23

And as I look around in the darkness, the exhilaration that I had just felt dried up. I have absolutely no idea which direction to go in. But since standing around is hardly a solution, I take the first uncertain step forward. It's paradoxical and not really possible, but in fact I have the feeling that my surroundings are becoming even more obscure. Complete bullshit as the torches are still burning. Still, I look around furtively. But nothing but two gears can be seen.

that he hears me is quite high. The faintest noises here probably echo into every corner. But I don't dare to be loud. I am aware of why this is so. I'm not really supposed to be here. At least judging by common sense. Still, walking around the dungeon doesn't feel wrong. It's not true either, but there's still no remorse in me.

But the cold bothers me. I'm still wearing only Xerxe's cloak and the torches don't give off any warmth either. These only ensure that the penetrating smell of sweat and the stale air is accompanied by smoke. I automatically wrinkle my nose, but still reach for a torch and take it out on the device. At least that way I can see something more. And maybe I can make out little marks where I've walked and where I haven't. For a brief moment, I'm tempted to spot a torch and then use the soot to draw a guide of sorts for myself. However, even identifying them would prove difficult. Here is nothing. And just hitting the ground blindly would probably only give me more wounds. I automatically look at my legs and recognize the dark red rivulets of blood on them. How this has already made its way to my feet. leaves footprints on the floor. Immediately I turn and point the firelight toward the ground. You can see small footprints from me. These aren't big and a coin would probably be enough to cover the red spots. But they are there. And so I laid my trail. With my own blood Just another twist of fate. to cover the red spots. But they are there. And so I laid my trail. With my own blood Just another twist of fate. to cover the red spots. But they are there. And so I laid my trail. With my own blood Just another twist of fate.

And the sight of it makes my heart pound painfully against my ribs. The flickering, orange glow on the light skin makes it look like the devil himself wants to drag me into his hell.

"Let me go," I choke out and can only stare at my fingers. The way they're wrapped around my wrist like a vice. The dirt on them hardly allows a view of my skin. But I know this sight too well from the gutter .This is nothing new to me.So I ram my fingernails into his arm.Trying to force them to let go of me.He yelps but doesn't loosen his grip for a second.

But no matter what form the wounds are, they all have one thing in common. The inflammation. The reddened skin and pus. But I can't keep looking at him. The tension on my arm increases and one thing is clear, if the stranger manages to get my hand into his cell, then I've lost. And so I clench my teeth and brace myself against the bars.

I just need a second Merely a moment of my attacker's weakness. The key is still in my hand. a weapon. So I grab the iron even tighter and only let a small part peek out. I take another deep breath and look at my goal. The bony hand. The dirty fingernails. Then I strike. With all my strength. A shrill scream rings out, but the grip doesn't relax. At least not as far as I need it. So I swish the key down on my fingers a second time and finally my attacker flinches. Only briefly. Such a tiny moment that decides on victory or defeat. And in this case, it's my victory. I tear myself from his clutches with all my might. The blood is pounding in my ears when I'm finally free. But the sudden lack of grip causes me to stumble and, with a gasp, I land on my butt. That's enough to make bitter bile rise in my mouth. Magda's welts burn. Make me feel like I'm just about to burst into flames. Nevertheless, I quickly push myself backwards. Away from the two cells.

"You idiot," one screeches, jumping against the bars. There's a loud clang, but the cell holds up. And so my rapidly beating heart slowly calms down. What the hell was that? I'm not even able to get up straight , can only watch wide-eyed as the prisoner bangs against the iron bars once more.The bang from the impact lashes through the dungeon again, making me wince.

"I didn't stand a chance," he whines to others, and though I can't see him, I can picture him clasping his hand to himself. Checking it for any other wounds. I shake my head. I really shouldn't care .But, what is not unimportant is the low rumble of thunder.The bass-drenched laughter that makes it to me.Zaret.

"Now we don't have any food again!" And if I just felt something like joy, it is extinguished with this sentence. Eating? A bad foreboding spreads in me and I immediately push myself further away from the cells it doesn't matter that the rough rock of the ground just tears my butt open further.

"Then try your luck next time," the injured man yells, and slowly it seeps through my racing thoughts that they are talking about me. I am the food. It's sick. And now I push myself up. That my legs keep buckling, I negate, I have to get out of here.

"I certainly wouldn't have let her go, you loser." The prisoner looks at me again before retreating into the blackness of the cell. And so do I. Just turn on my heel and let go of the torch lying on the floor. Let them both suffocate in the smoke. I don't care. But even if I try to suppress the thought that there seem to be cannibals down here, I can't help but shiver. It doesn't even come from what just happened "But because I'm not sure if Xerxes didn't get her to do it. Through his cruelty. Through the prohibition on food. Through his whole way. But I shouldn't bother with that now either. I can do that later."

***

I want to go to Zaret. But the laughter has died down. Silence surrounds me again, but this time I don't perceive it as dangerous. Zaret must be around. And just to confirm my assumption, the only cell that is lit appears after the next corner. The ones I've seen before. My heart skips a beat and now my hands are starting to tremble. However, I cannot say why this is so. It could be the prospect of coming face to face with Zaret, or it could be the wearing off of the shock.

"You really attract trouble, huh?" Zaret is still sitting in the same corner, not even looking in my direction. It's a wonder he even noticed me coming his way.

"Yes, it's a gift," I mumble, having to pull myself together not to walk faster. I don't want Zaret to notice how pleased I am to see him. It's enough that I look him up. That should give him enough information. But mixed with my joy is something else. Anger. Zaret shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be sitting in a cell. It looks wrong to see that man crouching in the corner from a mountain. Kind of surreal. And like he's my thoughts Hear it, he stands up. Slowly. It's clear that Zaret is in pain. The soft moaning also shows it clearly.

"A gift or stupidity?" he chokes out and leans against the wall for a moment. And now I'm close enough to Zaret to see the violent heaving of his upper body. He's probably fighting the nausea, the strong one Bring injuries. Yes, I know that all too well. And since the question doesn't need an answer for me, I cloak myself in silence. I don't want to speak right now. Just want to enjoy this brief moment. And as I stand at the bars he looks at me. Just the sight of it is enough to make my heart skip a beat. He looks exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes mean he should be sleeping. And the puffiness only makes him look more tired. Still seems my brain having decided that he is beautiful.Bonded highlights hang far down his forehead, and in a completely wacky way, Zaret's thoughtful expression is incredibly appealing to me.

"So what are you doing here Kalota?" He tilts his head slightly and pushes himself off the wall. Takes a step closer to me. In fact, Zaret manages to make fluid movements. There's no slight jerk, indicating pain. But this one he has, and I only need a quick glance to see that.

"I wanted to check on you." I haven't conjured up the key yet. However, I can't say why I didn't open the door immediately. Maybe because I think a small protective wall between us is good? After all, it protects me from Zaret can immediately cast a spell over me again with his touch.

Zaret nods and now reaches the bars. He keeps looking at me and I would like to look away because it seems to me again that his gaze is eating into me. But I can not. The so beautiful brown captivates me. "Then you would have done it now." He smiles slightly and I can only exhale in complete bewilderment.

Surely he can't be serious? No gratitude or interest how I got here. Gosh, I'm putting my life on the line right now. Zaret must recognize that too?! Or at least appreciate it. Instead, the eyes just sparkle happily. There's that lightheartedness of him again. and as paradoxical as it is, it infects me. We are surrounded by death, imprisonment and torment. And yet Zaret manages to fool me into thinking something like normality. As if it were nothing special that bars separate us.

"But this visit would be a bit too short," I whisper and a small smile creeps onto my lips. God, what am I doing here? But instead of pursuing this question, I now open the hand in which the key is. "Well, if you're nice to me, I might be able to keep you company a little longer." In fact, I sound bittersweet. It's a miracle that I'm able to do this at all. But that's how it is with Zaret. He gives me strength paired with weakness. Two emotions that can't really go hand in hand and yet they do with him.

Zaret looks briefly at my open hand. At the iron gleaming in the torchlight before he looks up again. "Nice, yes?" He snorts with amusement and as much as I hate to admit it, I really like this situation. This time I have the reins in my hands. At least as long as the door is still closed. But despite this fact, I can't wait to finally open the cell. I'm excited. Really excited. There is such a wonderful tingling sensation in me that I haven't felt in a long time. This looks almost innocent. Like a child looking forward to their birthday.

Zaret leans even closer to the bars, wrinkling his nose slightly. As a result, he actually manages to appear a bit grumpy. As if I had insulted him. "Aren't I always nice to you?" The voice has probably just dropped hundreds of octaves and I can hardly suppress a pleasant shiver. I should at least have some control over the situation and not immediately give in to the thunder of his voice. No matter how difficult it is for me. "I think there's more to it," I whisper, squinting at the key. Zaret also follows my gaze and the grin on his face gets a little wider.

"Then come in and let's test how much more is possible." wicked. Absolutely everything about Zaret screams that he's not referring to niceness right now, but something else entirely. Something more intimate. Zaret's statement alone is enough to make my abdomen throb. But instead of showing Zaret that, I just look at him thoughtfully. I want to enjoy this situation for a moment. However, we both know where this is going. I'll go in to him. Zaret has no doubts about that. That screams his full presence. This one is too confident. Far too safe.

That should strike me as negative. But don't do it. So I sigh again and step towards the door. Slide the key into the designated hole. I am aware that I am committing absolute madness here. I should never open Zaret. He could use it as an escape route. It could be that he leaves me to my fate and just runs away. Or he just doesn't do it. Both are scenarios that I am aware of.

And I don't want to question anymore. Don't want to find out anymore why Zaret has this effect on me. Why should I do this? Why should I question something that helps me? I keep having this feeling that I'm cold all the time. That my blood freezes to ice. And that's true. Everything is harder for me. Sometimes simply raising your arms is too strenuous. As if my body would quit the service. And with the ice comes the inner powerlessness. That pleasant feeling of numbness. But it's not that far for me yet. I can feel some of the inner decay. The pain that comes with it. These are the moments when the ice turns into blazing flames. And all that's left is scorched earth. Nothing that can ever be used again.

But Zaret gives me the water I need so much. This isn't enough to take my agony away - to quench the fire like that. But that doesn't have to happen either. It's enough for me if just for one damn second don't keep turning to ash inside. One damn second I feel like there's a chance for once. And with that in mind, I turn the key in the lock. There's a soft click and just as I'm about to open the door, Zaret rips it open. I gasp, but before I can even protest, he throws me against the wall. Presses himself against me with his full body weight and lets me feel the pleasant heat of his body once more.