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A sinister grin contorted the king's face, revealing a row of gnarled and rotting teeth that glistened in the dim light. The stench emanating from his mouth was putrid, causing Jackson's stomach to churn and nearly forcing him to regurgitate his last meal. He could almost taste the foul odor in the back of his throat, like a mix of decaying flesh and spoiled food. The sight and smell of the king were enough to make any brave man quiver in fear.
"Take the human to the dungeon. My son, as well. Collar him so he cannot change his size."
For all of Jackson's strength and fortitude, he found his feet rooted to the ground as a giant hand rushed toward him, slamming him into the stone floor.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Barrett's breathing was slow and steady, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the dungeon's usual moans and clanking chains. He sat, back pressed against the cold stone wall, his eyes fixated on the heavy iron door that had slammed shut behind them not an hour ago.
Had there been bars along the door, not just the walls, he could have shrunk himself and scurried out, growing taller and then unlocking the doors. But the giant’s dungeon did not afford such a chance.
Mud and dirt coated the floor, making it hard to navigate without slipping. The sound of giant footsteps echoed from above as if they were deafening thunderclaps.
The only light came from torches that flickered in the walls, casting sinister shadows on the stone floor and walls. It was as though they were trapped in a world of black and orange, like molten lava reflecting off the rough surface they now sat against.
Beside him, Jackson's agitation was palpable.
He paced. Three steps forward and three steps back. The echo of his boots against the stone only added to the monotony. Fortunately for Barrett, the constant pacing only served to show off the muscular forms beneath Jackson's clothing and for that, Barrett was not so sorry for.
His mind raced as he watched Jackson pace, unable to shake off the feeling of failure. He should have seen this coming. He had lived his whole life surrounded by treachery, after all. As he looked up, he could see the dim light seeping through a small window high above, casting eerie shadows on the walls around them.
"I should've known," Barrett muttered. "I should've foreseen the giant’s trickery."
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, wishing he could pull out some magic to help them escape this predicament.
"Don't beat yourself up, Barrett," Jackson said, the weight in his own voice carrying the heavy blend of sympathy and frustration. "We both walked in there with eyes wide open. We knew the risk." He dropped onto the ground. "I'm the idiot who rambled. Though I would love to know this father business.”
A dry chuckle, more of a scoff, escaped Barrett's lips. "Yes, but I assured you I could handle him. It seems I'm not as cunning as I once thought." He smiled at Jackson. "Besides, if I was into the whole hero thing I would've thought your speech was kind of adorable."
"Wonderful. Adorable. Just what I wanted to go for."
“As for the father part, he is no blood of mine. I believe he stole me for the magic I possess, believing me to somehow be part of his world
One thing was certain - they needed a plan, and they needed it fast.
Barrett's mind churned as he considered all the ways they might escape this cell. His fingers traced patterns in the air, mimicking spells he wished he could cast.
As the wind howled outside, a sudden gust shook the tower and knocked Barrett off balance. He stumbled into Jackson, who caught him with strong arms before he could fall.
For a moment, they stood there, their bodies pressed together as Barrett tried to regain their footing. The heat radiating from Jackson's skin sent shivers down Barrett's spine.
But there was no time for such distractions. Not until the human took him away from these damn clouds.
"We need to get out of here," Barrett said, breaking the silence between them.
"Agreed," Jackson replied, releasing his grip on Barrett and taking a step back. "But how?"
Barrett's mind raced as he looked around the small cell once again. There had to be a way out that they were missing. His eyes fell on the torches hanging on the walls, and an idea sparked in his mind as he confirmed a shinning blue orb in the corner of the cell.
Footsteps whispered across the ground somewhere near them—but too far out of the light of the torches for Barrett to see who was near them.
"You sound like the man the giant likes to call his son." A female's voice called from the west side of the cell.
Barrett swallowed, knowing that anyone who knew him could hurt him to hurt the giant - but it would never work.
"And if I am?"
