These leaves taste awful, but I need them to keep me awake. Kallisté left not too long ago, saying she'd be back soon while she left Kit to keep me company. The male wolf isn't bad. He let me fall asleep on his side like I do with Kallisté and even heated his body. How they do that, I'm not sure, but I'm not one to complain when it keeps me warm and their protection keeps me safe.

I woke up a few minutes ago, having felt something strange. I checked Clarice using my power, but nothing seemed wrong. Kit nor any of the other wolves will let me go back down to see her, but she has the medicine she needs since I left the bag of reinforcements with her, so I suppose I'm not necessarily needed. It hurts to think I'm useless, but seeing as I haven't been killed yet, I'd say it's worth it to keep shoving the plants down my throat. Even if they do taste bitter and sour.

"Do you think they'll come back?" I ask Kit.

Is that supposed to be a hard question

I scowl at the back of his head that lies between his paws. "It's annoying that you can't talk and yet I can still hear the sarcasm."

One of the many beauties of the written word

"I suppose. Do you know when Kallisté will return?"

Sooner than later

"That's so helpful, thank you, for absolutely nothing," I sneer, using his sarcasm against him. He doesn't even twitch an ear.

If it is help that you're seeking then look to the door

My head snaps to the cell door and I jump to my feet ready to see Garrison - or anyone else, it doesn't really matter - there to grab my hand and break me out. Kit stands as well and for a second my hope spikes, the feeling of adrenaline beginning to run through my veins. It all goes away when Kit stomps his foot, and I look down to read his new thoughts.

Wrong door

I turn to the tunnel entrance, once again preparing myself to see a familiar face. Kit's light shines brighter, the only sign that Kallisté is nearby. The door slides open and I resist the urge to run towards it in case it's Visha playing another trick with me. If she can control my body then she can sure as shit read my mind.

I release the breath I hadn't realized I was holding when Kallisté's head comes into view. There's still silence around her, but I can still hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing off of the walls. Her body takes up most of the width of the narrow tunnel, so I couldn't see who was walking behind her until she came fully into the room. Everything in me tenses when I see the little girl follow her, but I soon relax when Aracely comes next. My breath catches at the sight of Siscilla, her presence combined with Aracely's making my emotions skyrocket.

Siscilla's assessing look has me straightening my back and wishing that I had taken those mint leaves to try and clean my breath. She notices the left over and half empty vials and jars in the corner, likely already determining their contents without needing to look at them for more than a second.

"Where are the clarendale berries?" she asks, and I try not to have another breakdown at the sound of her voice. Siscilla's always taken care of me. Between her and Aracely, there's no questioning as to why I am the person that I am.

"Clarice has the jar," I answer, still standing where I am as I notice that Gretel and Darius's servant, Thomas, also came along. I don't know why he's here. Then again, I don't know why any of them are here. It's more dangerous to meet in the cell let alone the tunnels, but it seems that Kallisté knows otherwise, not even bothering to freeze over the door, so I don't say anything.

Siscilla comes up to me and I let her touch my forehead, feel my cheekbones, touch the pulse on my neck, then check my stomach...it has me struggling to hold back tears and a relieved smile at her familiar touch and the scrunch of her forehead that hints to her concentration. She's the Anevay for a reason. Always double-checking her power's assessment with her own hands. I can feel it, her power. It intertwines with my own as she shoots it through my body. That's when I suddenly realize that my hands are still fractured and beginning to heal improperly because of it.

I've been so distracted with other things that the pain of using them has become just something else for me to ignore. Siscilla has no such abilities and snatches my wrists before I can hide them behind my back. I wince at her grip, the pain now noticeable since I'm paying attention to it.

"What in ten hells happened?" she demands, carefully turning my hand over to inspect my palms.

Aracely practically sprints over to us, eyes searching for blood or a gaping wound, not mangled hands. "What are you talking about?"

"Her hands. There are seven fractures in each."

"What?" I glance at the cell door, still scared that the guard will come bursting through and killing all of us.

"Can I see?" I jump at the voice, not having realized that the younger girl came up beside me. Why is she so interested in seeing broken and bruised hands? Perhaps she'll be a future Sitara.

"These are nearly two cycles old!" Siscilla screeches, wrapping one of my hands in between both of hers. "Why aren't they healed?"

"I..." I drift off, shivering at the relief her healing brings as the fractures are carefully reset and bone bound back properly. The urge to cry at the loss of pain is hard to push aside.

"I was barely functioning on my own, and I needed the strength to keep Clarice alive..." She heals my second hand, then motions for me to test them. I do, going through the small movements that we usually have patients doing to make sure everything's working as it should be.

I can feel her power still covering my hands like a soft blanket as I flex my fingers, then flex them individually as if playing the piano. I twist my wrists, interlock my fingers, crack my knuckles, and then squeeze her hands as hard as I can when she holds them out to me. Once she's satisfied, she puts her own hands on her hips and looks to me like a scolding mother.

"I don't suppose I can necessarily be mad at you for doing the exact same thing I would," she concedes.

"No," Aracely agrees, albeit reluctantly. "But I can be mad at the fact that you didn't tell me before."

"We had more important things at hand - and I figured I could heal them once everyone got us out..."

"Speaking of which," Thomas says, still standing beside Gretel and - holy Gods, I didn't even see Queen Claritia walk in. I start to lower into a curtsy, but she shakes her head, stopping me. I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from arguing. "Why are we here?"

It's odd. I've never met the man, but after having memorized everything that Clarice told me about him, I feel like he's a long-lost friend.
"Yes, why are you here?" I ask all of them. "I mean don't get me wrong, it's great to see you and have my hands back, but someone's bound to know you're here sooner or later."

"We're here because we're the only ones who know why Clarice did what she did," the girl answers. I raise a brow in surprise. Of everyone here, I wouldn't have pinned her as the leader, but as I look around, it's clear enough that she somehow is.

"You're going to have to be more specific," I tell her. Clarice talked a lot, and she had more than just a few reasons to do what she did.

"First thing is first. I solved the riddle." I have no idea what she's talking about, but based on the way that the others stiffen at her claim, I'd say it's one hell of a riddle.

She pulls something out of her pocket and hands it to me before going to sit down against Kit's side. I'm troubled by how nonchalant she is. I look back down at what she put in my hand and unfold the cloth holding something warm inside. I try not to moan at the sight of the chicken thigh. I don't even care that everyone's here, I snap the ligaments and tendons still holding the two pieces of bone together and start tearing off the tender meat, the grease instantly coating my hands and cheeks.

"Why didn't you say something back when everyone was in the same room?" Gretel questions.

"Because no one in that room could hear it without storming out and instantly breaking down the walls of this castle to kill Will and try to kill Xaxias." My hand stops its course to my mouth mid-air.

"And why is that?" Both the girl and I ignore Thomas as her eyes meet mine.

"This is about what he's been doing when he's alone with her, isn't it?" I ask her through my bite of chicken. She nods, making my appetite disappear and anxiety return.

"Willdred Maron has been alone with Clarice, and you never said a word? What else are you not saying, Hira?"

"I thought it was impossible," I say to the girl, ignoring Aracely. This time she shakes her head. The chicken bones snap in my hands, one of their edges piercing my skin but I ignore it. In fact, I clench my fists tighter, pushing the bone deeper into my hand so I can feel my warm blood spilling out. Siscilla slaps the chicken out of my hand, making it skitter to a dark corner of the room. I'm half tempted to go pick it up and eat the rest of the meat like some estranged animal, but I'm too angry to really care for it now.

"Stupid girl," Siscilla mutters, already sealing the wound.

"Whatever you two know you better speak it before I begin beating it out of you." I flinch at Aracely's threat, all too used to hearing it come off of Arkyn's lips. I have to shove out his voice in my head that haunts my nightmares to focus.

The girl turns to Siscilla instead, her fingers drumming in her crossed knees. "As a healer, Siscilla, I'd thought you'd get it quicker than anyone."

A cycle. For a whole cycle, he's been...Oh, Gods and their Saints

Sicilla sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Get what quicker, Roseia?"

Once again the girl's eyes meet mine. I shake my head, begging her not to say it - to not give the possibility life or to put this onto their shoulders. She was right earlier. If everyone else knew they'd knock the entire castle down just to get to her - to - to-

And Gods as much as I want them to come here and save us, this is a bad idea. Siscilla and Aracely can be level-headed, but not when it comes to people they care about. Like Darius and Arthur and the Bhaltayr, they'll want revenge. They'll want death and suffering and blood for what The Eternal and Arykn have done. I've been in denial for days not wanting to believe it or even harbor the thought that it could happen, but I also completely ignored the signs and the implications because I knew that if it were true, I would've grabbed nightshade from the supply closet two days ago when I was back in the healer's tower, and I would've used it for both of us - even if Darius and the rest of them were close and could get us back, I wouldn't have taken the risk.

The girl bites her lip, only hesitating for that quick second our eyes meet with the same fear, but she turns back to everyone else, and I close my eyes. Kallisté and Kit both seal the door in ice now, though this time it spreads along the walls and in every crack, locking every ear that's not in the room out.

"No one else can know what we do. Not if we want to save Clarice."

The Queen steps forward, arms crossing in defiance. "You want us to keep a secret from my son?"

"Yes," the girl answers surely. I silently applaud her for not breaking the Queen's blazing stare.

"Why?"

"Because if we don't, he may do worse than put a hole in an abandoned forest."

*****

I haven't slept since Roseia and the others left, though I have tried several times to do so curled up in Kallisté's side. She told me sunrise came in a while ago, and I've been trying to think of her heat like that of the sun's to sleep, but it hasn't worked. Still, I jolt up when the sound of the cell door unlocking echoes. I once again picture someone coming to rescue us, but I know better and am not surprised when the guard who used to always watch me, opens the door.

I stand up out of habit, and I don't cringe or pull away from him when he takes me by the wrist and tugs me into the hallway. It is, however, unusual for him to do so. They never touch me unless I take too long to heal the girl.

"Has something happened?" I ask.

"The Eternal demands your presence in the prisoner's cell." I hate that they always refer to her as 'the prisoner.'

"Why?"

He doesn't answer right away, instead focused on sidestepping the water wolves who still lay casually about the stairs. We enter the hallway that leads to her cell, and just before we reach her door, the guard turns around, a devilish smile dancing on his lips.

"Incentive."

I look at him quizzically, but the realization sets in as I find Visha, Arkyn, The Eternal, and - to my utter disbelief - Eleanor and Charles, all standing in the cell. An unconscious, bruised, broken, and bleeding Clarice hanging from her chains hooked to the wall.
They've been beating her. Without me present. I take a step toward her, but the guard holds tight to my arm and throws me against the wall into my usual corner. My head hits the stone hard and I instantly find myself light-headed and blurry-eyed. One touch to the side of my head and I'm wincing in pain, my hand coming away wet and red.

Visha appears in front of me, both her canines and nails out as she drags one of the long things across my throat. "You will do nothing but keep your mouth shut, do as you're told, and in no way shape, or form, do anything aside from that unless you wish me to take control of you again. Understand?"

I don't answer her, knowing that the nod or single word could have the blood dripping down my neck run faster. She storms off, walking back through the door. Her curses bounce off the walls and echo back in here as everyone else but the guard at my side and the two by Clarice's follow Visha out, but there's only one word of hers that manages to reach my ears.

Rohana.

They're here.