The Writer's Escape

9. The Prison

Serena awoke in a small, dark cell, with cold air slicing through her desert clothes. Her throat burned and all her muscles were sore, a tight ache in her neck from lying on the ground in a strange position. 

A scrap of paper was on the floor next to her, and she took it with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Sure enough, the small black-and-white bird was there with the warning, Four days left. How long had it been since the tavern?

The back of her head was wet, and she lifted her hand to feel something warm and sticky tangled in her hair. When she pulled her hand away, it was streaked with red. Wincing, Serena looked around the cell.

A shape was huddled in the corner, shivering, knees drawn up to his chest. He looked up at the sound of the door and met Serena's eyes.

"Patrick!" Serena said with relief. At least they were in the same place. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

Fear shone in his wide, brown eyes, and drew his knees tighter into his chest. His untidy black hair hung over his eyes. "I never should have agreed to help. I never should have come back to Redhaven."

The door opened again, and Serena wheeled around as Berry was flung into the room, screaming obscenities. She bit down on the arm of the guard hauling her, and Serena found a dim satisfaction in seeing the person's arms clawed by her nails and the annoyed expression in his face. A boot kicked her figure through the door, and the door slammed shut again.

Without even pausing to take a breath, Berry turned around and flung herself against the door, bashing her fists against it, and screaming herself hoarse all the while. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you motherfucking demons! Lemme out of here!Come here and face me, you spineless freaks, I'll rip your tongues out and strangle you with them!"

When she had apparently exhausted herself, that or lost her voice, she kicked the door one last time, a dull clang reverberating around the cell, and started walking around the perimeter of the room. She barely acknowledged Serena and Patrick. 

"All right," she growled, tearing hands through her already-messy hair as she paced. "What's the plan? We gotta get outta here!" She punctuated the sentence with a kick at the stone walls. 

"Yeah I agree, let's please leave," Patrick said, his voice a terrified mumble. "As soon as possible."

"Where is here, exactly?" Serena said.

"Where d'you think, princess?"

The last thing she remembered, Serena had been knocked out by a mysterious woman— a sorceress? "It looks like we're in a jail cell of some kind."

"No kidding, genius." Berry threw up her hands. "Apparently the sorceresses were keepin' an eye out for anyone asking after my coven. Someone in the tavern sold us out."

Serena remembered the man in the corner watching her. How could she have been so stupid and careless as to get drunk in a tavern with the sorceresses after them?

"They saw Patrick with you and took him too," Berry said, gesturing at Patrick.

"And me, of course. They keep trying to get information outta me but I ain't saying anything."

A chill slid down Serena's spine. "How did they know my name? And what do they want with me, how did they find out about me? What do they want with us?" When Berry only shrugged, she pressed, "But haven't you talked with them?"

"It was an interrogation," Berry snapped. "I wasn't the one asking the questions."
In the corner, Patrick whimpered.

"It's okay," said Serena, more to convince herself than anyone else. "I have a plan." That got both of their full attention. She drew in a breath, straightening out the folds of her torn clothing and smoothing them out. "If I can convince the the sorceresses that I'll help them after I get out of here, then they'll help me leave. And then I would free both of you, of course," she rushed to add. But more importantly, she would be back home. She could just hit "backspace" and rewrite the whole story, make it so that none of this would ever happen.

Berry scoffed. "What makes you think you can make 'em believe you, huh?"
Serena felt herself blush. "Because— because I wrote them, and I know a lot about them. I know how to persuade them." She wasn't sure that was true; the more time she spent in this world, the less control she felt she exerted over it. But she had to try.

"If that's true, please persuade them to let me go," Patrick said, still hunched in his corner.

"Nuh-uh." Berry was shaking her head, dark eyes glowering up at Serena fiercely. "No way, princess. I ain't gonna sit around waiting to be rescued 'cause you think you're such a charmer. I'm gonna break out." She wheeled on Patrick. "Damn sorceresses took all my spirit-keepers, but you got a spirit. Tell it to break us out!"

"That's not a good idea," Serena said. She knew the sorceresses well— villains were always her favorite to write, so she spent a lot of time getting to know them. "They'll find us, no matter where we run. We don't have a chance against them." Not without the Wild Sisters. The cold, tight dread of hopelessness began sinking over her and twisting her stomach.

"Ignore her," said Berry, "and call your spirit."

"I guess I could try." Eyes flitting between the two of them, Patrick stood up and walked to the center of the room. He closed his eyes, his shoulders rolling with a deep breath, and held out his palms. They began glowing an intense white. Serena and Berry backed away, and then a burst of energy exploded outwards.

Blinded by light, Serena fell back and closed her eyes. A few seconds later her ears were still ringing. She got up, brushing dust off her robes, and looked around; the stone was slightly dented, vestiges of the bright white magic clinging to the walls, but there were no cracks.

"Try again," Berry said.

"No! Why aren't you listening to me?" Anger and frustration drew Serena close to tears. "There's nowhere we can run. If we try to escape, we'll just make it worse for ourselves."

"I ain't gonna stop trying," Berry said, with a finality to her voice. She gestured to Patrick, who rolled back his singed sleeves for another attempt, and Serena knew that trying to convince him would be useless— he'd do anything for the chance to run away. Maybe she should let them; after all, it wasn't them who the sorceresses would be after.

Serena went to a corner of the cell and sat with her back straight against the wall, hands resting on her knees, and waited for the chance to speak to the sorceresses. Berry and Patrick wore themselves out trying to find a way to escape, and she let them; she knew her chance would come.

She waited and waited, the stubborn confidence in her belly curdling to worry, as the sorceresses still didn't arrive. A few times she paced the perimeter of the room. 

Once, the door opened, and Serena's heart leapt, but it was only for a hand to slide a tray of dry desert-rations across the floor— the thick, dry squares of seed and wheat that they had eaten on their journey to Redhaven. That, and more sun-warmed water. 

She longed to be back home and drink clean, filtered water with an ice cube or two. And coffee— she'd kill for a cup of coffee.

She looked around for her bag, but it was nowhere to be found, a fact that struck her more than it should have: She'd lost the only connection she had to the real world.

She didn't know how much time passed, but eventually the door swung open again, and a demon walked in. She knew he must be a demon by his murky red eyes and the slight shimmering of his form, like he had one foot in the real world and the other in the spirit world. Hulking over her, he spoke in a raspy voice like the scrape of metal against metal and faced Serena. "Come."

Berry tried to run for the door, but he knocked her out with a swift hit to her head and she flew to the floor. 

Against all her instincts, Serena walked towards him. Cold hands closed around her wrist. She cast one last look at Berry lying in a crumpled heap on the floor and swallowed before she allowed the demon to lead her out of the dungeon.