As Penelope descended into the cellar, she was surprised to find it well-lit. Electric lanterns had been placed around the room, set atop the stacks of crates. It had been a strange kindness to give much-needed light to the people sitting in the centre of the room, considering they were prisoners. They were sitting in a circle, their backs together, and their heads hung down against their chests. It looked like they were asleep... Or worse...
Penelope fought the urge to run straight to them. She had to play it smart. From her spot at the top of the stairs, she scanned the room and did a quick count. There were four of them—Daevon, the camera guy, the sound guy, and... Liam. But there was no sign of Henry or Gunnar.
With the coast clear, Penelope finally allowed herself to run down the rest of the stairs. She rushed straight to Liam's side
"Liam! Liam!" she half-hissed-half-cried. She shook his shoulder, rattling the chains that were fastened around his arms. "Liam! Are you okay?"
Liam's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. His eyes brightened at the sight of her and he tried to say something, but his reply was muffled because of the silver strip of duct tape across his mouth. He groaned in frustration and flashed his eyes down—a silent request for her to take it off.
Penelope grimaced as she reached for the corner of the tape. She knew this was going to hurt... In one swift movement, she yanked it off.
Liam cried out as the tape took a layer of skin with it.
The other crew members had noticed her now, too. They were mumbling at her through their own strips of duct tape. Penelope would get to them soon enough, but first—
"Why the hell did you come back here?!" Liam snapped.
"Why wouldn't I?" Penelope hissed back, taking a closer look at the chains wrapped around his arms. They were woven through the chains of the others and each one of them had a padlock fastening them in place. She didn't know what she was going to do about the chains. Henry had brought tools to cut through them, but she had no idea where he was now... "I wasn't gonna just leave you here!"
But as she looked back at Liam, she saw that his expression had collapsed, tightening into a look of pain...
"What's wrong?"
The other crew members' mumbling grew louder like they were trying to scream through the duct tape. Liam didn't look like he was going to answer her question, so Penelope left his side to rip their tape off, too.
"Get us out of here!" the sound guy cried once his tape was gone. "What the hell are you waiting for?"
"Hurry!" the cameraman yelled, the words bursting out of him as soon as the tape was removed. "Before that psycho comes back!"
"I'm trying!" Penelope snapped back as she hurried around them, moving on to Daevon.
If the circumstances had been different, Penelope was sure there was some part of her that would've enjoyed ripping duct tape off of Daevon's precious picture-perfect face. As it was, she just reached down and took it off. The tape came off with a sharp ripping noise, but Daevon didn't even flinch. Penelope looked closer at him. His face was pale, his expression flat, his eyes fixed forward. He was at the front of the circle, facing toward the cage and he was staring into the void past the bars, unblinking like he was entranced. She reached down to touch his shoulder and shake him out of it—
"You should've forgotten about us," Liam said, pulling her attention back to him. He was watching her over his shoulder, still looking like he was in pain. "You should've saved yourselves."
Yourselves? Penelope frowned at him, wanting to argue, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. His gaze had shifted to the back corner of the room.
"Now it's too late," Liam said.
Penelope turned to follow his gaze.
She had been wrong.
There was someone else with them in the room.
She hadn't seen him at first because he had been crumpled up in the shadows of the corner. But she saw him now—Henry. He was face down on the dirt floor, perfectly still, with the back of his long hair matted with something dark. Something that glinted red in the faint light...
Penelope's whole body went numb.
Is... Is he dead?
"Oh no," she began to mutter, "Oh no, Henry, no, no, no, no..." Her heart began to race, blood pulsing in her ears. If Henry had been attacked, then—
"Hello, Penelope."
Penelope whipped around.
Gunnar was now slowly descending the stairs. He had a bloodied axe resting across his shoulders.
"What... What the hell did you do?" she whispered, her eyes going wide.
"Oh, don't worry, I only used the back of the axe," Gunnar said, picking it up off his shoulders. As he had said, the blood was concentrated on the blunt edge of the blade. "He's still alive." He walked over to where Henry lay and nudged him with his foot. Henry didn't move. "I think..."
Something hot flooded Penelope's veins. She stood up, balling her hands into fists at her side. "Let them go," she said, glaring at him. With her plan fresh in her mind, she was feeling a lot braver.
"Why should I?" Gunnar glared back. "You're the one that broke our agreement."
Penelope was taken aback. "Me? You're the one that can't be trusted."
"I gave you my word," Gunnar said, his voice going low like he was offended by the implication that his word didn't count for anything. He scoffed. "But you just couldn't wait, could you?"
"I couldn't trust you to hold up your end of the bargain—"
"Why wouldn't I?" Gunnar sighed and then, to Penelope's surprise, his face crumpled up. He looked genuinely wounded. "We had an agreement, Penelope. Why couldn't you just stick to our fucking agreement?!" He closed his eyes and went still as if he was pulling himself together. "If you had, we wouldn't be here, like this..." He kicked Henry again, harder this time. Henry still didn't move.
Penelope's brows folded together. This isn't making any sense... "B-But, you were never going to..." she sputtered, confused. Why was Gunnar so upset? "You weren't..."
"What, you think I'd prefer to do this?" Gunnar challenged, brandishing his axe at her before sweeping it down to hover over Henry's already bloodied head. "Do you think this is what I enjoy?"
His words triggered a memory for Penelope. Something he had said in this very cellar when he didn't know she was watching. Something he had said to The Raven...
You know I don't want to do this.
Gunnar left Henry where he lay and began to advance towards the circle, axe in hand. His watery blue eyes were as cold and as sharp as ice.
If he really didn't want to do this...
"Y-You don't have to!" Penelope shouted, holding up her hands. She stepped back from Daevon, from the circle, closer to the cage. "We can still do this the right way. You can let them all go and I'll go back to playing along—"
"It's too late for that," Gunnar grumbled. He stopped to run his hand through his silver-white hair. There seemed to be a frenzy inside of him, as he kept doing it over and over again, tearing at his hair. "It's too goddamn late. I can't trust you anymore. I can't trust any of you. And I can't let you go out and spread the word of what The Raven really is. Because if word gets out, someone will come and try and take it, and then we're all screwed..."
"Then let it go!" Penelope offered. "Set it free! Then it's no one's problem!"
Gunnar went still, his one hand still half tangled in his white hair. Then his face began to twitch and he began to shudder, just a little at first, before it became a full-blown shake as he roared with laughter. He laughed and laughed as Penelope stared at him with wide eyes.
Slowly he regained his composure, though the odd chuckle still shook through him. "It's not that simple," he said. "Like I said, this town—this whole area—relies on The Raven. If it goes free, this whole place will collapse."
Shivers crawled up Penelope's spine. "What?"
"Without making sure The Raven is watching over us," Gunnar explained, "something terrible will happen to Ridgestone."
"Says who?" Liam snapped.
Gunnar shrugged, not bothered by Liam's disbelief. "It's happened before."
"When?" Penelope asked. She didn't remember reading about any disaster in the town's history when she had gone to research The Raven at the tourist centre.
"When the mill closed," Gunnar explained. "Sure, it's not some dramatic natural disaster like an earthquake or landslide, but losing the mill—and all those jobs, everyone's jobs—was just as devastating to this town. You don't know what it did to us."
Penelope could only stare. She had heard of the mill's closure, and how it affected the town. It had nearly ruined them. That's why they clung so closely to their tourism, to their fairytale version of The Raven.
"You blame The Raven for that?" Liam scoffed. "That's just bad luck."
Gunnar laughed again. "That's exactly what the company rep said to my dad. It's just a stroke of bad luck," he mimicked with a snooty accent. "But do you remember what else that happened that year? The year the mill closed down for good?"
He looked between them, like an expectant teacher, waiting for them to answer. When they didn't, Gunnar focussed on Liam. "Surely you remember," he said. "You were born here."
"Sure," Liam muttered, glaring at Gunnar. "But I hadn't been born yet."
"Of course, of course," Gunnar said with another laugh. "How silly of me..."
A raspy voice came from the corner.
"T-the mayor died..."
Their heads all turned, to where Henry had been laying in a heap. Not anymore. He was awake—alive—though he seemed to be struggling to push himself up onto his elbows. His face was streaked with red.
"The mayor d-died," Henry repeated, his voice wavering from the effort of holding himself up. "Y-Your uncle."
Gunnar smiled like Henry was an attentive little pupil. "That's right! My uncle," he said, turning back to Penelope. "My uncle, the mayor, died. Do you know why?"
Penelope could only shake her head.
"Because he thought he knew better," Gunnar said, his eyes darkening. "He thought he knew better than hundreds—maybe thousands—of years of family tradition. He didn't like that, as the eldest son, he was expected to devote his life to keeping The Raven safe. And so, he let it go. Just opened the cage door and—poof! Off it went.
"But, as thanks for all the years of captivity, it cursed us as it left."
Gunnar sighed. He dropped the axe to the ground and leaned on it as if it were a cane. "My dad was furious when he found out," he continued. "He had grown up with the same stories of The Raven, the stories about the importance of protecting it so that it, in turn, will protect us. The stories warned us what would happen if we let it go. My dad believed them. My uncle, however, did not.
"He thought the stories were bullshit, legends brought over from the old country like we had brought The Raven to watch over our new home. He didn't think it was some kind of god, like my grandfather did. He thought it was just a freak of nature.
"But he was wrong."
Gunnar went quiet for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. Haunted. "The effect wasn't immediate," he said. "It never is. Its power is subtle, slow. It started with rumours, rumours that the company was thinking of closing the mill because it was no longer profitable. But that couldn't be possible. Why would it close? Sure, all the other mills around us had shuttered but ours kept on because business was booming! The town was just that lucky! Well, with The Raven gone, our luck had run out.
"And so the mill closed. And the town..." Gunnar gave another sigh, but it was deep and shuddering this time. He leaned back, angling himself so he could look at Henry. "Do you remember what the town was like, afterwards?"
Henry was silent. He had laid back down, though his face was turned out now, watching us.
"I bet you do," Gunnar said, with a shrug. "Everyone struggled. It was horrible. People lost their jobs, then their homes, then their families. People moved away. People started drinking. People died... Mostly heart attacks from the stress, but a few committed suicide. And there was even one guy who killed his whole family because he thought that it was better for them to die than to suffer through losing everything." He spat on the ground. "That's when my uncle finally realised what he had done, and what he would have to do to make it right."
Penelope swallowed. A cold, sinking feeling had taken hold of her stomach.
"There's only one thing that will appease The Raven," Gunnar said, almost casually. "A sacrifice."
Everyone stayed quiet. They had no response to that.
"And so my uncle had to sacrifice himself to bring it back to its cage," Gunnar continued. "And then the Raven returned to us. Of course, the story we told the town was that he died in some horrible accident." He nodded out in the general direction of the house that stood empty above ground. "And with the town having already lost so much—and a little help from our friend—they were happy to select my father as the new mayor. And, just like that, I was next in line. So, no, I can't just let it go. That's not how it works."
"How does it work?" Penelope asked.
"How it works," Gunnar snapped, "is that I keep it happy and the town gets what it needs, what I ask it for. New jobs. New industry. A successful festival. Health and happiness and prosperity as far as the knut trees grow. A little sacrifice here and there and everything goes our way." He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "How lucky is that?"
A sacrifice? Penelope chanced a look over her shoulders, to the impenetrable darkness beyond the cage bars. She thought of Xander, disappearing into that darkness... Is that what Xander was?
"Actually," he said, picking up his axe and swinging it up to rest on his shoulders again. "That gives me an idea." His smile widened as he turned to look at Penelope.
As Gunnar's eyes met hers, she tried her best to keep her expression flat and ungiving. She knew where this was going. She tried to keep her calm by reminding herself that she wasn't beaten yet. She still had options.
She still had her plan.
"Maybe I don't need to keep all of them here," Gunnar continued like he was talking about a simple business deal. "Maybe I just need something to smooth this all over. Something to make sure that they—" he nodded towards the others, "—keep their mouths shut and that, well, everything goes our way."
Penelope swallowed hard. He didn't have to say it. She understood well enough.
"If you do what needs to be done," Gunnar said, staring hard at her. "Then I'll do as you ask—I'll let them all go."
Penelope just stood there as Gunnar stepped closer, inspecting her face, watching for a sign of weakness.
"Don't you dare touch her," Liam snapped.
Gunnar stopped to look down at him. His cold eyes turned hard. "Shut your mouth. I don't need The Raven's help to crack your skull open."
Liam struggled against his chains like he wanted nothing more than to leap up to go another round with Gunnar. Gunnar dropped the axe from his shoulders—
Penelope's thoughts raced as she watched the axe's blade raise up over Liam's head. Before she knew what she was doing, she was opening her mouth.
"I'll do it!"
Gunnar looked away from Liam, loosening his grip on the axe. He dropped it back down to the ground.
"Penelope, no!" Liam cried.
Penelope ignored him, focusing only on Gunnar. "I'll do whatever you need me to do," she said, "if you just let them go."
"I thought you might," Gunnar said. He grinned at her though there was a strange sadness in his eyes.
"PENELOPE, STOP!" Liam shouted.
But Penelope didn't dare look at Liam. She was sure she'd break if she did. Instead, she stared Gunnar down. "You let them go first."
Gunnar offered her his hand. "Deal."
She took it. He had a firm, politician's grip and gave her two perfunctory shakes before letting go, their deal sealed.
Despite feeling like she had just agreed to sell her soul, Penelope felt a strange calm. She had her plan. She wasn't going to let herself be swallowed up like Xander.
Gunnar swung his axe back onto his shoulders and began to dig through his pockets with his one free hand. He pulled out a single silver key and tossed it at Penelope. She caught it.
"Go on now," Gunnar said, sweeping his free hand towards the circle like he was inviting her to sit down for tea. "Free your friends."
Keeping her eye on him, she inched back to the circle. She first unlocked the cameraman and sound guy, who scrambled out of their chains and ran for the stairs, not bothering to look back. Next was Daevon, who was still too dazed to understand what was going on. As Penelope pulled the chains off of him, he looked at her like he only just realized she was there.
"Penelope," he mumbled. "What a nice surprise..."
"I'm sure," Penelope muttered back, pulling him to his feet. She turned him around and gave him a push towards the back. He staggered towards the stairs, looking a bit like a baby deer.
Liam was last. That had been on purpose—she had something she needed to say to him. But as she got close to unlocking his restraints, Liam spoke first.
"What the hell are you doing, Penelope?" he whispered sharply. "You think I'm just going to stand by and allow you to get fed to that thing like Xander?"
"You aren't going to 'allow' me to do anything," he whispered back. "You're going to trust me to do the right thing."
"The right thing?" he snarled. "Are you effing crazy?! Come on—the whole 'noble martyr' thing is so effing tired."
"I'm no martyr," she said, as the lock popped open. His chains loosened. He was free. "Please, let me do this."
Liam glared at her. He would not.
Penelope sighed. She shot a glance at Gunnar, who was half-listening with a bemused expression. She wished there was some way to make Liam understand. She couldn't exactly come right out and say it.
Instead, she would have to settle for distraction. "Don't worry about me. Go help Henry. I don't think he'll make it up the stairs on his own."
Liam twitched at the mention of Henry. He shot a glance at his uncle.
Henry was still on the floor and, as she had said, he was struggling to pull himself up. Liam looked back—between Penelope and Gunnar—before shedding the chains and rushing over to Henry's side. He pulled his uncle's arm over his shoulders and began to lift him.
"If you hurt her..." Liam warned Gunnar as he pulled Henry to his feet.
"I'll be fine," Penelope said. She stared hard at him, hoping that he could see the true meaning in her eyes.
Liam stared back, his brow folding together. He saw something there, but he wasn't sure what it meant. He just looked like he didn't like it. But he had no choice but to go. Henry was sagging hard on his shoulders and it was clear that his uncle would need medical attention soon. Liam heaved him up again and then pulled him towards the stairs, taking each one slow.
Gunnar was patient, waiting until Henry and Liam were out of sight before turning back to Penelope. "I've held up my end of the deal," Gunnar said. "Now it's your turn." He stepped forward and took hold of her arm, twisting her around to face the cage.
Like before, the darkness beyond the bars was impenetrable, even with the extra lanterns. It was like a flat, black curtain was hung across the space, though Penelope could feel the darkness bristle and breathe.
"I'll give you a hero's death," Gunnar said as he walked her towards the cage. "I'll tell everyone how brave you were. You, Henry, and Liam fled the festival because you managed to get a call from Daevon. You used it to find them. It was too late for Xander," he clucked his tongue like it was just a sad fact, "and Henry got injured, but you were able to lead the others to safety. Too bad you fell into the river on the way back and were washed away..."
Penelope's throat tightened as she imagined her father receiving the news. She tried to steady herself with the knowledge that there was another way out, but still, her hands trembled more and more with each step she took towards the cage. She balled them into fists to keep them from shaking.
"We won't find your body, but we'll never forget you," Gunnar continued. "Maybe I'll even erect a statue of you. At least a plaque or something."
He had stopped now, just a few inches from the cage door. "Don't worry," he said. "As far as I can tell, the end is peaceful. One single step and then... Nothingness. Simple nothingness."
Gunnar reached around her to unlatch the lock. The door creaked open, the darkness inside sprawling out.
He nudged her forward. "Don't be afraid."
Penelope looked over her shoulder at him. "It's not The Raven I'm afraid of."
Gunnar frowned at her... Then his eyes went wide as she lunged at him.
She shoved him with all her strength, enough to push him to the ground. Then she took the door of the cage and flung it open wide.
"GO!" she commanded the darkness.
Nothing happened. The dark shape beyond the bars didn't move an inch.
"What are you doing?" she screamed into the cage. "You need to go! This is your chance! This is me helping you! GO! GO! GO!"
But it didn't.
From behind, she heard Gunnar laugh. She turned just as regained his footing, no worse for wear. "You really thought it'd be that simple?" he said with a chuckle.
"No—I—" Penelope sputtered, backing away from him as he advanced on her. Her back hit the bars of the cage,
"And you're not afraid of the Raven?" he asked as his hand shot out, wrapping around her neck. He laughed again. "You should be."
And then he threw her into the cage.