Chapter forty-three
Janitor in a cell
Morris pulled a sleek device from his pocket, clicking it open with an air of satisfaction.
In an instant, a blinding beam of light enveloped her, and when it faded, Elizabeth found herself face down on a cold, damp floor, every breath laced with the musty scent of the stone walls surrounding her. Struggling to rise, Elizabeth looked around, her heart sinking as recognition struck her like a jolt. She was in a cell, the sa one from her haunting dream that had felt so real.
The cell reeked of salt and despair.
Elizabeth ran a hand over the stone wall, her fingers brushing moss and sothing sticky—blood, maybe, or rot. She stood by the iron door, her breath visible in the frigid air, as Datura’s high, trilling voice echoed through the corridor outside.
“Just a little dusting, dear! The guards say this cell’s been… neglected. Do try to make it shine!”
Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “Why this cell? It’s in the farthest wing. No one’s been here in years.”
As her gaze lingering on the rusted bars, a chill ran down her spine.
“Sothing’s wrong. She’s too eager.”
The door slamd shut. A key turned in the lock—click.
She froze.
“Datura?” Elizabeth called, her voice shaking. “That’s not funny. Open the door.”
No answer. Just the distant, cold rattle of chains. And then—fainter, but unmistakable—the soft, sucking sound of darkness gliding closer.
The temperature plumted. Elizabeth’s teeth chattered as mories flooded her—failed exams, her parents’ disappointed faces, the sound of her own sobs after a fight.
She took a deep, steadying breath, her fingers instinctively reaching for her cherished necklace, its smooth surface a comfort in the bleakness of her situation.
What if Victoria is sowhere here?
"Elizabeth? What have you done? How co you end up here?" a frustrated voice rang in the corner.
Elizabeth spun around and found Victoria huddling in a corner.
Her eyes were fixed on Elizabeth.
Elizabeth grabbed Victoria’s hand, his wand trembling. “She locked us in.”
She stumbled, and Victoria caught her.
"I fight—" whispered Elizabeth, trying to look tough.
"Save it." Whispered Victoria, "I know you fight.”
“I thought I got it—thought courage was just swinging a sword stupidly. But being stuck here —listening to every water drop like a death knell?”
Victoria sighed, lowering her head, the fire still in her eyes, her head suddenly snapped up,
“That’s when I realized—courage is fighting even when you’re tied up. Even when you’re scared, it’s about fighting for the right thing even though you know the consequences are severe.”
“We gotta make it, we won’t satisfy them.” Reassured Elizabeth as she sat her lofty head on Elizabeth’s shoulder. Elizabeth felt a shimr of hope; she looked down and gently stroked her friend’s hair.
With a deep breath, she sighed.
“Focus,” Elizabeth gasped, squeezing her hand. “On . On now.”
“It’s gonna be over. And we’ll be okay.”
In the darkness, the two figures huddling together, cold drops of water dripping to the floor, were the only sound in this eerily silent chamber.
Long hours went by, and no one ca.
The silence stretched on.
And in that silence, they began to believe it.
They were alone.
If this was what Datura wanted, she had succeeded.
But not for a long shot.
“We can’t just wait,” Veronica snapped, pushing her chair back so hard it scraped against the stone floor. “Every minute we sit here, she’s stuck… wherever she put her. The hell, for heaven’s sake, Hel’s underworld, I should’ve known—”
“Veronica’s right,” Percy said, his voice steadier than usual. “My gran always said, ‘If you see injustice, you don’t hide.’ And this? This is injustice.”
Lucius scoffed. “Easy for you to say, Harrison. What’re we gonna do? Storm the Underground? We’re underaged kids with fire bolts that still backfire half the ti!”
“Not the Underground yet,” Veronica shot back, her mind racing. “First, we need proof. If we can find out where she took her—exactly—we can force soone to act. The Fairy Lord? The Committee? Soone has to stop her.”
“Unlikely,” Emily muttered. “He’d probably cheer if she locked Elizabeth up.”
“The Fairy Lord is in her pocket. He thinks she hung the moon. And the rest of the Committee’s too scared to cross her.”
Veronica raked a hand through her hair, looking more stressed than usual. “Then we break her out. Simple.”
Percy’s voice was low, dangerous. “We have to find a way to get her out. Whatever it takes.”
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They scattered, chairs scraping, voices fading as they slipped into the corridors—each with a knot in their stomach, and a single, urgent thought: Find her. Before it’s too late.
The office door swung open.
The heavy office door swung open with a creak, revealing a dimly lit space filled with an air of mystery. Penelope stepped inside, her heart racing with anticipation. The walls were lined with shelves containing countless bound tos and curious artifacts, but her gaze was instantly drawn to the figure across the room.
Datura Jasmine, a striking woman with cascading hair and piercing green eyes, sat comfortably in a plush, squashy armchair that seed to absorb her presence. Before her was a large, shimring screen that flickered with a life of its own, casting a soft glow in the otherwise shadowy room.
"Welco, my dear," Datura whispered, her voice smooth and inviting, as she gestured for Penelope to take a seat beside her, the fabric of the chair feeling surprisingly warm. Penelope felt a mix of nervousness and excitent as she settled into the plush cushioning, eager to learn more about their mission. Datura leaned forward, her expression turning serious.
"Our task is critical—there are forces at play that seek to undermine our very existence. The Soulblenders, allied with the dark lord, are scheming to reclaim power, and we cannot allow them to reach the jewels before us. Those jewels hold the power to shape our domain; if they fall into the wrong hands, it could spell disaster."
"Yes, miss," Penelope replied with a determined nod, her resolve strengthening with every word. Datura pointed toward the screen, where a large, deserted arena materialized in vivid detail. The ground was cracked and barren, scattered with remnants of a long-forgotten battle.
"This is where we will deploy our magic. We use intricate magic arrays to create obstacles—it's crucial that we make it challenging for our enemies to advance."
With that, Datura opened a drawer that seed to sparkle as it revealed its contents. Inside were hundreds of glistening crystal vitals, each one ticulously arranged and pulsing with energy.
A low growl reverberated through the cold, damp air, sending a shiver down Elizabeth's spine.
The oppressive darkness of the prison seed to thicken around her, amplifying every sound. Each sound seed to bounce off the stone walls.
Suddenly, a brilliant shaft of light burst forth, cutting through the gloom and casting stark shadows across the rough, stone walls.
Within the glowing circle, a nacing figure erged—a silhouette of a creature that sent chills coursing through her veins.
It was drawings nearer.
The being was unlike anything she had ever seen, with bony wings protruding from its back, stretching wide and ominous. The wings flapped slowly, creating a chilling gust that brushed against her neck, making the hairs on her arms stand up, as if a ghostly breath was whispering threats into her ear.
Whatever it was, it was after her.
Elizabeth’s heart raced as the realization dawned upon her: this was no ordinary beast.
The creature that lood before her was the Evil-Scarlet—a horrific mutation born from the original Nonblenders, twisted and corrupted into sothing far more sinister.
It was closing in on her, and every instinct scread for her to flee.
The Evil-Scarlet's sharp fangs glistened in the light.
Elizabeth shuddered.
Every part of her was screaming to run, to get the heck out of there.
But her legs felt glued to the ground, fear rooting her in place.
Her breath caught in her throat as the realization dawned: she wasn’t the only one in danger.
"Elizabeth? Where are you? Are you alright?" The frantic voices reverberated through the dimly lit corridor, piercing the heavy silence that enveloped her like a thick fog.
The familiar echoes jolted Elizabeth from her daydreams, which had guarded her sanity in this wretched place. As she glanced through the grimy bars of her prison, disbelief washed over her.
Who would be brave—or foolish—enough to venture into this forsaken realm to rescue her and her friend, Victoria?
She leaned against the cold, unyielding tal, her fingers brushing against the rusty iron that held them captive.
Each droplet of water that dripped monotonously from the ceiling added to her mounting despair, creating a symphony of isolation that echoed endlessly around her.
Desperation clawed at her heart, urging her to blink back the tears threatening to spill. Struggling with her emotions, she pressed her palms hard against the bars, trying to remain stoic for her friends. But the unbearable confinent was pushing her to her breaking point—quiet desperation gnawed at her, each drop resonating like a countdown to madness.
"Elizabeth? Where are you?" The voices crescendoed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps racing down the corridor.
A wave of relief washed over her as she sank to the damp heap of straw in the corner, wrapping her arms around herself like a fragile shield, her face buried in her lap as if the world could simply vanish.
"Oh, thank the heavens, there you are!" Emily’s voice burst forth, tinged with urgency and relief as she dashed toward Elizabeth, closely followed by Percy.
Elizabeth blinked, her heart fluttering with incredulity.
Could it truly be—was Veronica here to rescue her as well?
"You’ve really outdone yourself this ti, you reckless idiot!" Veronica shouted, throwing her hands up in dramatic exasperation as she darted over to Elizabeth, her relief almost palpable.
A wave of guilt hit Elizabeth like a ton of bricks. "You’re not actually mad at for acting all high and mighty at the ball, right?" she asked, her voice tight with worry.
Veronica shook her head, wiping the sweat from her brow with a smirk. "You really have no clue how heavy this fight is, do you? But frankly, you’ve got guts, and I admire that."
"How did you even find us in this horrible place?" Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled with a mix of awe and disbelief amidst the chaos.
"This is our third wild ride, welco to the kingdom of death," Percy interjected, a wry grin breaking through his worried expression. He brandished the frost dagger with a flourish, the blade glimring in the dim light like a beacon of hope.
With smooth confidence, he approached the door and deftly unlocked it, his movents fluid, like he was born for this.
"Oh, right, that’s totally why I’m here," Veronica chid in with a mock roll of her eyes, though her lips twitched with a hidden smile.
“Oh yeah, that's why I'm here," Veronica chid in sarcastically with a mock roll of her eyes, though her lips twitched with a hidden smile. "Otherwise, I wouldn't even bother lifting a finger to get you both out of here."
With a loud click, Percy twisted the dagger. The iron bars shimred and began to thin out, dissolving into vapor right before their eyes. The oppressive atmosphere felt like it was lifting, and for the first ti, Elizabeth felt a spark of hope.
As the bars disappeared, Elizabeth nearly stumbled right into Percy’s arms, her legs buckled beneath her.
It was like the world paused for a second, their eyes locking in a mont filled with unspoken words, while Veronica hurried to assist Victoria, pulling her gently from the confines of her cell.
His gaze was locked on hers, intense and electric, sending shivers down her spine and making her heart race with a blend of longing and excitent. Everything else—the noise, the chaos—just lted away.
“Let’s blow this joint!” Emily said, her voice calm but urgent, breaking the mont.
Percy didn’t waste a second. He reached out, his hand finding hers, and the touch sent a thrill through her. As he pulled her close, she could feel the warmth radiating off him. Percy leaned in, whispering, “Stick close to .” Yeah, like she could do anything else.
While they darted toward the door, she caught a glimpse of Veronica in the corner, arms crossed, a fake scowl plastered on her face.
“Oh, look at you two, all cozy!” she called out. Percy shot a grin at Elizabeth, and just like that, the tension between them thickened.
“Ignore her,” he said, his voice low as they slipped past the crowd. With every step, the world outside felt more inviting, but for now, all she wanted was to be close to him.
“Ready?” he asked, his eyes locking onto hers again. She nodded, breathless. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a door out of thin air, leading them to escape. Percy held onto Elizabeth a beat longer than necessary, then, with a nod, he steeled himself.
Outside, the sun was rising over the sea, painting the sky pink. Elizabeth let out a shaky laugh, leaning against Percy.
“Remind never to trust you again when you say ‘we’ll handle it,’” she muttered.
Percy grinned. “Deal.”
They were safe. For now.
And Datura?
She’d have to answer for this.
One way or another.
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