The Rise Of The Morningstar (Eng. Version)

Part 3 - The Fight of Angels and Demons // Chapter 62 - Loud Minorities

Part 3 "The Fight of Angels and Demons"

Chapter 62 – Loud Minorities

Jace and I jumped, and our foreheads collided. Within a second, Jace had his right hand outstretched toward the witch-light. The cell gleamed in the whitish glow of the light, causing both of us to blink in response.

The screaming had stopped, but the tension didn't leave our muscles. Almost at the same time, we leaned toward the window and from Jace's narrowed brows I could tell he was hearing something.

"What's going on there? What do you hear?" I whispered as quietly as possible. Now that I could finally see him, the first thing I noticed was his disheveled hair. Then his pupils darted from the window to me, and I wasn't sure if they were dilated from fright or passion.

We looked at each other for a brief moment, apparently realizing what had just happened between us. But Jace didn't look angry or resentful. His serious features softened, and he fished his stele from the ground. I didn't stop him as he pulled back my jacket to expose my forearm.

"Audibility rune," he explained in a barely audible murmur. He finished, leaning back and shifting his attention back to the window.

The voices that had just remained hidden from me now stood out clearly from the silence. Still quiet like a distant whisper, but still understandable if you tried hard. They had to be several cells away from us. Whoever they were.

"No, you damn idiots!" someone hissed, exhausted, frightened and angry at the same time. "Do I look like a girl to you?!"

"It's not like we can get close enough to the bars to check," someone replied, distant and annoyed. A dark, rough voice. "They're secured from the outside, too. Never mind."

Silence followed. And footsteps padding through the grass. The following call seemed closer. As if the person speaking had stalked to the next cell window. "Hey, you, wake up!" the same voice from before called, more unfriendly now. A man, probably middle-aged.

Jace and I held our breath as we waited for the answer. But there wasn't any. Whoever was in the cell was probably sleeping too soundly, or simply wasn't interested in responding. A rumble pierced the night and then another scream.

"What the hell?" A boy. Maybe not even of legal age. I assumed it was one of Blake's friends. Here in the darkness, away from his strengthening group, he sounded frightened. And slumberous.

"No girl either, I suppose," was all the man replied and continued on without saying another word.

Two cells and many frightened shouts later, the gravel near our window finally crunched. Jace and I exchanged a look. A moment later he had pushed me off his lap. He turned on his side, me with him. Pressing my back against the cold wall, he pulled up the blanket and threw it over my head. The witch-light went out and his arms closed around my body; protective and calculating.

Even under the covers, I could hear the man's feet coming to a stop, could hear his heavy breathing as he bent down to the level of the bars. Jace reacted before he could throw his stone into the cell.

"I'm awake," he stated with mock indignation. "So don't bother. Given how loud you are, I wouldn't be surprised if half the Gard has already gotten wind of you." Jace was good at this: That perfect blend of arrogance, sarcasm, and conceit that drove you insane with each successive sentence of lecturing.

"You would know," the man growled back. I expected him to move on, just like the other cells. He decided to stay. "Are you one of Ashdown's guys too?"

"Ashdown?" Jace laughed in amusement, making the man fidget instead of giving him what he wanted. "The boy who was beaten in a duel by Clarissa Morgenstern yesterday?"