In the Open Cage

Chapter 24

Misa sat on her bed, mulling over the riddle. She had the small strip of paper between her fingers, staring at it, hoping the words that formed would give her an answer instead of a cryptic message. She turned it upside down, but the same words had merely flipped themselves to be upright once again. The back of the strip had nothing.

"Argh!" Misa threw the strip to the ground. She had read it so many times the words were beginning to lose meaning.

A soft knock at her door interrupted the cogs in her brain, and Misa meandered to it, savouring the few moments of not wanting to crack her head open. She checked her nightcap, making sure her hair was hidden beneath it, then unlocked the door.

Captain Bentham stood before her. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I see you've taken my advice."

Misa shrugged, not wanting to deal with his lecture. "I'd rather not have anyone stumble inside while I change."

She averted her gaze. The sight of the captain brought her back to the riddle—the cursed riddle that plagued her mind all day. Even sketching didn't alleviate the weight of it from her shoulders.

"May I come in?"

Misa jolted back into reality. "Oh, of course. Sorry."

She mentally kicked herself. Why was she apologising? Taking a step back, she didn't bother holding the door open for the captain. Instead, she made her way back to her bed, leaving it to him to shut the door. He locked it behind him.

Sinking onto the bed, Misa let out a long sigh. She stooped over to grab the piece of paper. "I can't sleep. All I've been thinking about is this stupid riddle."

The captain pulled a chair from the desk sitting beside the bed and took a seat. "That's why I've come here." He plopped his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek on his knuckles. "I think discussing it may help us think of something we haven't thought of so far."

"Maybe..." Misa rubbed her eyes. "Let's see. 'What marks every hour—' ah, we know that's a bell. So, 'see this one cry, up its teardrops rise, find the door in the sky.' It's upside down. Does that mean that its tears fall downwards then?"

"Perhaps..." Captain Bentham stared at the open sketchbook sprawled on the desk. "But that's only one part of the riddle. A bell upside down is still a bell."

Misa's shoulders drooped. "It's something I've pondered over. I don't understand. Bernt said the bell weeps real tears. I'm not sure if he means that the bell is somehow alive."

"Some fresh air may help. Shall we take a walk?"

Misa doubted it, but a walk did sound wonderful especially during the night when there wouldn't be so many people milling about. There was just something entrancing about nightly walks. The emptiness, the darkness, the ethereal silver glow from the moon, where impossible dreams did not seem so out of reach.

"That would be quite nice," Misa said. "Let me just grab my cloak."

She found her cloak hanging on a hook. Swinging it over her shoulders, she clasped the button and walked over to her desk. The captain had already gone to the door. She lifted her sketchbook and stuck the riddle inside. It wasn't likely that she'd have time to draw, but she decided to grab her stick of charcoal with it, anyway.

The captain didn't say anything about it. He unlocked the door and led the way through the house, following the carpeted path to the grand entrance, and out into the cold, beautiful garden. He snagged a lamp hanging on the walls fencing the property. The guard watching the gates said nothing when they left.

When the soft glow from the commander's manor were pinpricks in the distance, the captain spoke, "You understand why it's crucial to infiltrate the witches' society?"