The sound of dripping water was deafening in the otherwise total silence of the catacombs. Every so often, distant footsteps could be heard, but they never approached the cells.
The particular cell Dean had found himself in was more of a hollow within the natural rock than an actual man-made prison cell. A straw mat had been placed right at the back of the hollow and had become damp from the water dripping from the roof. A small hole dug in the ground served as his privy.
Dim lyth stones lit the corridor outside, revealing a multitude of cells similar to his. As far as he knew, they were all empty, though it was difficult to tell in the darkness.
Dean knew exactly where he was. These were the catacombs that stretched for miles below the monastery itself. He couldn't help but think that sending him here had been a slight overreaction on Marianne's part. Leaning back on the straw, he once again went over what had happened the evening before.
*
After seeing Nicolas and having a talk with Matin, he decided to confront Marianne. The longer she had to sink her claws into the academy, the harder it would be to pry her away. Matin had asked him to wait, had told him that he would deal with his mother himself, but Dean wanted to spare him the ordeal. His friend had enough on his plate as it was. But how was he going to get her to leave? He had no evidence that she was the one who poisoned the students, and she had been given almost total control of the academy from the emperor himself. To make matters worse, the emperor and Methaeus were nowhere to be found.
Dean felt as if he had no choice but to resort to more underhanded measures. It was for the good of everyone, after all, and it was clear that talking her out of it was no longer an option.
Coming up with a solution was difficult. He didn't intend to kill her, of course. She was still Matin's mother at the end of the day, and she had shown Dean kindness in the past. The upcoming exams had turned her into a monster. That was all. In that case, a simple kidnapping would work just fine. He was sure none of Marianne's guards knew the monastery like he did. He considered asking his friends for help, but getting caught would likely end in execution for all but the highest level of nobility. Even he was looking at complete disinheritance and many years in a cell if something like this came to light.
His plan, therefore, was simple. The first step was to bribe her guards for that day. Nothing too difficult, Marianne never commanded the loyalty in her troops that Oscar could. They were as open to taking money as any common mercenary. Making sure to hide his identity, he handed over a large sum to the guardsmen he knew would be on duty that night.
Next, he was to confront her in the cathedral, near the entrance to the catacombs, where it would be easy to take her underground. She spent a lot of time in the cathedral backrooms where most of the administrative work of the monastery was undertaken. She even had her own office there now that she was in charge of the academy. A simple sleeping drug added to her tea would be all that was needed.
It was during this step that everything had fallen apart. He placed the drug into the tea during a visit earlier that day and, after bribing the guards away, made his way to the office Marianne worked in. Soon after, a servant with Marianne's evening tea knocked on her door and delivered it before promptly leaving. He waited a little while to ensure she had imbibed it and fallen unconscious before entering.
Slowly, he opened the door and, as expected, found Marianne slumped over at her desk.
"Marianne?" he called out, just to be sure.
There was no response.
He felt the tension vanish and his muscles relaxed. Everything had worked out just fine. He moved quickly to Marianne's side and reached out a hand to grab hold of her. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, unable to catch his breath and feeling a sharp pain on the side of his face. Stunned, it took him a moment to crawl to his feet, and when he did, he found Marianne standing there looking at him.
"Awfully brave of you to assume me defenseless without a guard," she said, adopting a fighting stance with one hand held out and open in front of her, the second held back and closed in a fist.
Dean blinked a few times to steady his vision. Thankfully, his identity was still hidden by the cloth mask he wore. He briefly considered running away on the spot but dismissed the idea. If Marianne had anticipated his arrival, then escape was unlikely. Besides, he owed it to Matin and everyone else to put her down for the time being. It was the right thing to do. He simply felt hesitant to attack a woman who was over twice his age.
"You also managed to knock out my poison tester, though he simply fell unconscious. Is it a kidnapping for ransom or perhaps the revenge of an angered student? How toothless indeed."
He cursed himself for not considering a poison tester.
If Marianne was feeling threatened by his attack, she didn't show it on her face. Dean readied himself. If he could at least restrain her, then he could force the sleeping drug he had left in his pocket down her throat. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
"I wouldn't try anything if I were you. Your second mistake was trying to bribe my personal guard. They know all too well that if they come to me with a bribe, I will pay them double. The more I consider this, the more I see you as a naïve student, not a hired assassin."
He charged forward, intending to grab her. He was forced to raise his arm when she raised her leg to kick him in the side of the head. The speed and angle of it took him completely by surprise, and blocking her foot had left him open to a second punch in the face. This time, she did not politely wait for him to recover and rained down a hail of kicks and punches as Dean struggled to understand how a woman her age could move like that.
When it was all over, he was left half-conscious on the floor, regretting the fact that he had held back. He wasn't even sure if he could have overpowered her, even if he had gone into the fight ready to kill. He had always spent more time focusing on swordplay over hand to hand combat. Fool that he was.
Marianne pulled his mask down, and her eyes widened in shock.
"Dean?"
*
Dean flinched as a sharp pain flared in his nose. He was sure it was broken and probably looked crooked just about now. A shame. He was rather proud of his facial features. He moved towards the front of his cell and peered out between the iron bars. How long had he been down here now? The cycle of night and day meant little underground, but he had slept three times so he could only assume the same amount of days had passed, give or take.
Nobody had come to see him yet. Had Marianne forbidden visitors? Did she even tell anyone he was down here? The monastery had a separate dungeon nestled within its stone walls that was used for petty criminals and the like. As far as he knew, nobody had been locked down in the catacombs for years. Not since the days the church had commanded more power within the empire.
It was so quiet. The guards who came to deliver food to him were always dead silent. He had nothing but the constant dripping of water from above to keep him company. Goddess, what he wouldn't do for a drink.
"H-hello?"
At first, Dean thought his mind was playing tricks on him, just the wind blowing down from the surface, conjuring an old memory.
"Hello, c-can you hear me?"
Dean shot up from the straw mat. Either he had finally lost it, or he wasn't actually alone in this place. He got up and made his way towards the iron bars to check outside. The area seemed as empty as ever until he spotted two pale hands holding the bars of a cell opposite and slightly to the left of his. He squinted and just about made out a feminine face framed by long black hair.
"Hey!" Dean said, surprise in his voice. He honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. The fact that someone else was here was enough to render him speechless.
"Hello Dean, it's good to see you again," came the soft, timid voice from the opposite cell.
"Uh, yeah?"
The greeting was familiar, but from what he could see and remember, the girl opposite was a stranger to him. On top of that, her tone had been extremely calm and casual, given the location. Dean worried for a moment that he might have encountered a person of questionable mental stability.
"So, what are you here for? Theft? Murder? Looking at Marianne the wrong way?" Dean asked.
There was a brief pause as the girl tilted her head in confusion.
"Oh, I'm here because I'm a bad person."
Dean couldn't prevent a sharp and loud guffaw escaping his lips.
"And what, pray tell, made you a bad person?"
Another short silence.
"I don't know, that's just what she told me when tshe put me here."
Her voice sounded slightly aloof and airy. Not at all the tone one would take after being imprisoned underground.
"My condolences." Dean said, uncertainty in his voice.
He didn't know how to deal with this situation. If the person had sounded like your typical criminal, it wouldn't have made him feel this uncomfortable. Perhaps she had been down here for so long that her mind had simply learned to deal with it in its own way.
"Hey, do you like books?"
The question was so unexpected that Dean's mind seemed to freeze completely. When he found his voice again, he could only utter a single word.
"W-what?"
Those words carried weight for him. Had he heard them from someone else before? Or perhaps he had uttered them himself?
No, that doesn't matter. It doesn't apply to this story, so just keep reading.
"What?" he asked dumbly, his mind lurching slightly.
"I-I think it can be a little boring down here, so a book can really help you, you know? I have one, so I was wondering… maybe you'd like to have it?"
The young woman's voice had sped up towards the end, flustered. She disappeared into her cell for a moment, and when she returned, she held out a small leather-bound book towards him.
Dean squinted in an attempt to read the title with little luck before turning his gaze back towards the young woman..
"What's your name?" he asked.
"M-me? I'm Cait," she answered.
"Cait," Dean repeated. "Well, Cait, it's a pleasure to meet you in such fine surroundings. You call me Dean, although I see you already know me. My reputation really does precede me. I suppose I'll take you up on your offer. Reckon you could throw that book over here?"
He'd been in this cell for a while now, and being alone with his own thoughts had been nothing less than torture. A book and some company sounded just perfect, given the current situation.
Cait nodded and tossed the book towards his cell with surprising force. Her aim was a little off, but the book struck the iron bars of his cell before falling to the ground below.
Once he recovered the book, Dean looked at the cover. It had a picture of an old woman in a pointed hat, stirring a cauldron.
"The tale of the rich witch," Dean read aloud. "This is a children's fairy tale."
Cait's eyes widened as she grabbed the bars of her prison cell.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. You don't like it, I should have known."
"No, no. That's not it." Dean replied in a hurry, not wanting to upset the girl.
The book had been one of his favorites in his youth. He was simply surprised to see it here of all places. It actually felt rather comforting and nostalgic to have it in his hands again. Besides, any book was better than no book in his mind.
"Thank you," he said. "This'll help me keep my mind off things."
Cait's face lit up at his words. Her smile almost seemed too happy given their current predicament.
Another few days passed with no word from the outside, but at least now Dean had someone to talk to and something to read. He found himself appreciating Cait's company even if she was a little odd. However, doubts plagued his mind. Why hadn't anyone been down to see him yet? Several days must have passed, and not even Matin or Addi had come to see him. The only contact he'd had from the outside were the grumpy guardsmen who brought his meals without a word. He was starting to get worried.
As the days passed, Dean noticed a certain detail. The guards' expressions gradually seemed to become more strained, and their faces were growing pale. They appeared just as exhausted and stressed as he must have looked. The time in between meal deliveries also seemed to increase, as the quality decreased.
The one thing that kept his mind sane was Cait. Her timid yet slightly cheerful tone felt completely out of place in the dirty dank of the catacombs, but he found himself relying on it more and more as the days went by.
*
"-and then we struck, taking out his assailants with ease and efficiency." Dean said in the most dramatic tone he could muster.
Across the way, Cait looked at him with eyes wide in awe. She had actually clapped her hands from time to time as Dean told her stories from his childhood. Dean knew he had a habit of bragging, and he often reveled in the attention of others, but Cait's genuine, child-like reactions had left him with mixed feelings over his own theatrics. He'd almost come to expect the sour looks given to him by his friends whenever he went overboard with his stories.
"That boy we saved, he eventually became my best friend." Dean said, his voice growing quieter and more reserved.
"What's his name?" Cait asked.
"Matin," Dean replied.
He wondered how Matin was doing. The time for the final exams had probably come and gone by this stage. Had he passed? Was Marianne happy with the result? Why hadn't anybody come for him yet?
"I think someone should write a book about you and your adventures in the capital," Cait said wistfully.
Dean let out a short laugh.
"Come on, it wasn't that impressive. Just a bunch of kids causing trouble in the slums."
He couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia, thinking back on those days. Everything had seemed so straightforward then. There had been a clear divide between right and wrong in the eyes of a child experiencing the world for the first time.
"But what you did helped a lot of people. You're just like a hero from the books!"
Dean remained silent at the sudden compliment, thinking back on his failed attack on Marianne and his humiliation in front of the emperor. It was too much. A small part of himself even resented Cait for her childish optimism. He quickly repressed that thought, however. She was trying to make him feel better in her own way.
Another couple of sleep cycles passed. The guards' visits grew farther and farther apart. Dean wasn't sure if his mental condition had turned for the worse, but the halls of the catacombs seemed to grow gradually darker with each passing day. He wondered how long it had been since they changed the lyth stones. Hunger was also becoming a problem. If they kept feeding meager scraps, he would most likely starve.
"It's ok, someone will come for you soon. You said he was here, right? Your best friend? He won't leave you here."
Cait looked at Dean with a concerned expression as she held on tightly to the bars of her cell's door. Dean allowed himself a bitter smile. She must have been paying close attention to his expressions if she was that worried about him.
"If his mother has her say, then I doubt he will. He still hasn't learned how to stand up to her yet. Don't worry, your company is more than enough for me," he finished, trying to keep his tone bright.
Cait's worried expression remained despite his words. It was clear his mask of confidence was slipping, if even she could see through it. He needed to get himself together. A lot of people relied on him.
"I'm happy you feel that way, Dean. But your smile. I don't like it. It's not like your usual smile at all."
"And what exactly is my usual smile like, then?" He snapped back, instantly regretting his harsh tone. What was wrong with him?
Cait flinched a little, but soon recovered and looked back at him.
"Full of confidence. One I know I can trust to see me through the darkest of times… a-and save me when I'm in trouble."
Don't be stupid.
That's what Dean wanted to say. Her blind devotion to someone she had just met in a cell was making him feel uncomfortable. How could she act so familiar with him?
He had wanted to be exactly like Cait described, to be a person who could make people's lives better. It even caused him to rebel against Marianne, for all the good that had done everybody. Now, all he wanted was for someone to come and see him. Anyone. Addi, Matin, hell, he'd even take Marianne herself at this point.
Miraculously, his wish would come true not long after, when Matin of all people walked up to his cell. When Dean caught sight of him, he leapt towards his cell doors and smashed into them, causing Matin to step backwards in shock.
"Matin… you," he paused once he got good look at his friend. "You look even worse than I probably do."
Dean was about to say something else, but the instant he saw Matin, all thought of his own problems faded away.
"What happened?" He asked quietly.
Matin's hair, which was usually springy and curly, clung to his forehead, wet with sweat. His eyes were red behind spectacles that were slightly tilted too far to one side. He looked down at his feet with a pained expression.
"Nicolas is dead, Dean. And so is Maria." He said, coughing up the words as though they physically hurt his throat.
Dean felt his grasp on the iron bars slacken. Everything around him disappeared from his notice.
"What did you say?" he whispered, his voice losing all strength.
Matin took several deep breaths.
"Nicolas died… he died from his illness and Maria she-"
Matin's voice broke, and he had to stop for a moment before continuing.
"She was found dead with an arrow in her chest not a few hours later."
"An arrow in her chest?" Dean said, an incredulous laugh spilling unintentionally from his lips.
The sensation of the cold metal bars slipped through his palms, and before he knew it, he was on his knees.
It was just too much to take in at once. He always knew Nicolas had been suffering from something, but he never thought it would take him this quickly. What had happened to Maria? Who could have killed her? While he had been lounging about in his cell, his friends had been dying. He backed away from the bars until his back hit the wall.
"Not only them but Sophia too. She-"
Matin couldn't finish his sentence and broke down crying on the spot. So Sophia had died too. Dean's breaths came quickly, and he felt as if he were going to suffocate.
"Matin, hey. Tell me what happened. Please."
Matin looked down at him with red eyes, his breaths deep and slow.
"I don't know, I…"
"Matin, calm down and talk to me," Dean said, battling through his own weakness and trying desperately to make his voice sound as stable as possible. "I can help."
"I don't know Dean." Matin said, shaking his head from side to side wildly. "We still haven't found Maria's killer, and Nicolas and Sophia died of… natural causes. That's what they say."
Matin himself didn't seem to believe his own words. Dean felt his teeth grinding against each other.
"Let me out, Matin." he said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
He needed to get out and find out what was going on. He couldn't stay in this cell a moment longer. Not if there was a killer about. To his shock, Matin was shaking his head.
"If mother sees you now she might… No, I have to go back…sorry Dean, I'm so sorry."
Without waiting another moment, Matin turned on his heels and fled the area.
"Matin! Matin, Goddess damn you and damn that mother of yours!" Dean yelled after him, losing himself in rage and bitterness.
"You always were just her loyal little puppy, weren't you? Goddess dammit!"
Dean bent over as dry sobs wracked his throat. He punched the iron bars as hard as he could, not even feeling the pain as the skin was torn from his knuckles.
Maria, Nicolas and Sophia. All of them gone, just like that. People whom he had known for years and had just spoken to just a few days before. In this dark and dank cell, it just didn't seem real. He knew that if he escaped and went back to the academy, he would find Maria there teasing Nicolas about one thing or another. He'd find Matin and Sophia studying happily together in the library. Things that had been the same for years couldn't change so much and so quickly. It was impossible.
"D-Dean?" came Cait's soft voice from the opposite cell.
He looked up to find Cait looking at him, tears streaming down her own cheeks. She had been unusually quiet during Matin's visit, and Dean had forgotten about her in the heat of the moment.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, a hint of bitterness entering his voice.
She shouldn't be crying. She didn't even know his friends. What right did she have to share in his grief?
Cait brought a hand up to her cheeks, wiping them dry.
"I-I'm crying?" she asked slowly, staring at her palms.
Dean clicked his tongue in annoyance without uttering a word.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Seeing you like this makes me hurt too." She said slowly, as if in the process of trying to figure out her own emotions.
"My friends are dead, Cait! What makes you think you understand anything about what that feels like?" he snapped.
"I-I'm not sure why. I really don't. B-but I really do understand this pain. It feels so real," Cait stuttered. "But please don't be sad. I'm sure things will get better soon!"
Dean almost burst out laughing. He made do with a single derisive chuckle and glared back at Cait.
"Telling people to just stop mourning is the height of arrogance, you know. Does it make you feel good about yourself? Being all kind and sweet like that?"
"Don't be sad, Dean, please cheer up. Some of your friends are still alive. Yhey'll need you, I'm sure of it."
Dean opened his mouth, but his words caught in his throat. Speaking to Cait right now was no better than talking to a wall, with her repeating similar lines over and over again. Nothing but words of empty, hollow comfort. They were talking over each other and not to each other. What was wrong with this girl?
With one last glare, he turned his back on her to lean his back against the bars of his cell.
"You'll feel better soon, Dean."
"Soon it'll be like none of this ever happened."
"Don't be sad."
"Please cheer up Dean, everyone needs you. I need you."
Cait's words of consolation continued for some time with or without Dean's reactions. Even when he tried to plug his ears, he could hear them. Her words were so gentle and kind, and yet they felt off somehow. Dean wanted to scream, but no matter what he tried, her voice would reach him again.
Eventually, as his mind calmed down, her words stopped, and she started crying quietly in her cell. With his blood cooler than it had been, Dean felt horrible for shouting at her. He reminded himself that her situation was just as bad as his.
"How long have you been down here?" he asked quietly into the darkness.
The crying stopped for a moment.
"I can't remember. A really long time, I think," came the quiet reply.
"Sorry. It's probably a horrible thing, being stuck down here for so long," he whispered.
He heard her laugh gently to herself.
"It's fine now that you're here, Dean."
Dean laughed and shook his head. She certainly was a strange one.
"A bond forged between cold, hard bars, huh?"
"A b-bond? Between cold bars?"
Dean just smiled and shook his head. Being trapped underground for so long was making him feel poetic.
Another couple of days passed. The guard who had been feeding him was replaced by one clad in the green and gold of House Edmund, evidently one of Marianne's men. He looked even less cheerful.
"Let me out, oh won't you please let me out, out, out." Dean sang at the top of his lungs as the guard passed his meal through the bars.
The guard just sneered at him, looking as if he had just spotted a particularly ugly cockroach.
"Hey, so what happened to your predecessor? Did Marianne have him killed too?" Dean asked in a cheery voice.
The guard spat at his cell before walking away, muttering 'lunatic' as he walked.
"Pleasant fellow," Dean said as he picked up a stale loaf of bread from the ground.
"Dean, are you alright?" Cait asked.
"Never been better, dear! The food here is fantastic, is it not? My compliments to the chef!"
He bit into the bread, feeling his teeth grind against its rock-like crust. It took almost an entire minute of chewing before he could swallow. His mouth was so damned dry. After finishing his food, he lay down on the straw and once again dozed off.
Screams.
Dean's eyes snapped open. He held his breath and listened carefully. He could have sworn that the sound of people screaming had woken him up.
Eyes unfocused, he lifted his head and looked out through the cell. Strangely, jagged red lines had appeared on the wall. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, the red lines were gone.
"I'm losing my mind here." He muttered.
There were no red lines, no screaming. Even with Cait's company, his sanity was slipping. He was so hungry.
Curious, he looked over towards her cell only to find her looking right at him. Her face only slightly visible from the glow of a distant lyth stone.
"You need to get a nicer hobby, my lady." He said.
"You're not going mad."
"What?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"You are worried, but you don't need to be. What you see and hear. I see and hear the same things."
"Y-you do?" He asked, leaning up.
Normally, he'd brush off such an absurd statement, but he was desperate for any bit of good news, however unrealistic it might be.
"Where are those screams coming from and those red lines, just what are they?"
Cait shook her head.
"I'm not sure. It just feels like something really bad is happening above us. Don't you feel it too?"
Dean could only agree that everything was falling apart around them. His mind flashed back to the guards, the only other people he had seen since Matin's visit. They had looked progressively more haggard as the days went by, and they had even started to disappear, being replaced by other downtrodden men. Then there was Matin. With Nicolas and Maria dead, it was no wonder his friend hadn't looked the best.
Judging by the lack of visits, Dean could only conclude that whatever was going on up top had yet to be resolved and, if anything, was only getting worse.
Bang Bang Bang
"Let me out, dammit!" Dean yelled.
Another few days had passed, and Dean felt as if he were at his absolute limit. His knuckles were all bloody, and he was sure he had broken a finger or two since he had started slamming his fists against the cell door. His face was probably unrecognisable from the dirt and facial hair now covering it.
Cait continued to look on him with worry, offering the odd word of encouragement from time to time. Honestly, Dean wondered why she even bothered.
It was a day later when the screaming began again. This time, though, it sounded so close. Just down the corridor, by the sound of it. A terrified scream cut short, followed by the sound of something running fast. Not a person by any means. It sounded very different, almost animal-like.
"The monsters." Dean whispered.
That must have been it. The monastery was being overrun as he rotted down in his cell. He remembered the first victim, Livia. They had been told that a monster had gotten to her. Likely a ghoul or tree wraith or something. He hadn't really believed it at the time, but perhaps it had been the truth.
That night, Dean didn't move a muscle and remained wide awake.
"Don't worry, Dean, you'll be safe. I'm sure of it." Cait whispered as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
"Dean, wake up. Dean!"
Dean blinked a couple of times as the ceiling of his cell slowly came into view. Someone was calling out to him. He raised his head and looked out of his cell door. What did Cait want now? He didn't have any apples for her today, so she'd have to come back tomorrow. No, wait. That had been a dream. Right?
Two people stood in front of his cell. They were very familiar to him, so he must have been dreaming.
"Matin? Marianne?" He croaked.
"Dean, I'm so sorry. Let's get you out of here."
Before Dean even knew what was going on, the cell door opened. Now he knew he must have been dreaming. He slowly got to his knees with a grunt and greeted his guests.
"Welcome to my humble abode. Would you like something to drink? I've got…cave water."
Matin looked at him with concern, while Marianne seemed to roll her eyes. Judging by her expression, she wasn't very happy with the current situation.
"Are you alright?" Matin asked as he looked at Dean from head to toe.
"Of course!" Dean said loudly. "I haven't had to work or study or listen to anyone. It was practically a holiday for me!"
His entire body ached, and he was so hungry his stomach had started to hurt. His eyes quickly shot towards the open cell door, and he briefly considered trampling over his two visitors to get outside. In Marianne's case, he wouldn't be opposed to locking her in behind him.
"Come on, let's get you to the others. We don't really have much food, but at least we'll be able to get you some bread or cheese."
What was going on up there? He was about to ask that very question when Marianne spoke up.
"In all honestly, he's probably safer here than up there. Can't you think about this some more, dear?" Marianne asked, looking up at her son.
Matin shook his head.
"Sorry mother. Please let him come back with us."
Matin's tone suggested that this wasn't the first time she had asked this question. To Dean's complete surprise, Marianne nodded obediently and let the topic go.
"Let's get going." Matin said, turning around.
"Wait a minute!" Dean said, calling out to him.
Matin froze before turning around.
"Can you tell me what the hell is going on?" Dean asked, desperate for any sort of answer.
"We'll tell you when we get back. Now come on and don't dawdle." Marianne hissed as she followed her son down the corridor.
"You're free now. I'm so glad."
Dean stood on the spot and didn't move to follow them. When Matin noticed, he turned around.
"What are you waiting for? We're not safe here, so we should hurry."
"I'm not going anywhere without her," Dean said, gesturing with his thumb towards the opposite cell.
Both Marianne and Matin gave him a confused look before turning their gazes towards the cell in question. Cait had watched the exchange silently with a small smile on her face. When the pair laid eyes on her, she lowered her head, covering her face behind her long black hair.
"Mother, did you have other people down here too?" Matin asked quietly.
Marianne shook her head.
"Of course not. Keeping Dean down here was a secret. All other criminals were sent to the dungeons."
Dean couldn't help but glare at Marianne as she spoke. No wonder nobody had visited him. He was worried sick about the others. Were they looking for him? Addi would have had every stone at the monastery turned over in order to find him. That fact worried him to no end. Was she still alive?
"I've only been sending one meal a day down here. Who are you, girl?" Marianne asked, a rare hint of uncertainty in her voice.
Dean himself felt like smacking his head against the wall. Not once had he seen Cait being given food. Could he actually be that self-centered? However, if what Marianne said was true, then how had she survived this long?
"I-I'm Cait, it's nice to see you again, Lady Evelyn." Cait replied in a weak voice, still refusing to make eye contact.
Marianne stared at her for a moment longer. Biting her lip as if deep in thought.
"We can take this thing with us," she said finally.
"What do you mean?" Dean said, unable to keep the indignation from his voice.
"She is… a threat, an evil person. That's likely the reason she is here and why she should remain here,." Marianne hissed.
"I'm not leaving without her!" Dean said, his voice threatening.
Marianne's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth, preparing for a shouting match, but Matin stepped in.
"Dean, I know how you must feel. You've spent all this time with her by your side, right? It's natural to feel some kind of camaraderie with someone when going through a tough time together, but I think you should listen to Mother. There's something not right about… her."
Dean felt his retort catch in his throat. Even Matin was hostile towards her? Matin didn't have a nasty bone in his body. He remembered how the boy used to treat everyone with kindness, even those who did terrible things to him. But that was the worst thing about it. There was no malice in Matin's voice. He might as well have been talking about a pile of rotten food that Dean was thinking of eating.
He looked back at Cait. She gave a small, sad smile and nodded. She was telling him to go on ahead. Well, he certainly wasn't going to let that happen.
"If she doesn't come, then I stay here." He said, planting his feet squarely on the ground.
Marianne clicked her tongue as Matin donned a complicated expression.
"Dear, we can't stay here. Let's leave him here, shall we?" Marianne said, not even looking in Dean's direction.
Matin looked at Dean.
"Is this really so important to you?" He asked.
"Yes, it is," Dean replied without hesitation.
Matin sighed and nodded.
"Fine, then. I think the keys for the rest of the cells are back there." He said, pointing down the corridor behind him.
"Dear, this is foolish. Who knows what someone like her could get up to if left to walk free. You're putting yourself in danger," Marianne said frantically.
"More danger than I'm in already? If Dean says she's trustworthy, then I'm not about to disagree."
Marianne made an expression that resembled someone sucking on a sour lemon, but said no more about the topic. A few moments of searching later and Cait was finally out of her cell.
"Thank you, Dean," she whispered with a sweet smile.
"Think nothing of it. I couldn't live with myself if I left someone to rot down here," he replied, giving her his most confident smile.
"If you're both done, then let us get a move on." Marianne said, clearly at her wit's end.
She stormed off ahead, and Dean and the others were forced to follow. At long last he was free of that dank cell. However, when they eventually reached the surface, Dean almost wished he could have stayed there.