The silence was worse than the screams.

It had been hours since the last agonized cry echoed down from the upper levels. Now, the dungeon was quiet.

It was a heavy, suffocating silence. It pressed against Marcus's eardrums and made his own heartbeat sound like a drum.

Marcus sat with his back against the cold stone wall. He pulled his knees to his chest.

His mind was a mess.

He tried to use his coaching techniques. He tried to reframe the situation.

'Visualization,' he thought. 'Visualize a way to escape.'

But all he could visualize was Elowen's smile. He saw her sharp fingernails. He saw the gleam in her eyes when she talked about breaking things.

He was going to be tortured.

Pain was not something Marcus handled well.

He was a modern man. He was used to air conditioning and the smell of air freshner.

He was a life coach. He fixed problems with words and empathy.

But here, words were useless.

Elowen didn't want to talk. She wanted to play games with his nervous system.

And his body? It was useless.

This noble body was weak. It had no calluses. It had no muscle memory for fighting.

He had no magic. He had no sword.

He was just waiting for a madwoman to come back and dismantle him.

"I'm going to die here," Marcus whispered.

The words tasted like ash.

He didn't even get a reply from Seraphina yet.

He looked at his hands. They were trembling.

He closed his eyes. He let the despair wash over him. It felt like sinking into deep, cold water.

There was no point in fighting. There was no way out.

Maybe if he just gave up, it would hurt less.

Maybe if he broke early, Elowen would get bored.

A soft sigh cut through the silence.

It wasn't a sad sigh. It was the sound of someone who was mildly annoyed.

Marcus opened his eyes.

The little girl was standing up.

She looked at Marcus. Her black eyes were flat, and held no pity.

She looked at him like he was a broken tool.

Useless. Disappointing.

She turned away from him. She walked up to the iron bars of the cell.

She stood there for a moment. She waited.

Then, she opened her mouth.

"Hey," she said.

Her voice was soft. It was clear and melodic. It sounded like a silver bell ringing in a graveyard.

Marcus stared at her. His jaw dropped.

She could talk?

The guard sitting at the end of the short corridor jumped.

He squinted into the dim light. He looked at their cell.

"Who said that?" the guard grunted. He stood up lazily.

"I did," the girl said. "Come here."

The guard blinked. He walked closer, his boots scuffing on the stone floor.

He stopped a few feet away from the bars. He looked at the girl with genuine confusion.

"Well, I'll be damned," the guard chuckled. "I thought you were a mute."

"Me too," Marcus whispered. He was still staring at the girl's back.

She had been silent for days.

She hadn't made a sound in the wagon.

She hadn't made a sound in the holding cell.

Why speak now?

"Come closer," the girl ordered. Her voice was flat. It was an order, not a request.

The guard frowned. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Watch your tone, little brat," the guard sneered. "You are property now. You don't give orders."

"I have a secret," the girl said. "For the Lady."

The guard hesitated. He looked suspicious.

"What secret?" he asked.

"Come closer," she repeated. "I will whisper it."

The guard looked at her. She was tiny. She was unarmed. She was wearing a dress.

She looked about as dangerous as a kitten.

He probably thought she was trying to curry favor.

Or maybe she was scared and wanted to beg.

"Fine," the guard grunted. "Make it quick. And no tricks."

He stepped up to the bars. He knelt down on one knee to be at her eye level.

He pressed his ear against the gap in the bars.

"What is it?" the guard asked.

The girl reached out.

Her movement was fast. It was fluid.

She didn't grab him. She didn't scratch him.

She simply extended two fingers. She tapped him gently on the center of his forehead.

[Sleep]

The guard's eyes rolled back in his head.

He didn't gasp. He didn't struggle.

He just collapsed.

He hit the stone floor with a heavy thud. He lay there, motionless. His chest rose and fell in a deep, rhythmic rhythm.

Marcus sat frozen against the wall. His brain had stopped working.

He stared at the guard. He stared at the girl.

"Did..." Marcus stammered. "Did you just kill him?"

The girl turned around. She looked at Marcus.

"He is asleep," she said. "He will wake up in an hour. Unless you are loud."

Marcus blinked. He pinched his arm to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Magic," Marcus breathed. "You used magic."

"Obviously," the girl said.

She pointed to the guard's belt. A ring of heavy iron keys hung there.

"Get the keys," she said.

Marcus looked at the keys. They were just out of reach for her small arms. But Marcus could reach them.

He scrambled to his feet. His legs felt wobbly.

He rushed to the bars. He looked down at the sleeping guard.

The man was out cold. Drool was pooling on the stone already

Marcus reached through the bars. His hand shook.

He unhooked the key ring and pulled it into the cell.

He looked at the girl. She was watching him expectantly.

"You can talk," Marcus said. It was a stupid thing to say. But he was in shock.

"I can," she replied.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Marcus asked. "In the wagon? With the bandits?"

The girl tilted her head.

"There was nothing to say," she said simply. "We were trapped. Now we have an opening."

"So you just... waited?" Marcus asked. "You let yourself get sold?"

"I was observing," she said. "And now I am bored. Open the door."

Marcus stared at her.

She was terrifying. She was a child, but she spoke like a tired bureaucrat.

Who or what is she?

Why is she here?

Marcus had hundreds of questions but he swallowed his curiosity.

He fumbled with the keys.

He tried the first one. It didn't fit.

He tried the second one. It slid into the lock.

He turned it. The mechanism clicked loudly.

The door creaked open.

They were free.

Marcus stepped out into the corridor. He took a deep breath. The air here was still stale, but it tasted like freedom.

He looked at the stairs at the end of the hall.

They led upward. Towards Elowen. Towards the guards.

"Wait," Marcus said. He turned to the girl.

She walked out of the cell. She didn't look hurried. She looked like she was going for a stroll.

"Do you have more magic?" Marcus asked. He felt a surge of hope.

"Can you make us invisible?" Marcus asked. He gestured with his hands. "Like... poof? Gone?"

The girl stopped. She gave him a flat look.

Marcus scratched his cheek. He felt embarrassed. He was relying on a child for escaping.

The girl sighed. She raised her hand.

[Concealment]

A ripple passed through the air.

Marcus looked down at his body.

He gasped.

His hands were fading. They weren't gone, but they were... indistinct.

It was like looking at himself through a heat haze. Or through dirty glass. He was transparent

He looked at the girl. She was the same, transparent.

He had seen magic in this world. He had seen Theo practice. He had seen Seraphina cast fire.

But he had never felt it on his own skin. It was tingly. It was electric.

"It is not invisibility," the girl said.

Her voice sounded slightly distant, muffled by the spell.

"It removes your presence," she explained. "Eyes will slide off you. Minds will ignore you. You are part of the background."

Marcus nodded eagerly. "Got it. Background. Like an extra in a movie."

The girl stared at him. She clearly didn't get the reference.

"There are rules," she said seriously. "Listen."

Marcus straightened up.

"Do not touch anything," she ordered. "If you touch an object that is not under the spell, the effect breaks."

"Okay," Marcus said. "Hands to myself."

"Do not touch people," she added. "And do not get too close. If you enter their personal space, their instincts will notice you."

"And do not make noise," she finished. "The spell hides sight and presence. It does not hide sound completely. If you make too much noise, you die."

Marcus nodded. He mimed zipping his lips shut.

"Let's go," the girl whispered.

She started walking toward the spiral staircase.

She moved silently. Her feet made no sound on the stone. She was like a ghost.

Marcus followed her.

They reached the staircase and began to climb.

They reached the top of the first flight and emerged onto the second level.

Marcus held his breath.

This level had more cells. And it had guards.

There were two of them.

They were playing cards. A bottle of wine sat between them.

"I raise you three coppers," one guard grunted.

"You're bluffing," the other replied.

Marcus and the girl stood in the shadows of the stairwell.

They were ten feet away.

Marcus's heart hammered against his ribs. He felt exposed. He felt naked.

But the guards didn't look up. Their eyes stayed on the cards.

It was working. Their eyes just... slid past the stairwell.

The girl moved forward.

Marcus followed. He placed his feet carefully.

"I fold," the second guard sighed. He threw his cards down.

The sound was loud in the quiet corridor.

Marcus flinched and almost stumbled.

He caught his balance just in time. He froze.

The guard looked toward the stairs. He squinted.

"Did you hear something?" the guard asked.

Marcus stopped breathing.

The other guard laughed. "Just the wind, mate. Or the rats. Your turn to deal."

The first guard shrugged. He went back to the game.

Marcus exhaled slowly.

They began to climb again.

They were heading to the first level. The surface level.

They were halfway up the spiral when the sound hit them.

"AAAAGH!"

It was a scream.

It was just like the ones before. It was high-pitched and full of absolute terror.

It echoed down the stone shaft. It bounced off the walls.

It was close.

It came from the room directly at the top of the stairs.

Marcus froze. His foot hovered over the next step.

Marcus felt the blood drain from his face.

The girl stopped ahead of him. She looked back.

Her eyes were dark holes in her blurry face.

She put a finger to her lips.

Then...

"AAAAAAAGGGHH!"

Another scream tore through the air, louder than before.

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