Jail Break

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All I could hear were footsteps pattering to the door, and then light flooded the room, and Charlotte was standing by the door with her hand on the switch, blue eyes round with astonishment,

“You think she killed her own daughter?”

Blinking furiously against the sudden brightness, I nodded, “I’ve been having dreams, or…genetic memories, Erik called them. In them, I'm Amora. It's stuff that happened to her, I guess. I didn’t understand why my brain seemed to get stuck on this one dream, a dream about Amora dying in battle. Then it was like that dream shorted out and was replaced by something different, she disobeyed an order from her mother. It's like something was blocking that dream from my memory,” I caught myself chewing my thumbnail anxiously and yanked it away from my mouth, “it wasn’t until now that I had the execution dream. Charlotte, what kind of person does that? Killing your own daughter….”

“That’s disgusting,” Charlotte frowned, “you think she’d do something like that to you?”

“Are you kidding?” My voice was reaching heights it had never reached before, I was starting to sound hysterical, “I’m not even her real daughter! I’m just some magical, freakish copy of her! If she killed her real daughter, you think she’d pause before chopping my head off?” Automatically my hands found their way to my throat, shielding it from imaginary attacks.

Charlotte pressed one finger to her lips. Obviously I was getting too loud. I shut my eyes and took a deep calming breath, at least, I told myself it was calming.

“Okay,” Charlotte walked over to the armoire and tugged one of the doors open, “let’s go. Grab a pillow case and load it up with clothes and whatever else you’ll need.”

I bolted out of bed, on my feet and heading for the dresser drawers when something stopped me in my tracks, “Loki! Charlotte, we can’t just leave him here! The only reason he got thrown in the dungeons is because of me! They’re going to execute him!”

Charlotte glared at me, “Damn it, Megan! Now we not only have to sneak out without being seen, you want us to break a prisoner out of the dungeon?”

“I can’t leave him there.” I tugged the pillow case off my pillow and began shoving underwear and socks inside, then whatever clothes I grabbed went into the bag too. Then to the bathroom for my tooth brush and hair brush. When I reemerged Charlotte was sitting on the bed with a bulging pillow case, chin in her hands.

“Well?” I said.

“I’m thinking,” Charlotte murmured, “I have no idea how to break someone out of a dungeon.”

“I don’t even know where the dungeons are,” I groaned, “this is impossible.”

“They’re just past the training room,” Charlotte punched her over stuffed bag with one fist, looking frustrated, “but don’t ask me how to break him out. They have a guard down there all the time.”

“How do you know that?”  

“Davin told me,” Charlotte looked unhappy, “though I doubt he thought I’d be breaking anyone out with the information.”

I hesitated, “Look, I’m sorry…you don’t have to go with me. You could stay here with him…” Even the thought of doing this on my own made my stomach drop, but Charlotte was already shaking her head.

“You need me,” she said firmly.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, “thanks for choosing me…”

We both let the rest of the sentence hang in the air unspoken. Instead of him. Charlotte was leaving Davin behind permanently to go with me.

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