Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“What do you think is happening to Monica right now?” I asked solemnly.
“There’s no way of knowing. All we do know is that Sarasin doesn’t murder people. He lets everyone go at the end of their stay.”
“Right, but there are many terrible things that can be inflicted short of death,” I said, feeling uneasy as I remembered Sarasin’s warning about the danger that hung over me. If the vision of my future was real, then it meant I survived the prison, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t endure something awful before I got out.
“You look troubled,” Vasilios commented, and I blew out a breath.
“I’m just thinking about something Sarasin told me before he showed me my future.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been having these weird dreams and absences since I entered this place. I don’t know why, but I keep seeing that tree from the courtyard. The one you warned me away from. It … calls to me,” I finished in a whisper, and Vasilios stopped walking. What I said appeared to have sobered him up.
“Calls to you how?”
“It’s an alluring sort of call that makes me want to go to it. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when I get there, but Sarasin said it wants my life force. He said someone’s controlling the tree, and they want me to hang myself from it just like all those others.”
“Did he say who it was?” Vasilios asked.
I shook my head. “He said they’ve shrouded their identity.”
He seemed to absorb that, then started walking again, and I kept pace. “So someone in here wants to make you their next victim,” he said in a quiet voice, and an eery chill swept through me.
“Maybe it’s good that I know they’re coming for me. I’ll be ready for them when they do.”
He turned his head and held my gaze. “We’ll be ready for them,” he said, and I couldn’t help feeling relieved. It was nice when someone had your back, even if you used to consider that someone your mortal enemy.
“Do you think I should say something to one of the guards? Hobbs is a dick, but maybe McClellan would be willing to investigate.”
“There’s no point. People have been dying on that tree for years, and they’ve done nothing to prevent it. It would be easy for them to cut it down, but they don’t because they don’t care what happens to us so long as we don’t escape. You know that’s how this place operates. It’s all down to the prisoners. We live our lives in confinement, and they observe. They only come in here if someone dies and the body needs to be removed.”
“Has that happened? Have you seen anyone die?”
Vasilios nodded. “I was only here a week when an inmate was found hanging from that tree. That’s why I was so adamant you stay away from it. There’s bad energy there. Even my magic is repelled by it, and my power is hardly the purest.”
I arched an eyebrow, surprised he was admitting his magic contained some darkness or grey at the very least. “Have you been thinking about what Marcel said about your father?” I asked quietly.
Vasilios made a dismissive gesture. “Marcel is old and doddering. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Are you sure? Because he might be old, but his mind seems fairly sharp to me.”
He grew incensed, his shoulders tensing. “Why do you care so much? Your parents allowed you to be sent here. You should have no loyalty left for them. If my father was their enemy, then you should be on his side now.”
“That’s not exactly how it works. They’re still my parents,” I argued.
“How can you defend them after how they’ve abandoned you?” There was a tendril of suspicion in his gaze.
“How can you defend Theodore?” I countered, and he lost some of his steam.
“Because he’s my father. Because he—”
“You see. It’s not so easy to hate our parents, even when the people who knew them tell us they’d lost their mind,” I said pointedly.
Vasilios’s eyes narrowed to slits, and I sensed his fury, but he needed to hear it. It was the only way he might ever accept that his father wasn’t someone who deserved to be held in high regard.
We’d almost reached my cell. Vasilios didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then finally, he uttered a gruff “Goodnight, Darya” before turning and walking away.
I walked the last few steps, entered my cell, and closed the bars. I washed my hands and face, suddenly feeling bad for being so argumentative with Vasilios about his father. It was obviously a touchy subject. After all, he was the reason I had running water, and I was thankful for that. When I lay down on the bed, it was still as uncomfortable as ever, but I was so exhausted that I immediately fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.