Page 79 of Shifter King

The cell itself held little in the way of furnishings. A small chamber pot. A stone slab fastened into the wall with one coarse blanket that smelled of mold, blood, and damp piled up on it—

No.

There was someone under it.

A very small person with a sad but resolved presence.

"Hello," she said softly.

The blanket stirred, and a small hand appeared, then pushed it away. A boy sat up, blinking groggily. "Oh. I'm sorry you're here."

He spoke in a matter-of-fact way. As if he had known she would come.

She stepped closer. Those weren't shadows or dirt on his face. They were flared branch-like marks. The distended fifth finger further confirmed it. "You're a Machat."

He nodded. "The last one here not in the pit." His voice thickened as waves of grief rolled off him.

She braced herself, shivering a little against the force of those emotions. He was alone. All the rest had killed, taken away, or sold. And these people had done this to him. For all his life. It was almost too much knowledge to include with the sight. "What's your name?"

"Brucao. You're Amelia."

She managed to smile a little. "How old are you?"

"Eleven." He rubbed his eye as he continued to stare at her. "I'm a prophet already even though I try not to tell them what they want or anything that will help them. But it's hard sometimes."

She covered her mouth. The images flashed too fast for her to see, but she felt them. They stung like wasps and ached with grief. "I’m sorry."

"I’m not a child," he said. "Maybe I grew a little faster, but Machat like me, well, in a couple years I could be doing anything. If I ever saw anywhere outside this chasm. I’m basically grown."

Basically wasn’t the same as actually. And it certainly wasn't right.

He scooted over to make room for her on the slab. "You can sit here."

"Thank you. I'm just going to rest here a bit." She glanced around the cell. It was no more than twelve paces from front to back and side to side. The walls had been carved out of the earth itself. With the chamber pot as a tool, she might be able to dig out. Except she'd need to hide what she was doing. Some of it felt as hard as stone, other sections were softer.

They had to know that prisoners would try that though. These people were cunning. She focused on the wall opposite the door. Grim worms had gotten into the bunker. They had broken through sheer metal. Now, given that they needed her to provide them with healthy Bealorn Neyeb babies, they probably wouldn't have put her in a place where this was likely. But what if they assumed she would know the risk and thus would not escape. They didn't understand that she was from another world entirely.

It might actually be safer to dig out around the door and make her escape there.

What would keep her from doing that? Why would they assume she wouldn't do that? "Do any sort of animals get in here?"

"No. Not in here. Down in the pit, sometimes." He rested his head against the stone, his expression drawn. "There are things I'm supposed to tell you now that you're here. I've done good and remembered them all."

"Oh?" She adjusted the bindings over her elmis. Prophecies in a place like this? Elonumato was still present and yet this was allowed. That knowledge wedged uncomfortably within her. Why couldn't someone just stop this from existing?

"We've known you were coming for a long time. My mother and sister. They—well—" He swallowed hard. "You shouldn't drink the psychic wine until you have to."

"Psychic wine?"

"They’ll make you drink it eventually," he said. "That’s just how it works. She wants to humiliate you. It’s what she did—" His lips pressed into a tight line as his face paled. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he shook his head. "Just put it off as long as you can. It can last for hours and hours, sometimes days. And you’re a Neyeb."

"What does that mean?"

"You’ll be sensitive to it. Especially so. Easy to get caught in your mind and not find a way out."

"What happens then?"

He shrugged. "Coma. Death. Insanity. I don’t know. But it’s bad. I’ve seen people go in and not come out. But usually after awhile. I don’t think you have that much time."