Cold, the twins huddled in the corner as the woman overseeing them, and who they now knew as Yasmin, stepped to the bars. She untied something that hung around her neck, then dropped it in their cell. Once done, she headed Mara’s way. There, she repeated the procedure.
“You gave them some food,” the girl who accompanied her whispered. “Good for you. I just wish we could help them more.”
“Hush, Clementine,” Yasmin admonished as she turned back toward the sisters’ cell. “You’ve been warned—and you know what Broden said.”
Reigna’s head jerked up at the sound of her cousin’s name. She elbowed Eden and then, after catching her eye, inched toward the bars. She picked up the item that Yasmin had dropped there—a kerchief wrapped around something. Uncovering it, she discovered fresh bread.
“Who is this Broden of whom you speak?” she asked as she handed it to her sister. “I thought we were Zarek’s prisoners.”
“He’s his son,” Clementine said.
“Hush!” Yasmin scolded the girl again.
“His son?” Reigna said. “What’s his role here? He wasn’t with those who captured us.”
Yasmin scowled at her. Then, “He’s in charge of Zarek’s prison for women, if you must know,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now, silence!”
At that moment, the click-clacking of footsteps, making their way closer, sounded out.
A man neared Yasmin. “You’ve been warned not to speak to the prisoners.”
“I didn’t, sir,” she said. “I just told them they’d best eat their provisions before the rats do.”
As he looked into the cell, Eden slowly moved the bread under the shawl over her shoulders. After staring at her for a long minute, the guard finally retreated.
“If this—Broden—is in charge of the prison,” Eden whispered to Yasmin, “why haven’t we seen him in here?”
“He’s—” Clementine murmured.
“Hush!” Yasmin scolded her, yet again. Then she reached beneath the wrap she wore and removed two canteens. Walking past the cells nonchalantly, she dropped one inside each, tossing the one for Mara far enough to land softly on the bed of mildewed straw within.
Mara’s chain jangled as she retrieved the item. “Yasmin, come here,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” she muttered.
“Come here, or I’ll make a fuss and attract the guard’s attention.”
Tentatively, Yasmin approached. “What do you want?” she mumbled through gritted teeth, careful to keep her lips from moving.
“Why did you bring us this food and water?”
Bowing her head so as to remain discreet, she whispered, “Because what they leave for us to give to you is unfit.”
“And you have a heart.”
Yasmin glared at the prisoner. “I’m just like you.”
“I see.” Mara pulled on her chain. “We have to get out of here,” she said.
“There’s no way out.”
“Maybe you could help us.”
“I can’t.”
Mara nodded. “Yasmin, what can you tell us about Zarek’s son?”
Just then, the guard returned. “Hey!” he shouted. “Back away.”
Surprised, Yasmin jumped.
“I see I was wrong about you. You’re not to be trusted after all,” he said.
“No! I—”
He grabbed Yasmin’s wrist with one hand, and Clementine’s with the other. “You’ve been warned,” he seethed.
“It wasn’t us. I swear,” Yasmin said. “It was the prisoner who spoke.”
He looked in at Mara, then back at his captives. “Well, it won’t happen again,” he said.
When the guard entered his office, towing Yasmin and Clementine along, Broden jumped to his feet.
“What is it?” he demanded to know.
“They’ve been warned—repeatedly,” the man growled, “not to speak with the prisoners. But this one,” he added, jerking on Yasmin’s wrist, “has continued to do so anyway.”
Broden’s eyes flashed from her, to Clementine, then back. “I see,” he said. “Well, leave them here with me then.”
“Zarek ordered no contact. Since she can’t be trusted,” he pushed Yasmin away, “I’ll take her.” He gestured toward Carlie.
Her eyes opened wide in fear.
He approached the guard. Then standing before him, his arms crossed, he said, “That one was my father’s gift to me. She only goes if I say so.”
“Fine. I’ll take that one then,” he suggested, designating Farida with a pointed finger.
Biting his lip, Broden glanced at Carlie. He wanted her to go, in the event she might recognize Zarek’s prisoners.
She closed her eyes slowly. With a sigh, she nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“Never mind,” he said. “Go ahead. Take her.” He tipped his head Carlie’s way. “I have need of the other one’s assistance. I’m preparing a caravan of prisoners to send out today.”
“Fine by me.” The guard turned to Carlie. “Empty your pockets,” he ordered.
Having seen the guards do the same with Yasmin and Clementine, the order didn’t surprise her. She complied, setting out the items from there—a tie for her hair, and a dirty handkerchief—on the table before her.
“Let’s go then.”
When she stepped his way, he removed a bundle of black cloth from under his arm. “Put this on,” he ordered.
She opened the item to discover a shroud, without slits for her eyes. She draped it over her head. “I can’t see.”
He grabbed her arm “Never mind. This way.”
As he dragged her along, she fought her rising panic. She hadn’t felt so vulnerable since she’d been nabbed from the compound. Shaking with fear, she concentrated on where her feet were going, willing herself not to trip.
They made one right turn, then another. The patterns of the floorboards beneath her steps changed, but nothing more. Then she thought back to something Yasmin had mentioned about Zarek’s special prison, early on. She’d thought she’d been taken there via a circuitous route.
Just then, they rounded yet another right turn. Was this just another entrance into the same prison where she worked with Broden every day?
Suddenly, the air filled with the squeaking sound of a door opening. A most foul odor followed. She tried not to breath through her nose, but then the thought of taking the stench in from her mouth left her nauseated.
Finally, they halted.
The man ordered her to remove her shroud. Once done, he pointed down a hallway lined with cells. Barred windows high up in some of them allowed scant light in, as the sky was overcast with heavy gray clouds.
“In the last two cells down there,” he said, “you’ll find the prisoners. Now remember—I’ll be here the whole time. And you can trust me when I say that the last woman got off easy. It won’t happen again. There will be no talking to them. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“You will not communicate with them in any way.”
“I understand.”
He turned to his side where a bucket of bug-infested gruel sat on a table, along with a loaf of stale bread. He handed the items to her.
“You give them their food,” he said, “and you report to me, anything that you think is significant. That’s it. Understood?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be watching you at all times.”
“I understand.”
“Get at it, then.” He pushed her.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkened space, and her nose to the foul odors, she made her way. The first cells she passed were empty, but finally, she approached the first of the occupied cells.
Upon her arrival, a rat dived past her. She jumped out of its way, then looked up.
And that was when she dropped the bucket.
The guard rushed toward her. When he reached her side, he pulled his hand back, as though to strike her, but then seemed to think better of it.
“Damned clumsy, witch!” he cried. “Look what you’ve done!” He pointed at the mess.
“I’m sorry! There was a rat and—”
“Never mind.” He glanced in at Mara. “The prisoners will be fine without food until tomorrow.” He turned back. “Now clean this up!” he ordered, throwing a rag at Carlie before marching off.
She watched until he reached the end of the hallway before looking into the cell again. She held Mara’s gaze for a long moment. Then she squatted down to clean up the mess.
Gracious Ehyeh, but it stinks. How could anyone be expected to eat this?
Holding one hand over her nose, she mopped up the last of the spilled gruel. Then she put the rag in a bucket next to the nearby table.
Dreading what she might find, she proceeded to the next cell.
“Dear Good One!” she muttered under her breath, a hand over her mouth, upon sight of the twins.
“Shhhh . . . Carlie,” Reigna whispered. “We don’t want you in any trouble.”
She nodded.
“Are you all right?” Eden asked, her voice nearly inaudible.
Carlie’s eyes flashed toward the guard before she nodded again, faintly.
“Never mind about the food. It’s inedible anyway.”
Biting her lip, Carlie glanced up again, only to find the man staring at her.
She pulled back, then stood at the wall opposite the cells from whence she could see into both. Her thoughts in a turmoil, she leaned her head back, rested it against the wall, and closed her eyes. She had to tell Broden. She had to get him in here.
Dear Good One! Would he even know what to do?