The Spirit Rebellion(107)

“Miranda,” Eli whispered frantically. “Are you all right?”

“More or less,” Miranda groaned, pulling herself around the grate. She climbed up the lattice of iron bars and then, with a final heave, onto the stone floor of the prison itself. The moment she hit flat rock, she flopped over, gasping, and didn’t move for at least a minute.

“Well,” Eli said, his voice floating through the dark, “at least it’s never dull, being with me.”

“Shut up,” Miranda gasped, pushing herself upright. Mellinor’s light was dimmer, thanks to the gallons of filthy water he had commandeered, but it was still enough to see by. As she’d expected, she was in a prison, though a strange one. It was all one long room with a wide variety of equipment, from a selection of manacles to things she didn’t recognize and didn’t want to, bolted to the walls. There were not, however, any cells she could see.

“Where are you?”

“Turn left,” Eli said. “Your left. I’m the door at the far back.”

Miranda turned as he said and found herself facing what she’d thought was an iron wall. Looking closer, however, she picked out a small rectangle cut at eye level and, peering out through the gap, a pair of familiar blue eyes glittered in the dim light.

“Hello,” Eli said. “Mind letting me out?”

Miranda stumbled over to the door. It didn’t seem to have a lock or hinges or a handle or anything normally associated with doors.

“I see why you had to give me the keys,” she said, running her finger along the smooth door crack. “I suppose the door isn’t in a talking mood?”

“No more than anything else in this country,” Eli said with a sigh.

“We’ll need to knock it down, then,” Miranda said. “Wait here.”

“Like I could wait anywhere else.”

Miranda ignored him, walking back over to the pit where Mellinor was still swirling. She knelt by the edge and peered into the water, which was already looking clearer.

“Losing the sediment?”

“As much as I can,” the water rumbled. “This stuff feels awful. It’s all slick and heavy, and whatever personality it had before is long gone thanks to the processing. I see why they use it to kill rats.”

Miranda grimaced. “Glad I didn’t fall in it. Think you’ve got enough water to knock down a door?”

“That depends on the door,” Mellinor said, swelling up in a wave and looking where she gestured. It studied the door for a moment and then vanished back into the pit.

“Tell the thief to get ready,” he called, his watery voice echoing up from the bottom of the cell.

“I’ve been ready,” Eli called back. His voice was farther away now, and Miranda guessed he was pressing himself against the back of his cell. “Just do it.”

Mellinor gushed and thundered, but right before he erupted in a geyser, Eli cried “Wait!”

The water stopped and Miranda groaned in frustration. “What?”

“It occurs to me,” Eli said, “that the duke was probably prepared for me, a trapped and notorious wizard thief, to do something desperate, like Enslave the door holding me in. Before you knock it down, you might check for traps.”

“Traps?” Miranda said. “What kind of traps could he have against Enslavement?”

“Humor me?” Eli said sweetly.

Miranda shook her head and walked back over to the door. She didn’t see anything, just the iron wall of a door set into the stone. Still, she ran her fingers along all the seams anyway, just to be sure. She was about to tell the thief he was being paranoid when she felt something unusual at the very top of the door. A thin bump, almost like a wire, ran up from the top of the door to the stone ceiling. Standing on tiptoe, she followed it with her fingers until she hit a loose brick in a wall that didn’t have any bricks. Frowning, she reached up gently with both hands and gave the brick a tug. It came away easily, revealing a large metal tin attached to the wire she’d followed. She lifted the tin down gently. It was heavy in her hands and sloshing with a liquid she could already guess wasn’t water. Sure enough, it was full to the brim with a black, inky substance Miranda recognized from when Mellinor’s water first touched the powder in her cell. It was the poison, and from the look of it, very concentrated. If Eli had Enslaved the door or opened it or busted it down in any way, this stuff would have drenched him, paralyzing him completely. A good thief catch, she had to admit, much better than burning oil or anything that could kill or disfigure. The best bounty depended on him being alive and recognizable.