Page 12 of The Bonds of Indigo

I shrug. “A lot of text is written in a language I’d need a translator for. I know just a little, but not much. Why does it concern their name?”

He shakes his head and begins walking around his desk toward me. Shorter than myself, he pats my arm and brushes past me. “This will be interesting.”

There’s no hesitation as I follow the warden out of his office. The officer who brought me up is gone, and the hall is empty—eerily so. The building’s maybe five hundred feet in circumference, and from up here I can see clearly down to the first floor. Only a handful of guards patrol each level.

“No one gets out,” Sook says as he steps beside me, as if reading my thoughts. “If you’re concerned we don’t have enough staff.”

I bite back a retort. I don’t concern myself with much of anything.

“Good to know.”

He leads me back to the stairway, where we go down three flights before circling the lone hall. There are only four cells from what I can see on each level. One on each point of the cardinal directions. He takes me to the one that’s placed south, which I’m not entirely sure matters. Just taking stock of everything.

There is a metal table right outside, along with two chairs of the same material. Two officers, one of them being Jozier, stand on either side of the very, very, heavily barred door.

I pull out my hands from my pockets and cross my arms over my chest. “You weren’t kidding about no one getting out. This is metal made from Hearthrock.”

“Forged right here, or, well in Blackthorn.” Everyone but Mundanes will succumb to blisters and poisoning with even just a touch from this stuff. Too much exposure will leave us Dylox incapacitated. Very smart, I must admit. Now it makes sense why the warden is what he is. “All the doors are made of this besides mine.”

I hadn’t looked at the back of the front door to this place, but if I had to guess, it’s likely made of the same material.

“Smart design. Have you had anyone try and escape?”

“A few,” Jozier states.

“Inmate 0338?”

“No,” the other officer, who I can’t see his name tag, clips. “0338 knows their place.”

Sook moves to the next door, his steps measured and sure. “We have wards placed around the cells by a Witch. One specific Hexborn for inmate 0338, something about a coven or some bullshit. I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Anyway, every cell has a ward around it—soundproof, scent-proof, sealed off from everything else. None of them have windows.”

He glances at me over his shoulder. “If they behave, there’s one place they’re allowed to step out for fresh air.”

That explains the odd little sitting area outside.

“We’re extremely cautious with our inmates,” he continues, resting his hand on the door’s reinforced handle. “This one is no exception.”

My gaze trails to the door. “I’m not here to set them free, so don’t worry. I’ll be in and out.”

“We will be joining you.”

I scoff. “No, that’s alright.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not a request.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Warden. I’m quite capable.”

He places his hand onto the handle and turns it. “I have no doubt.”

The door opens, and I’m expecting… something. Anything. But silence isn’t it.

No gasp, no sigh of relief, no curse under breath. Just stillness so thick it feels alive.

If not for the single, steady heartbeat pulsing somewhere ahead, I’d think the room was empty.

Sook gestures me forward, and I brush past him into the dim space. It’s larger than I expected, but stripped bare. The only piece of furniture is a thin twin mattress pressed against the far wall—and the figure sitting beside it.

“Today is my day off…” The voice is quiet, almost swallowed by the air itself.