Forgotten Monsters

Chapter 6- The Queen of Hearts

I realize that I have been ending on cliffhangers lately, so this time it isn't as bad hopefully. Anyway, vote if you like it!                                                                                                                                   

With a wave of her fingers the two almost identical girls who posed decoratively behind Serena moved to her side. The queen thought she had heard a small exclamation of shock from one of them when the girl had died, but the pretty teenager seemed to have composed herself and was now staring straight ahead with mute disinterest. She had chosen this girl because of the lofty way she gazed over everyone's heads. Framed by the blondes, she rose gracefully so that she could peer down at the servant who had uttered her nephew's name. 

Serena reached a dainty hand out to cover Cain's. She was pleased to find him entirely under her control once again. There had been a horrible moment of incohesion when Cain had regained a piece of his mind. It always felt as though she was losing a part of herself when she let go of Cain. If it didn't exhaust her so, she would never part from him. 

The small, wiry girl's eyes darted around like a mouse surrounded by owls. But she seemed to see what was clear to the queen— that there was no way to escape the banquet hall. The lavish hall had become her court room. 

There was something unsettling about the girl. She exuded an uncomfortable electricity, if Serena didn't know any better she would say it was magic. It felt like her energy was reaching out and brushing the people around her, but to have that much power she would have to have harnessed a jinx, and the last of those had disappeared centuries ago. 

Serena spoke though Cain to disorient the servant. "You can trust me," Cain urged. Serena saturated every word with sincerity. He ducked his head with guilt. When her nephew was alone, he wallowed in regret. Serena never understood why he cared so much about people who'd never done anything for him, but other people found his penitence endearing. 

The girl's head snapped back to Cain sharply, her eyes narrowing. The hall was filled with whispers among the visiting dignitaries and hollow silence from the servants. Then the girl's lip curled in disgust. 

"Is his name a secret, Your Majesty?" she asked. There was a collective intake of breath at her casual tone. 

Serena laughed gleefully. "Delightful!" she exclaimed. "You're right, his name isn't a secret. Rather I was surprised by the familiar way you used it." 

The girl cocked her head and her hair, which in its present state was an indeterminable combination of muddy brown and dull red, slipped over her forehead and obscured her face. "I'm afraid I know very little about His Highness. I overstepped my bounds in uttering his prestigious name. Please do me the honor of granting a pardon." The girl bowed low, but she was lying. 

Serena smiled graciously. "I'm afraid not. Nephew." 

Cain covered the distance between him and the strange servant. 

"Where are you taking me?" the girl said so quietly only Cain could hear. 

"The dungeons," Serena replied, and the girl pleased her by finally looking afraid. The prisons beneath the palace were common knowledge, but from the way the girl glared at her hatefully showed that she had heard the stories of its inhabitants. Hundreds of young girls, half alive, waiting for the queen to carve their hearts from their chests and eat them.

*

Resa shivered uncontrollably as Cain led her down yet another filthy tunnel. They had climbed down several flights of stairs, and were low enough that the ground was slick with puddled water. Resa had tried speaking to Cain at first, but he had quickly handed her over to a soldier in a pristine white uniform with the twin silver snakes embroidered on the breast. He seemed almost bored as he hustled her deep underground. The only time he spoke was to warn her to avoid the sides of the tunnels. She had staggered off course out of exhaustion once, and skeletal hands had materialized out of a hole in the wall and clamped onto her arm. She barely had time to scream as they dragged her closer and she felt teeth sinking into the meat of her forearm. 

The guard had slammed the hilt of his knife into the prisoner's wrist with a sharp snap, and from that point forward Resa had stayed strictly in the center of the tunnel. After that the tunnels hadn't seemed so quiet. She could make out the faint moans and what she had assumed was underground drafts, she now realized were far away screams. How far did the prison stretch? She had heard myths about it reaching the southern mountains, but had always thought that was only an exaggeration. Now, she could almost believe it. 

They stopped suddenly in front of an open cell door. The soldier shoved her firmly into the small room and closed the door. 

"You're lucky," he said, "There's a torch only a few steps away so you'll probably be fed somewhat regularly." 

Resa wasn't about to thank him, but she didn't hate him either. She had been stupid three times, and had escaped twice. She leaned her back against the putrid wall and let herself be absorbed into the darkness.

When she woke up, the pain in her stomach was unbearable. Remembering the roll she had hidden from the kitchens, she retrieved it and pulled off small piece after small piece. 

She ate until she had a quarter left and then she explored her cell. It had just enough room to lie down and roll over. And she was flanked on both sides by thick bars. If she had to guess, she would say that she was in a newer part of the dungeons, where the cells were more carefully constructed. 

"Are you awake?" Came a tremulous voice from right beside her. Resa forced herself not to jump. 

After a long pause, she responded. "Yes."

"I saw that you had some bread, can I have some?" the woman pleaded. Resa felt incapacitated without her sight. When Resa didn't respond the voice became smaller. "It's alright, I understand." 

Resa folded her arms across her chest and settled back against the wall. She blinked quickly, and rubbed her fists against her eyes, but still couldn't make anything out in the inky blackness. 

"Don't worry," the woman said. "Your eyes get used to it eventually. When you can finally see you'll begin to wish you couldn't again." 

"How long does it take?" Resa asked. 

"Time isn't the same in here. We don't measure in days." 

Resa shifted uncomfortably. She wondered what would happen if she never saw the sky again. She couldn't think about it or she'd go insane. Cain would find her— or she would save herself. 

"How do you measure time then?" 

"In deaths," the woman uttered. Resa didn't have much to say to that. "What's your name?" the woman continued. 

"Why?" Resa asked. "Do you keep a list of the dead?" 

A voice from the other side of her cell spoke up. "I wouldn't be surprised if she did, that one. She went insane long before I got here and I've been here long enough to forget what life was like before." This woman shifted close and Resa thought she could hear her nails scraping against the floor of her cell. "Did she say you have food? If you share some with me I'll teach you how to survive here." Resa leaned away. There was something oily about the woman's voice. Resa didn't intend to trust her at all. 

She pulled the last piece of roll from her shirt and pushed it through the bars to the first woman. The woman entwined her fingers with Resa's briefly and gave her hand a gratefully squeeze. 

"My name is Resa," Resa whispered. 

"Aydrus," the woman whispered back. In the darkness, the feeling of Aydrus's fingers resting on hers was comforting. "She stole my heart," Aydrus confided. "You have to escape or she'll take yours too." 

Resa nodded slightly, squeezing Aydrus's hand back. That night she dreamed of her heart expanding until she had to carve it out of her chest herself.