Page 50 of A Fable of Riddles and Redemption

Caliban wouldn’t penetrate through her walls, and neither would an overly handsome and protective guard named Herrick.

Despite how he somehow seemed to truly see her, to genuinely care for her more than her own mother had. And then there were the moments where it almost seemed like Herrick had wanted to kiss her—and she’d felt that same strange desire.

No! Absolutely not! She tried to deny the emotions that kept overcoming her in Herrick’s presence and instead focus on her current reality.

In any case, the masked man’s motives were questionable, at best. And he somehow knew she had magic. How had he discovered she had it in the first place?

More importantly, who was he? And why did he affect her the way he did?

The way he used magic was beautiful. Inspiring. But there was that hint of darkness to it, the flicker of black amidst the light gray—that dark magic she wanted to run far away from. Magic she needed to flee at all costs.

She had no idea how long she lay still, trying to gather up the energy to move again while Caliban’s song washed over her. This time, it seemed as if it were simply music, not a tune that carried magic—dark or otherwise—along with it.

And yet, something about it called to her, luring her to draw closer.

Eventually, Zorina stretched and rolled to the edge of the bed before dragging herself up to stand. Her legs shook a bit underneath her, but she tried to ignore it. She took each movement slowly, testing out what little strength she had. Over time, she regained a bit more energy, as if her body were recovering from a physical ordeal.

If her theory was correct, Caliban had drained some of her magic—and therefore, some of her physical strength for a time. Thankfully, both would replenish, if given enough time for her to fully recover.

Would Caliban give her that luxury?

She wasn’t about to stick around and find out. Escape was her primary goal.

But first, she had to move.

Zorina stretched again, hoping to regain further mobility as she did. As she moved around, she studied the room. The bed took up most of the space, but a small table with a chair stood in the corner opposite the door, which was slightly ajar. Without even realizing it, she sighed in relief that the door was not locked.

I can leave, then. At least, I can leave this room.

How far she could go beyond that had yet to be seen.

When she felt ready, she crept out of the room and into a long, narrow hallway. The sound of music grew a bit louder, but it was still a ways away. Two decadent mirrors hung on the wall on one side, while two doors stood on the opposite wall. Straight ahead was an arched doorway that led to what appeared to be a larger living space.

As Zorina moved down the hall, she tested the door closest to the room she woke up in. Inside was a bathing tub, a chamber pot, and a washbasin with a pitcher.

After peeking in, she made her way to the next door—and quickly closed it again when she saw that it was a larger bedroom with black and red furnishings and fabrics. Caliban’s room. She shuddered and moved on.

All that was left was the room at the end of the hall, where the lilting tones of Caliban’s flute music drifted from.

Steeling herself for the inevitable, Zorina tiptoed closer and peered into the opulent room with a domed ceiling and a grand crystal chandelier dangling from its center. On the opposite corner from where she stood was a single door. She was so tempted to run across the room to reach it.

Unfortunately, to get to it, she would have to go past Caliban as he played. He sat on a long settee straight across from her, his eyes closed as if enjoying his own song. Though he seemed to be lost in the music, Zorina feared he would catch her if she attempted an escape.

Do I dare?

How can I not at least try?

Her thoughts vacillated as she listened to him play.

After watching him for several minutes, she finally dredged up the courage to make the attempt. She stepped into the richly carpeted room, walking slowly and carefully, trying not to make a sound. Caliban appeared to be completely absorbed in his playing, and she could not blame him. The song was beautiful and alluring. It called to her, planting a yearning to know its master in her heart.

Zorina glanced around the room, which also sported an elaborate dining table and a small kitchen area along the wall opposite the door, though her gaze kept darting to Caliban to ensure he didn’t catch her.

But as she reached the middle of the room, her footsteps paused and changed direction—toward Caliban.

Oddly enough, her thoughts seemed to shift, too. Fear vanished, replaced by other emotions.

Fascination. Who was the man beneath the mask?