“Why not?”
“Because Argeddion has taken that want away from us.”
“I don’t... I don’t want to insult you,” said Elsie, “but I don’t think I could live like that. Don’t you want to be free just for the sake of being free? There has to be some part of you that wants to do whatever you want to do.”
“No,” Lament said, “there isn’t.”
“I doubt that’s entirely true,” said Ghastly. “Our Sensitives have noticed a weakening in the link you have with Argeddion. The longer he spends away from you, the less control he has. Do you feel it? The weakening?”
“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Lament said, “but no, we can’t feel any such thing.”
There was a girl to Lament’s right, a small blonde girl, and she raised her head. “I can,” she said.
Lament turned his head a fraction. “Lenka?”
The girl, Lenka, hesitated. “I can feel it. Argeddion’s control is fading.”
The man at the other end of the line nodded. “I can feel that, too. I’ve been having my own thoughts recently. A strange sensation.”
“Interesting,” said Lament. “Do all of you feel this?”
“I feel a change,” said the other man, the man with dark skin. “Not quite at the level of Kalvin or Lenka, but a definite change. At this rate, it’s conceivable that we all break free of his control completely over the next day or so.”
“All of us?” Lament asked.
The man smiled. “All of us.”
Lament looked happy. “Now that is interesting. Freedom, eh? Well, I’ll be looking forward to that, even if I don’t particularly want it.”
Lenka grinned. “But might the fact that you’re looking forward to it be the first sign that you’re achieving it?”
“Lenka,” he said softly, “you’ve just blown my mind.”
Ghastly looked back at Elsie, and shrugged. “And this isn’t even the weirdest conversation we’ve had this week.”
The shackles that bound her wrists were in turn bound to a long chain in an empty cell and that’s where the Redhood left her. She covered her nose with her hands and breathed through her mouth.
“You get used to it,” said a voice.
There was a man in the cell opposite. He had long grey hair and a long grey beard and looked like he’d been there for a long grey time. His body was bony and old, and he hung from his wrists but didn’t seem to mind the discomfort.
“The smell,” he said. “You get used to the smell. A few days here, you won’t even notice it.”
Valkyrie walked to the door of her cell and looked at him in the gloom. Her mouth opened but she didn’t know what to say. Someone was crying. Someone else was muttering. There seemed to be a light-hearted conversation going on somewhere in the dark, and she wasn’t entirely certain that it was between more than one person. She bit her lip.
“You’re trying not to panic,” the old man said.
A ghost of a smile rose from within. “Yeah,” she answered.
“Keep trying,” said the old man. “You’ll panic soon enough, but at least you’ll know you did your best. Most people panic immediately when they’re brought here, and I think it’s the embarrassment that gets to them in the end.”
There was something about him, something about his voice, that suddenly clicked in her mind.
“Grand Mage?” she asked, frowning.
Eachan Meritorious laughed. “Grand Mage? No one’s called me that for a very long time. You must be older than you look, my dear. What’s your name?”
“Valkyrie,” she said. “Valkyrie Cain. What... what happened to you?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more specific with your questions.”
Her chain was long enough to allow her to step into his cell. “You weren’t always like this.”
“That’s very true,” he said. “Sometimes they hang me upside down.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“They think it’s funny. I suppose it is, in its limited way. When you’re a guard in a dungeon, you have to make your own fun, don’t you? So, tell me what you did to get thrown in here. Not the most original topic of conversation for a dungeon, I admit, but I’m afraid I’m a little behind on current affairs.”
“I tried to help someone.”
“A noble gesture.”
“I tried to help a mortal.”
“A futile gesture. Why ever would you want to do something silly like that? These cells are filled with noble and silly people like you, plus the mortals they tried to help.”
“Grand Mage, I’m not from here.”
“Sightseeing, are you?”
“I’m not from this reality.”
“Hmph,” said Meritorious. “This place didn’t take long to send you round the bend.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I’m not judging you, my dear. Some of my best friends are crazy.” He nodded to the corner. “Take Wallace, for example. He’s crazy as a loon, aren’t you, Wallace?”
Valkyrie frowned. “Uh, there’s... there’s no one there.”
Meritorious sighed. “That’s what we long-term prisoners call dungeon humour. You learn to appreciate it after a few years.”
“I’m not crazy, and I’m not lying. I’m from another reality. Look.” She took out her phone and showed it to him. “This is a phone. See the screen? That’s not magic, that’s technology. That’s mortal technology. Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“No,” said Meritorious, “but that might be because I’ve been stuck in this dungeon for the last few decades. What does it do?”
“It lets me talk to people that aren’t here.”
Meritorious looked unimpressed. “We can all do that, my dear girl.”
“Yeah, but they answer me.”
“I’m sure they do.”
“But not in a crazy way,” she said, getting irritated. “It’s for communication. I can talk to anyone around the world with this.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Meritorious said. “Are you talking about a telephone? My dear, I’ve seen a telephone, and while progress is a wonderful thing, there are some inescapable truths. If that is a telephone, then where are the wires?”
“It