The Quest

Chapter Thirty Eight - Dungeon

The sun was setting by the time they had made it to their destination. Tom had dozed off as the ship had rocked on its journey. "Up, puppy," the siren Tom had fought earlier kicked at him.

Tom glared at her as they freed him from the mast and forced to stand. His legs threatened to give out as he put his weight on them, but he stayed upright. The rest of the crew seemed to have the same issue from not moving most of the day. Tom wiggled his fingers, trying to get feeling in his hands. The rope was digging into his wrists.

More sirens boarded the ship as they lined the sailors up on the dock. They were removing what they felt would be useful off the ship. Tom had a bad feeling in his gut when they brought the weapons off board.

The head siren examined the weapons, stopping when she got to Tom's sword. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at each sailor. "Where is the wilkolak?" she asked, her voice cold and dangerous.

The crew stayed silent, not sure what would happen if they were to point towards Tom. The siren came closer to the sailors, scowling at each one as she grabbed one by the hair and looked into their eyes. She did this to each of them, each sailor sighing in relief as she passed them by. Tom didn't know what she was searching for, but it was unnerving to say the least. The head siren came back to Tom and pulled him from the line, shoving him towards another siren. "This one gets its own cell."

"Yes Matera," the siren bobbed her head. She grabbed Tom by the shirt and pulled him forward, leading him inland.

"Get that troll off the ship, he'll be in the kitchens," Matera turned towards the sirens still on the ship. Nyx could be heard resisting their efforts as they pulled at ropes that had been attached to him. "As for the rest of you," Matera turned back towards the men, a slow smile gracing her face. "Enjoy your last few days." She nodded towards some sirens standing to the side, then walked off. Following the route that they had taken Tom on, as cannons went off to sink the ship.

—--

Tom struggled the entire way to the dungeon cells. He called for Tess as loud as he could, hoping she'd be able to hear him when they were in the large hallways. The siren in charge of him didn't bother to stifle his cries, either. He knew the chances of Tess actually hearing him were slim to none, but he had to try.

She finally opened a set of metal bars and shoved him through the opening. He hit the cold ground hard, his head ringing as they slammed the door shut. "You could at least untie me," he shouted after the receding siren.

Tom sat up grumpy, as he surveyed his surroundings. There was a stone wall on three sides of him. The last wall being iron bars far enough apart he could possibly fit his arm through it. The ceiling and floor were stone as well. There didn't seem to be any way of escape. Tom looked for a way to cut the rope around his wrists. He had lost the feeling in his hands hours ago. In one corner, there was a sparse amount of straw for him to lie in. There didn't appear to be much else available to him.

He looked up when Destru and his crew were put in a cell across from him. Matera in front of them. Tom ran to the bars, shouting for Matera's attention. "Where is Tess!" he demanded.

Matera regarded him for a moment, then turned and left with the other sirens once the other cell was closed. Tom rammed himself into the bars, trying to break out and go after her. All his frustration hitting him at once as tears coursed down his face. "Come back here!" he roared, ignoring the pain he was causing himself. He didn't realize Destru was trying to get his attention.

"Wilkie!" Destru called, his voice echoing through the hallway.

Tom looked towards Destru, desperation in his eyes. He noticed the crew still had their hands bound behind them. He was breathing hard, his arm beginning to throb from when he had been slamming it into the bars.