The Elementalist: Sky City (Book One)

Chapter Thirteen: The Dungeon

"Great... this is just great," Wade mumbled loudly. "Just great..."

Drip, drip, drip.

Every five seconds, without ever missing a beat, water dripped from the concrete ceiling above their heads. And with each drip, Fred could be seen flinching, her anger beginning to really boil to the surface.

If the water wasn't bad enough to drive them all mad, then the dusty, rat-infested confines of the dungeon could easily find something else. The light was dim, lit only by far away candles down the hallway, and their cell was barely large enough for the three of them. They'd probably have gotten separate cells, if not for the complete overcrowded nature of these dungeons. Ben, Wade, and Fred could look down the sets of metal bars, and see people in every single cell, all the way to the end of the underground hallway. And that wasn't including the cells above ground as well.

The only thing, the absolute only thing, that Fred was thankful for was that they hadn't been chained in any way. The others didn't know the feeling, but Fred knew all-too-well the feeling of being cuffed, and would prefer never to experience it again.

After exploring their cell, they quickly realized that the concrete that made the ceiling, floor, and one of the walls of their cell was so thick, and the bars sturdy enough, that someone with Ground powers, like Ben, couldn't walk through.

The damp and dark reminded Ben of the alleyways and streets of Capital City, and he didn't like it at all. There was a helplessness to it, and for the first time since getting them, Ben felt his powers to be nonexistent in their usefulness.

"Are you sure you can't walk through it?" Wade asked yet again, short of breath as his claustrophobia began to take over.

"Positive," Ben muttered, holding firmly to the metal bars, and letting himself slide down them in defeat and fall to the hard floor. "It's too thick. I just can't phase through. Loose dirt maybe... but that's not loose dirt by a mile."

There was silence, followed by a few drips. It had been roughly an hour since the three awoke in the prison, but how long they'd been lying there unconscious was unknown. There were no windows, and no telling if it was night or day, and for all they knew, days could have passed. The hunger in their stomach certainly agreed with that theory.

Shuffling on the floor, her back uncomfortable against the concrete wall, Fred held her arms tightly to her chest and shivered violently. The soldiers had removed their jackets, and now all they had left were the clothes underneath—the ones they had in the Magma Kingdom. It was soon made apparent that her red, hide-skin jacket was nowhere near enough to keep a Magma Kingdom citizen like herself warm in these conditions. She'd never been anywhere near this cold in her life before, and it felt to her very much like dying in a way.

"Are you..." Wade began to ask.

"I'm f-fine!" she snapped.

Twisting her head, she looked at him. He sat elbow to elbow beside her, and she could tell the cold wasn't really affecting him all that much–it appeared to affect Ben in no way whatsoever.

She'd never admit it, but even the small contact she has with Wade as he sat next to her was nice, as his body was strangely warm compared to hers. A cloud of visible air escaped her lips as she sighed and looked up from the ground at Wade.

"I-I'm sorry," she shivered. "I didn't m-mean to snap."

"You're freezing," he said, shuffling to move closer to her.

"What are you doing?' she asked incredulously.

"You're too cold," Ben chimed in from across the cell. "I can see your lips turning blue. You need heat of some kind."