ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 58. Game of Survival

The first thing Emily heard was someone's whining.

She opened her eyes and glanced at a narrow, high cage. Something small, similar to a human figure in torn rag curled up inside. After a moment, she realized that it was a house-elf in clothes. The elf received freedom from previous owners, but the pureblood society did not forgive it for this.

In the next cell, the girl was. Emily wrinkled her forehead, remembering where she could see that face, and found a distant resemblance to one Hufflepuff student. The girl was hard to recognize because her eyes had lost all expression of intelligence. Fear devoured her brain, and even if she survived that night, healing her would no longer be possible.

Identical grey cages stretched far forward, humans and non-humans of all ages and colors in each of them. Many were shaking with horror, someone was crying, someone was whimpering, someone was trying to howl, but the watchful jailers stopped it with one short flash of the spell.

Lucius called one jailer, said something short and quiet to him, handed him a magic wand and apparated away. A stern man with heavy brows, square face and bristles, grabbed Emily by the arm, dragging her almost through the entire lighted part of the camp, then pushed her into one of the free cages. It smelled of urine and showed traces of blood; someone pissed off the jailer.

Emily took a deep breath; she would be quiet like a mouse.

"You look good," the man grumbled, shutting the cage and sealing the door with a spell. "Be quiet and save your pretty face. The Hunt is about to start."

The jailer left, and Emily looked around. She needed to assess the situation. She turned her head to the left, to a nearby cage, and stared into the centaur's fierce eyes. The poor fellow had to curl unthinkably to fit into his container.

On the right, a little fairy was fluttering with burnt wings. She looked frail and defenseless, but in her small, sparkling eyes there was rage, and the jailers looked in her direction with caution.

Nearby, Emily noticed the wizards, who with obvious interest stared at her through the steel bars, and turned away. Not everyone survived the imprisonment, and these looked as if they would eat themselves from boredom.

The jailer was right. Emily didn't have time to see the other guests of this strange place as magic lamps lit up everywhere like spotlights. Prisoners began to move; someone screamed in surprise; someone began to beat on the bars of his cage. It took minutes to calm down violent ones, and only when there was absolute silence around, filled with a quiet murmur and intermittent breathing, a sharp voice spread over the forest. The voice of Anthony Mulciber.

Emily jerked back, hit the crate and pressed herself into the bars, clasping herself with her hands. She thought she could overcome this fear, but it turned out to be damn strong. Even stronger than before. The centaur next to her laughed, watching her. Emily came to her senses only after a while, having missed a meaningless introduction. Thank Merlin for that.

"... our holiday begins! We will return wands to you; we will release you. You can go anywhere you want! Stay here or go home. Arrange a picnic or go to bed under the most liked tree. It's simple. We will let you go if you can escape. Go for it, my darlings!"

Just as Lucius said: they promised freedom to everyone who can escape with a whole skin.

A sweet wave of anticipation overwhelmed Emily, and it took considerable effort to suppress it and force herself to deny this opportunity. Lucius said it was a trap, and he was interested in saving her life. There were many controversial points in his explanation, but it was not the time or the place to indulge in thinking about the deceit of the Malfoy family. She must survive.