. It’s worth trying even something that seems this insignificant.
We have to escape. Soon. If we don’t, Brett will die. Our parents will go to war. And the beauty of Averell will be reduced to the ashes of the castle around me.
I can’t let that happen. Whatever it takes, I will escape.
Chapter 14
I Use Water to Make a Phone Call
“Trygg, do you remember that naiad fangirl of mine we ran into?” I make myself comfortable leaning against the wall of my cell. “If everything works like she said it would, I think I just managed to send her a message to help us.”
“Really? Is she going to warn your dad and my uncle? Tell them about Melltra?” Trygg sounds so eager.
“No. Sorry. I’m not sure how water communication works. I didn’t dare send too long of a message and risk it getting garbled. I just asked for her help. I think she should be able to find us by figuring out where my message came from.” I rest my head against the wall. My internal clock is telling me it’s getting late here in Averell.
It’s also approaching Sunday evening in Michigan. The time discrepancy is leveling out and slowing down once again. Has some of my family gone back to Michigan? Does that mean something is going bad in Michigan—such as the police investigating my family for kidnapping Brett? Or is something wrong in Averell?
If we are facing a war against the dragons, the first thing my dad will do is send Mom and Ryan to stay in Michigan where they will be safe. Maybe even Gary too, if Gary doesn’t get all stubborn about his place being in Averell during this crisis. Dad lost his parents in the last war. He won’t let Mom, Ryan, and Gary stay in danger this time, even if it means facing the dragons all alone.
Maybe even dying alone.
No, no, no. I can’t think like that. Dad has to be fine. Mom, Ryan, and Gary will be fine. No one is going to die. No one is going to be arrested for kidnapping. We are going to escape. We are going to stop this war. And we are going to get Brett back to Earth before he dies here in Averell.
“Well, at least help is coming.” The sounds of fabric scraping the wall comes from Trygg’s cell, as if he slid down into a sitting position. Based on his exaggerated sigh, I guess he linked his hands behind his head. “We can just relax and wait for rescue.”
“If you think I’m going to just sit here and wait for rescue from some naiad, I will burn your tail off when we get out of this.” Herockghyrra growls.
Dragons and naiads get along only marginally better than dragons and unicorns. Water and fire, and all that. If it wasn’t for the fact that dragons need to drink water just like everyone else, they probably wouldn’t get along at all.
I close my eyes and try to get more comfortable. “No, we aren’t going to just wait around for rescue, but it doesn’t hurt to call for help when we have the chance. But Trygg is also right. It has been a long day. It wouldn’t hurt to sleep for a few hours, if we can.”
I curl on the stone floor and try to get comfortable. The stone aches against my hip bone, and cold seeps through my clothes. I pillow my head on my arm, but my fingers soon go numb and my elbow hurts from the floor.
Somehow, I manage to doze for a couple of hours before shifting and scraping sounds from the other cells tell me my friends aren’t getting any more sleep than I am. None of us are tired enough yet to fall asleep on the cold, stone floor.
Swiping hair from my face, I sit up. “How is everyone doing? Trygg? Brett?”
“Whatever punishment my dad has thought up for all this, it isn’t going to be worse than this dungeon.” Trygg makes an exaggerated groaning noise. “I’d even take having your dad lock us up in the Largone Castle dungeons. You guys at least have cots and blankets.”
“I’d even take a pile of moldy straw.” I rub at my shoulder. I’m pretty sure I have a bruise from lying on the floor. “Brett?”
There’s a pause.
“This dungeon...it isn’t warm, is it?” Brett’s voice is tight, strained.
I clench my fists as a weight the size of Largone Castle settles in my stomach. “No, it isn’t.”
“That’s what I thought.” Brett sounds almost resigned. “I have a splitting headache too.”
A fever. Headache. He’s getting worse, fast. His body has been away from Earth too long, and this time, there’s no unicorn horn powder to help him.
“How long, do you think?”
I want to lie. Is this what doctors feel like when they have to tell patients they have terminal cancer?
But I’m only fifteen. I shouldn’t have to be the one responsible for telling a friend how long he has until he dies.
If I had gone about this the right away...if I had gone to my parents the moment Brett stumbled into Averell, would we have bee
n stuck here now?
Trygg and I might still be. Dad would’ve gone after Brett while Trygg and I stayed back at Largone Castle. Melltra’s farffles still would’ve snatched us.
But Dad would have found Brett and gotten him back to Earth. Brett, at least, would’ve been safe.
If Brett dies, it will be my fault for thinking I could handle this alone without help.
I swallow and take in a shaky breath. “You’ll probably be unconscious by this time tomorrow and after that...maybe a day.”
“I see.” His tone is so quiet I have no doubt he does see. “Amy, if you make it out of this and I don’t—”
“Brett.” I can’t let him say it. I don’t want to hear dying words. Not out of Brett. He’s just a normal kid from my normal high school back in Michigan. If not for me, he wouldn’t be sitting in an evil magician-monster’s dungeon waiting to die.
No, he isn’t going to die. He can’t.
“Amy, listen. Please. I can’t...I need my mom and sisters to know I love them, okay? I know they know, but I just...” Brett’s voice cracks.
“Sure.” I push to my feet and press a hand to the stone wall that separates our cells. “But I’m not going to let that happen, got that? I am going to make sure you get back to them.”
Silence.
My heartrate speeds up. Has Brett already passed out? Is he already fading and dying?
“You’re different over here. At school, you’re always so quiet. You just follow along with whatever Erin says. But here, you’re a leader.” Brett’s voice holds a bit more strength than it had a moment ago. Is he rallying? Or going a bit loopy already?
“I’m a princess here. I’m just a normal teenager over there. Of course I’m different.” I try to keep the words light. A joke. As much as I can joke about being two different people in many ways. I’m always me, yet Amy Corin of Michigan, USA isn’t exactly the same person as Princess Amarani Coriantha of Averell.
Until Brett stumbled into Averell, those two sides of me had never mixed. Never had to mix. Sure, my family sees both sides of me. But they all have two sides as well. All of us shift between our dual lives and realms nearly thoughtlessly. It’s just our reality.
But it isn’t Brett’s. Perhaps Trygg or Herockghyrra would understand. In a way, they have two personalities with their two forms. But their forms are both in the same realm. Not two different realms and lives.
Trygg’s voice is quiet. “Your friend isn’t doing well, is he?”
I shake myself and stand. Trygg and Herockghyrra have remained remarkably silent while Brett and I talk in a language they can’t understand. But Trygg must’ve gathered enough from the tone to figure out what is going on.
“No, he isn’t. If we don’t get out of here, I don’t think he’s going to last much past two days, if he even makes it that long.” I lean against the cell bars. Somehow, it’s easier to say those words in Averellian. As if slipping into my princess side helps me stay cold and logical, detached from someone I consider almost a friend in another life.
Herockghyrra arches her eyebrow, her mouth curling, her nose wrinkling. “What’s wrong with him? Is it catching?”
“It’s magical in nature. Don’t worry, you can’t get it.” I can’t let her get the wrong impression. Our fragile, almost alliance with Herockghyrra could fall apart at the slightest provocation.
Herockghyrra sniffs. “I thought I smelled something spoiled. I assumed it was the unicorn filth in the next cell.”
“Insults and name-calling.” Trygg shakes his head. “I guess sympathy is too much to ask from a fire-belly.”
“Guys. This isn’t helping.” I glare at the two of them until they stop glaring at each other. “I don’t intend to just sit here while Brett dies, got that? So let’s get back to work prying up metal to pick the locks before our lock-picking expert goes into a coma.”
I don’t wait to see if they follow my orders. Kneeling by the grate to the latrine, I attack it with all the vengeance and anger I can muster.
I can’t let Brett die.
I can’t let Melltra start a war.
I can’t give up.
A shriek of metal and a snap fills the dungeon.
I stare down at the grate in my fingers. My grate hasn’t broken, even though it is now bent out of shape on the rusted side.
“That, unicorn boy, is how it’s done.” Herockghyrra’s voice purrs through the dungeon.
Trygg grunts, and metal creaking fills the dungeon once again.
Herockghyrra has done it. That means I might be able to as well, ignoring the fact that she’s the strongest one of all of us, even in her silvaran form.
When I turn back to the grate in my cell, I jump back and stare. Water is flowing up and out of the grate, puddling in the center of the cell.
The last trailing arm of water flows out of the grate, and the water stands and expands, solidifying into the form of a beaming, smiling girl with blue hair.
“Princess Amarani! You invited me! You...oh.” Nella turns in a slow circle. “What are you doing in a dungeon?”
Chapter 15
We Ask a Puddle to Save Our Lives
“Nella!” For a moment, all I can do is stare, unable to believe my idea actually worked. The way my plans have been going lately, I’m not sure what I expected. “It’s a long story. Well, actually, not really too long. Melltra Larrona has an army of evil farffles that she used to capture us, and now we have to escape before she starts a war between the silvarans, dragons, and unicorns.”
And before Brett dies.
Nella’s eyes widen until they are as round and liquid as two deep pools at the base of a waterfall. “And you called me for help? What do you want me to do? Floods and tidal waves, you asked me for help!”
She gapes at me with the same expression I could imagine Erin wearing if the Queen of England asked her for a favor.
Nella expects me to know what to do. I freeze. Brett said I am different here. More of a leader.
But I don’t feel like a leader. I called Nella here, and now I don’t even know what to ask her to do. What is the plan? Should I have her go for help? Try to free us? Help us escape somehow?
The most important thing is getting a message out and stopping the war. Once our parents know where we are, it won’t take them long to storm this castle to free us. I would still prefer to escape first since I don’t know if they would get here in time for Brett or if Melltra would use us as hostages against our parents.
“I don’t know a lot about water communication. Is it possible to send a longer message or would it be better to communicate in person?” Some of the knots in my chest loosen. Focus on the logical details. That’s what I have to do. “I didn’t dare send too long of a message to you in case it got garbled.”
“Yeah, that can happen if you aren’t careful.” Nella stares up at the ceiling, rolling a handful of water between her palms. “I can send a message to my parents. They’ll help.”
Would more of the naiads? I don’t know where Nella and her parents fall in the naiad hierarchy, and it’s probably best not to ask.
“You’ll need to tell them to inform King Finian, the Stallion, and the Flame that Melltra Larrona has Princess Amarani of the silvarans, Tryggvey of the unicorns, and Herockghyrra of the dragons locked in the dungeon of Eekrok Castle. She has an army of enchanted farffles who knocked us out with their venom. Tell them she plans to use us to incite a war.”
Nella’s lips move as she murmurs the instructions over to herself. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Trygg, Herockghyrra? Do you think we should add anything?” I peer over to my shoulder.
Trygg’s face appears in his cell window. “Nope. Sounds good to me.”
“You do realize my mother is unlikely to listen to the water benders any more than she would listen to your father.” Herockghyrra steps up to her cell window, fingering a piece of metal in her hands as if already bored with this conversation.
“We’ll still h
ave to escape ourselves, I know.” I let out a slow breath to keep from saying anything sarcastic. Apparently, I have to be the mature and reasonable one. “But at least our parents will be informed, whether or not they listen.”
“I can help you escape.” Nella bounces closer to me and reaches for the shackle around my ankle. She jabs her finger at it, wincing when the end of her finger collides with the metal around the key hole. She tries again and frowns. “Or, maybe not. I usually can use my water form to move the gears inside.”
I don’t ask how or why Nella learned how to pick locks in her water form. “Our shackles, and I assume the doors, have been enchanted so that we can’t change into our other form, if we have one. Otherwise, Herockghyrra would’ve just turned into a dragon, yanked the chain out of the wall, and burned the door down.”
“Oh, right.” Nella sits back on her heels. “You guys really are in trouble, aren’t you?”
I’m not sure if I should be worried that Nella isn’t taking this completely seriously. Maybe I should send her with the message personally instead of having her stay here to try to help. What if something happens to her? Can I really ask her to put herself into danger for us?
“Yes, we are. And it’s dangerous. Even for you.”
Nella shrugs. “Not really. Not much can hurt water besides fire.”
“Melltra is part dragon. I’m not sure if she can breathe fire in her other form, but I wouldn’t rule that out.” I shudder, remembering her silvaran head covered in dragon scales.
Nella frowns. “That’s a problem, isn’t it? Well, I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t see me.”
I’m not sure it’s going to be as easy as that, but we can hope. “Why don’t we start with that message? That’s the most important thing.”
Nella plops into a cross-legged position by the latrine hole. Water drips from her fingers into the hole, and she begins muttering in the naiad language, a gurgling, murmuring sort of words.