Pulling on my charred shirt, I crawled through the hidden passage and limped down the stairs. I wondered if Henri would notice the difference in me. Would she sense the sapience? I pushed my shoulder against the heavy wooden door and limped into the entrance room. "Henri?"
The stool lay on its side. I pictured her sneaking through the shadows of the Elusian last night then shook the thought away. Voices came from a passage on the far side of the room. I followed them into a small hall that led to the pantries where Henri and I had been hiding yesterday. Muffled sounds came from behind a door Mazol always kept locked. I tried the handle. It turned.
Empty shelves lined the walls, except for a single chest. Henri sat on a chair in the center of the small room, staring at her toes, pale hands tight in her lap. Mazol and Yesler stood on either side. The door screeched on rusted hinges. Their heads jerked up. Mazol shoved me back into the hall. "You ain't allowed in here, gimp."
"She must have fallen asleep. Lash me instead."
Yesler pulled Henri out and threw her at me. Mazol locked the door with three different keys.
"We got more than lashes from her," Yesler said.
Mazol smacked Yesler on the ear. "Shut your hole." He pushed me into the wall. "Make sure you're both in the Caldroen in ten minutes."
"Henri can't work."
Yesler and Mazol crossed the entrance hall and disappeared down a passage.
"Hey!" I yelled.
Their footsteps disappeared as a door clicked shut.
I turned to Henri. "You alright?"
She didn't look at me.
"What did they do to you?" I reached for her hand.
She slipped it away. "I'm fine."
I watched her face. Sadness. Guilt. And more color in her cheeks.
"They let you off the stool early?" I brushed bread crumbs off her collar.
She pushed passed me. "We better go."
I limped to catch up. We walked silently. My stomach growled. I opened my mouth, last night about to pour from my lips, but I bit my tongue. We'd slept in the same bed for years, just two people keeping each other warm. How close can you be to someone and still not really know them?
She stared at the long hall, a tentacle stretching out in front of us.
I reached for her hand. "Henri?"
Our eyes met. A sad sort of twist stretched across her lips. A smile, I suppose.
"What was Mazol telling you when I came in?" I said.
Wrinkles formed on her forehead.
The monster whispered in my ear, filling that stale silence. They gave her a meal to keep an eye on you.
Then she turned and walked away, her feet padding the stone softer with each step until I heard only the warring of wind and windows.