Olivia rocked on her feet, looking at me expectantly.
“Er...Olivia, you can choose to join Genevieve or Tori, or both of them if you prefer,” I said.
She frowned, but nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Will you be alright on your own?”
My lips twitched upward. The tuft of straw I was eying swirled in the air in a figure eight. “Of course. I’m a witch.”
IT WAS NEVER TRULY quiet in the dungeon. The guards snored, the prisoners moaned, and the rodents squeaked. A rat scurried across my cell and wriggled into a hole in the wall.
Normally, I would’ve been terrified. But worse things awaited beyond the dungeon walls. I hoped I’d be ready to face them within the next hour.
My pockets hung heavy with two vials—Erasmus’s sleeping draught and my unfinished truth potion. Both were still covered in a greasy film of lard. Erasmus had hidden them in last night’s stew.
I pulled out the sleeping draught and pressed my ear to the door. Shortly after Tori, Olivia, and Genevieve’s visit, two new guards were stationed outside my cell. Luckily, they were a loud pair. Even their snores were deafening. It made it easy to determine their schedule. Each night they dined before my door and passed out drunk until midnight. Tonight, if all went according to plan, they wouldn’t awaken till morning.
“Care for a game of cards over dinner, Ken?”
“And leave the witch’s cell unguarded? Have you gone mad?”
“It’s been four days. She would’ve escaped by now if she meant to.”
“Well, Ronnie, maybe she already has. We’ve never locked a witch up before. Perhaps there’s a reason for that. They’ll just end up using some voodoo or other to magic themselves away.”
“That’s hardly our fault, then, is it?”
There was a pause. “I suppose not.”
“Cards it is. I’ll deal.”
“Hold on. We ought to check if she’s still there.”
“Alright. You do it.”
“Me? You do it.”
“No, you.”
Ken gave an exasperated sigh. “How about we both do it?”
“Fine.”
“On the count of three?”
“One. Two. Three!”
I scrambled a few paces back from the door as the food slot lifted open. Two pale faces peered in, one bearded and the other freckled.
I gave them my sweetest smile. “Hello there.”
The slot slammed shut, followed by screeches that rivaled even the maddest of prisoners. A moment of silence passed.
“She seems rather charming, don’t you think?”
“Shut up, Ronnie. Just deal the cards.”
I waited several minutes before raising the slot a hair’s width to peer out. Ken and Ronnie were several feet away, seated across from each other at a square table. A sparse dinner of bread and cheese sat before them, a single jug of ale at the far side. The two started playing cards.
I uncorked the sleeping draught. Slowly but surely, I levitated two fat drops of the clear liquid from the vial. They rippled as I pushed them through the slot and toward the guards, low on the ground.
“Damn you!” Ronnie slammed his fist down onto the table.
I jumped, almost letting the droplets splash.
Ken took a swig of ale and guffawed. “Serves you right for challenging me to cards.”
“Again! Again!”
I continued to push the sleeping draught forward as Ronnie gathered the cards and dealt them again. My eyes strained. The droplets were now making a perilous trek under the table in the space between the guards’ legs. My magic wavered. One of the droplets dribbled and transferred some of itself onto the floor.
I clutched my crystal and pushed. They swept high into the air. Too high.
Ronnie stopped dealing and squinted. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” The droplets hovered above Ken’s head. I pushed them higher against the far wall.
“Pesky flies,” Ronnie grunted, passing his companion another card.
Ken scoffed. “Wanted to slip yourself the good cards, didn’t you?”
The dealer’s face nearly grew as red as his beard. “I did not!”
“Did too.”
“Did not!”
The sleeping draught spiraled down into the jug as the guards bickered. They disappeared into the ale on contact. I closed the slot and let go of my breath, my eyes tingling and thrumming with magic. It felt wonderful.
Now it was time to wait.
It wasn’t long before the bickering ceased and snores thundered through the dungeon. I peered out again, more than relieved to find both Ronnie and Ken unconscious on the table. A ring of keys gleamed at Ken’s belt.
I unfastened the key wrought of black iron. The next thirty minutes were dedicated to the tricky business of predicting exactly where the monstrous iron lock was on the outside. I knew it was roughly in the middle of the door, but I had never tried to move an object I couldn’t see.
Frustration mounted, but half an hour of guesswork led to a satisfying click and the heavy clinking of unraveling chains. I ignored the pain in my neck and pushed open the door.
I had done it. I was free. Even the air outside of my cell smelled fresher. I crept out and closed the door behind me. With a sweep of my hand, the chains wound themselves back up and the lock refastened.
“Miss Flora?”
I nearly stumbled over myself, until I realized who it was. “Captain Greenwood?”
A pair of gray eyes appeared at the slot of the door next to mine. “I heard everything the other day. My daughter. Is it true?”
The heaviness of his voice told me he already knew it was. I nodded anyway, not knowing if it would appease or upset him.
He heaved a great sigh. “I guess it was expected, leaving her alone with Wilhelmina,” he said. He focused on me again. “But I still believe there is some good in her. There must be.”
“Captain...”
“Please, if you see Narcissa, promise you’ll take her away from her mother,” he said.
He spoke of her as if she were a little girl. Maybe in his mind she was. The thought of carrying Narcissa away from the duchess now was ridiculous at best and impossible at worst. But I didn’t have the heart to refuse Captain Greenwood.
“I will try,” I said.
“Thank you, Miss
