“My strongest prison,” the duke said, standing aside as one of the guards unlocked the fist-sized padlock. “Also, my only prison. As most situations can be solved via the strategic use of force, I normally find them a waste of time. This one, however, I had made especially for you, Mr. Monpress, just in case you lived up to your reputation.”
As he talked, the guard got the door open and carried Eli through and into a low, wide room. The only light came from the duke’s own torch, but it was enough to make Eli wish he couldn’t see. The dark stone walls were covered in strange metal objects, most of them sharp. There was a rack of hand and foot manacles in various sizes, as well as racks of other things he vaguely recognized from some of the more horrible dungeons he’d broken out of, but he had never worked up the courage to study the implements closely. There was also a large, locked grate in the middle of the floor, almost like a drain, and Eli shuddered to think what that was for.
But the guards walked past all that, dragging Eli to another iron door at the back of the room. This door the duke unlocked himself, standing in front so Eli could not see what he was doing and whispering something Eli couldn’t make out. The door opened soundlessly to reveal a cell the size of a large closet stacked with bales of dark-colored hay.
Eli wanted to quip something about how nice it was of the duke to consider his comfort, but all he managed was a gurgling sound as the guards tossed him in. He landed on the hay with a grunt, the door clanging shut behind him.
“One hour.” Eli could hear the duke’s smile through the iron. “Then we’ll begin again. Think on your answer.”
Their footsteps faded away and the prison’s outer door slammed shut, leaving Eli lying in the straw in utter black silence.
When he heard the outer door close, Eli sat up stiffly. His fingers went to his belt pocket and pulled out a small ring of heavy keys that had, moments ago, been in the guard’s pocket. He felt them in the dark, and a small grin spread over his face. They’d have to beat him worse than that to slow his pickpocketing.
With a low groan, Eli pulled himself over to the door and set about looking for the keyhole. The duke had said one hour, but Eli wasn’t about to wait that long. In one hour he intended to be with Josef and Nico as they plowed a hole out of the city. However, those happy thoughts were quickly put out of his head as his finger ran along the door’s pitted metal surface from floor to ceiling, and found nothing. No lock, no hinges, just metal that jutted almost seamlessly into stone.
Eli bit his lip. He had to be missing something. What he needed was a light. So he closed his eyes and reached down, prodding the lava spirit that slept in the burn on his chest.
“Karon,” he whispered. Then again, a little louder. “Karon.”
His chest warmed as the lava spirit stirred sleepily.
“Could I bother you for a light?”
The spirit mumbled sleepily, and a warm, orange light began to shine from under Eli’s shirt. Now that he could see, he noticed the door did have an opening, a small slit right at eye level, probably for guards to check on prisoners without opening the door. Otherwise, the light only confirmed what his fingers had found earlier. No lock, no handle, no hinges, nothing.
“Come on,” Eli muttered, running his hands along the door’s edge, tapping it with his fingers. As he tapped, he felt the door move away. It was a tiny, stubborn motion, but Eli jumped when he felt it, and everything fell into place. Of course, he realized, rolling his eyes. The hunk of iron was awakened, and probably terrified loyal like everything else in this pit of a country.
With a frustrated groan, Eli sat back and contemplated his next move. Something dramatic would be a nice change. Maybe he could get Karon to blow the door down in a shower of fire. He was turning this idea over when his nose caught the hint of something odd, a grassy, chemical smell, almost like lamp smoke. At once, the warm light from his chest went out.
“Powers, Eli.” Karon’s deep voice made his ears ring. “What are you doing, calling me like this? I could have killed us both.”
Eli scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re covered in oil,” Karon said. “I nearly set you alight.”
Eli reached down in alarm, patting his shirt with quick hands. Sure enough, his clothes were slick with something that smelled faintly of grain. He grimaced. Lamp oil, cheap smoky stuff too, but when… He reached down to the hay bales and gave an enormous sigh. He remembered thinking they looked dark when the guards threw him in. Now that he had his hands in them, and was thinking of something other than getting out, it was clear they were drenched in oil. No fire spirits.