They'll tell you I'm insane
But I've got a blank space baby
And I'll write your name
Blank Space—Taylor Swift
The Folcharts have been working almost nonstop for two weeks when Firefox opens the chamber door, his cheeks flushed and his breaths little more than gasps. "You worked with Roxane, didn't you," he checks, looking relieved when Julianne nods. "What do you know about giving birth?"
"Uh, I've assisted with it before and I've got a son of my own."
"Good, you're to come with me to the Adderhead's chambers. His wife is in labor and the midwife has fallen ill." Julianne flounders for a moment before instinct kicks in, moving swiftly past Firefox and down the halls to the more well-traveled paths of the castle. "This way."
They're basically running by the time they make it to the Adderhead's chambers, his young wife laid out in the bed with tears streaming down her cheeks. Julianne knows all too well how awful giving birth is without an epidural, the contractions alone enough to make you regret every decision that led you to this point.
"Miss Folchart," greets the Barn Owl. He's kneeling on the bed with his hands under the Princess' nightgown, face drawn. "You're just in time. This little one is nearly ready to join us."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Talk her through this. You know how it works." She nods and goes to the woman's bedside, sitting next to her and dabbing the sweat off her face with a cool rag. The girl is far too young to be going through this, barely fifteen and already saddled with the worst husband imaginable. This kid should still be daydreaming and picking flowers, goddammit.
"I know this hurts, sweetheart, but you'll get through it," Julianne promises. "What's your name?"
"Is-Isabella," she grits out past clenched teeth. She lets out a pained groan as a contraction works its way through her, squeezing Julianne's free hand with all the strength she has. Julianne squeezes back, a firm but gentle hold to let Isabella know she isn't going anywhere. "It hurts!"
"Trust me, I know all about it. What do you want to name your baby?" Isabella doesn't answer, grinding her teeth through the pain. "My son is named Dustin, but everyone calls him Dee. He's an adorable little pain in the neck and it's a good thing I love him sometimes." Isabella lets out a choked laugh and Julianne grins in response.
"I want to name him Luca, after my father."
"That's a beautiful name, Isabella. I have to warn you, the first year is the absolute worst, you'll barely get any sleep and your boobs will hurt like crazy after nursing, but it's all worth it when your baby looks up at you and says mama for the first time."
"What…." Another contraction knocks the breath out of her, but Isabella powers through it. "What was your son's first word?" Julianne snorts at the memory, brushing some of Isabella's hair off her face with a gentle stroke of her fingers.
"It was toast if you can believe it. My nephew would say it over and over again whenever he held Dustin and none of us were surprised when Dee yelled it out clear as day one afternoon. Now whenever he says it, we know he's really asking for my nephew to come play with him."
"Do you think my baby will be as adorable?"
"All babies are adorable. Don't get me wrong, they come out looking really weird at first, all red and wrinkly, but they grow out of it." The Barn Owl snorts out a laugh and she winks at him over her shoulder. He's still got his hands under the nightgown and after another contraction he gives a sharp nod. "Alright, hon, looks like it's time for the fun part."
"Oh, wonderful, more fun." Isabella is smiling, though, relieved that this should be over with soon. "Should I push?"
"Yep." She nods and squeezes Julianne's hand again as she pushes. The labor really doesn't take long for it to be Isabella's first, an hour or two at the most with some colorful swears that are cut off by the high wailing of a newborn. Julianne helps Isabella to sit up against a pile of pillows, holding her as the Barn Owl washes and checks the infant for any defects.
"Is it a boy? Is he okay?" The Barn Owl comes over to them with a kind smile, depositing the baby in Isabella's arms. It's swaddled in a thin blanket, mouth opened wide in an impressive yawn before its eyes flutter open.
"Your son is perfectly healthy, Highness," he says. Isabella lets out a wet laugh, tears gathering in her eyes as she stares down at her son. "Julianne, why don't you show our princess how to nurse while I deliver the good news?" Julianne nods and sets to work, just as adept at this as she is to stitching pages. Luca and Isabella are fast asleep by the time the Adderhead comes inside, breathing hard as he crosses the space. Julianne doesn't move off the bed at first, not until he gives her the stink eye and she realizes he'd smack her whether or not it meant waking up his son.
"She named him Luca," she says, standing.
"A fine name," the Adderhead nods. "And a fine boy." Julianne excuses herself, letting Firefox guide her back to the Old Chamber where a basin of warm water and fresh rags are waiting for her. She washes quickly once Firefox takes his leave, then she curls up in the bed next to Mo and falls asleep with a satisfied smile curling her lips upwards.
It's two weeks after the birth of Luca that the Adderhead pays a visit to the Old Chamber, his feet dragging him into the room like they're far too tired to do much else. The Prince looks even worse than he had that moonless night four weeks ago, the bags under his eyes so dark and bruised that they nearly look like someone had punched him.
"What are you doing here," Mo asks as the Adderhead steps up to the worktable. Mo's got a paper knife clutched in his hand, but the Adderhead doesn't seem to take any notice of it. His bloodshot eyes are fixed solely on the book, five hundred blank pages that will hold immortality inside them.
"How much longer," the Adderhead demands in a hoarse voice. "My son cries all night like he can feel the White Women coming closer. They want to fetch him away, too, him and me at the same time. Folk say they're particularly hungry on stormy nights." As though to punctuate this, a loud clap of thunder shakes some soot loose from the ceiling.
"The book will be finished by sunrise tomorrow, as agreed." Mo sets the knife aside as though he doesn't quite trust himself not to bury the thing in the Adderhead's neck. "It would have been ready sooner if the leather hadn't been full of tears and holes."
"Yes, yes, Taddeo's informed me of your every complaint. If he had his way about it, you'd spend the rest of your life in this room, rebinding all my books." Mo looks ready to protest and the girls shoot upright in the bed, but the Adderhead waves off the panic. "I'm going to let you all go—your family and those worthless strolling players that were brought here with you. They can all go once I have the book!"
"As I said, it will be ready by sunrise. Do you swear to me on your son's life that you'll let us go at once?" The Adder nods, his fat fingers worrying at the signet ring he wears.
"Yes, I swear on whomever and whatever you like! Mortola told me about those three words your precious daughters so cunningly forgot to mention, but I don't need to worry about that. I'll write my name in the book and then hide it away where no one can find it." He fidgets a moment longer with his ring and then drops his gaze to where Mo is kneading his chest. "That's where Mortola wounded you, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Show me," he whispers with an avid interest. "My master-at-arms took apart Mortola's magic weapon so thoroughly that no one could put it back together again. I had the fool hanged for that." Mo hesitates and casts a nervous glance at where the girls are still sitting on the bed, then he opens his shirt. "So close to the heart! You must indeed know how to cheat death." He presses a hand against Mo's chest, so close to the wound that Julianne wants to slap that hand away lest he give Mo an infection.
"Death and I are good friends these days it seems." The Adderhead shudders out a breath, then turns abruptly and strides over to the door. He's got two servants waiting for him in the hallway, each holding a silver candelabra to light the way.
"I'll have you fetched soon after sunrise, you and the book," the Adderhead says over his shoulder, then turns his gaze to the girls. "I want you in the banquet hall, Songbird. I should like a song to drown out this weather." Then, to the servants, he yells," Wake the cooks, the maids, and the Piper! I want to eat and listen to a few songs so that I don't have to hear my child crying!"
Julianne slides to her feet, forgoing her ruined shoes as she follows the servants through the castle and into the banquet hall with its silver columns and grand tapestries. She hates this room most of all, but she hates watching the Adderhead eat even more. She's standing by the fireplace when the Piper joins her with his lute, hair mussed from sleep and silver nose crooked on his face. He's doing his best to compose himself for a master that barely takes any notice of him. While the Adderhead slurps down a cup of wine, the two minstrels decide on a song. She figures it might as well be one this asshole will have stuck in his head for a month.
"What are the two of you waiting for," the Adderhead growls without turning in his chair. "Start playing or I'll have your heads!" The Piper wastes no time, strumming out the rhythm that Julianne had taught him on a night when Jacopo had insisted that they both sing for him. It had been storming back then, too, and the little boy had been so scared that he lashed out at everyone.
"When a humble bard graced a ride along with Geralt of Rivia along came this song," Julianne sings. "When the White Wolf fought a silver tongued devil his army of elves at his hooves did they revel. They came after me with masterful deceit, broke down my lute and they kicked in my teeth while the devil's horns minced our tender meat. And so cried the Witcher he can't be bleat! Toss a coin to your Witcher oh, valley of plenty! Oh, valley of plenty, oh! Toss a coin to your Witcher oh, valley of plenty!"
"At the edge of the world, fight the mighty horde that bashes and breaks you and bring you the morn," Piper picks up. "He thrust every elf far back on the shelf high up on the mountain from whence it came. He wiped out your pest, got kicked in his chest. He's a friend of humanity, so give him the rest! That's my epic tale! Our champion prevailed, defeated the villain now pour him some ale! Toss a coin to your Witcher oh, valley of plenty! Oh, valley of plenty, oh! Toss a coin to your Witcher, a friend of humanity!"
"Toss a coin to your Witcher oh, valley of plenty," they belt out together, voices harmonizing nicely. If Piper weren't such a pompous dick, they could make a lot of money by joining forces. "Oh, valley of plenty! Toss a coin to your Witcher, friend of humanity!"
They continue singing until the night is nearly over, the storm finally easing enough to allow red-tinged sunlight to pass through the clouds. Julianne has long since given up the pretense of standing, sitting with her back pressed against a pile of wood, the Piper kneeling beside her.
"Enough," the Adderhead finally says, putting up his hand. She's pretty sure he hadn't been paying much attention anyway, she'd been singing The Song That Never Ends for fifteen minutes straight. "Piper, go and fetch the Bluejay and my book." Julianne stands and stumbles after him, but the Adderhead grabs her wrist and yanks her to a stop. "You'll be staying where I can see you in case your father tries anything."
"I'm really getting tired of being a bartering chip," she grumbles. The Adderhead stands and yanks her wrist to make her follow him down the hall to a set of heavy doors. Firefox pushes the doors open, moving to close them again once the Adderhead and Julianne are inside. "Oh, holy shit." The throne room is entirely too familiar for her liking, red-washed walls and silver columns, a marble statue made so much better than the one Capricorn had commissioned. The Adderhead seats himself on his silver throne, made to look like a nest of vipers with two heads reared up for him to rest his arms on.
"What," Firefox asks, raising a brow.
"Capricorn's throne room was exactly like this except it was a cheaper version." She eyes the statue, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Statue was just as creepy, though."
"Yeah, Capricorn was always like that." She sighs and drops down to the cold stones, propping her chin on her palms and scowling at the doors. Members of the Adderhead's court flock into the room, each bowing and simpering to their lord despite the way his eyes gaze off into the middle distance. He's lost in thoughts of immortality, all of that wrapped up in the haze of exhaustion that accompanies newborns. Despite his exhaustion, he's been dressed in black silk with a cape of silvery-white heron feathers, no one daring to inform him of the red wine seeping into one sleeve.
It's ten minutes before Mo and Meggie join them in the throne room, both looking sick as the déjà vu rolls over them in a nauseous wave. Is Mo thinking of the church, too? How they'd been forced to kneel before Capricorn and learn that Meggie would soon be joining them? Could he picture golden coins falling from thin air along with a green lizard and the boy Meggie would fall in love with just two years later?
"You've finally finished," the Adderhead says, voice nearly drowning out the crying of his son and the rain pelting against the glazed glass windows. "You really must be in a hurry to see your wife again. I've been told she asks about you everyday. That's love, I expect." He makes a sign with his hand and the Piper steps closer to Mo, holding out a hand for the book. Mo hesitates before stiffly presenting it, letting Piper snatch it out of his grasp and bring it to the Adderhead before stationing himself right next to the throne like the most important peacock in the hall.
"A stork more like," Julianne murmurs to herself, eyeing Piper studiously. Despite the long night they'd passed in the banquet hall, Piper stood up stiff and tall, long legs supporting him without any effort or shake to them. Julianne's a bit jealous if she's being honest.
"It's beautiful." The Adderhead caresses one crisp, white page, his hand and fingers clean of any grease that had lingered after his lengthy meal. "Robber or not, he knows something about book-binding, don't you agree, Firefox?"
"There are men of many trades among the robbers," Firefox replies. "Why not an accursed bookbinder, too?" He's sneering over at Piper rather than at Mo, his sneer transforming into a scowl when Piper raises his head the slightest bit so the faint sunlight glints off his silver nose.
"Very true. Did you all hear that?" The Adderhead glances to his retinue, giving them all a chance to garner favor. "It seems that my herald still thinks I'd have let a couple of girls trick me. Yes, he believes I'm a credulous fool by comparison with his old master. But Capricorn is dead, isn't that right?"
Firefox's cheeks darken and his eyes are like chips of ice when he turns his gaze on the Adderhead. He opens his mouth with a protest on his tongue, but the Adderhead silences him with a simple gesture and speaks again.
"Do not argue with me! I won't bother lying, I'm a spiteful man by nature, so I've devised a way to find out which of the two of us is right." He nods to the librarian, Taddeo eagerly approaching him with a pen and ink. "It's perfectly simple, Firefox! You will be the first man to write his name in this book! Taddeo has assured me that the letters can be removed again with a scraper that Balbulus once designed specifically for that purpose, leaving no trace behind."
"My Lord," he tries, but flounders when the Adderhead gives him a scathing smile.
"You will write your name in this book and our beloved guest will run you through with a sword and we'll see if you're still alive afterwards. A fabulous idea, I think." The dark color fades out of Firefox's cheeks until he looks as pale as the White Women Dustfinger had whispered about in the crypt beneath a church. There's fear in his eyes and it softens him until he's just a man barely older than Julianne.
"My Lord, please—"
"No excuses, I know you can write your name!" The Adderhead opens the book again, leafing through the blank pages until he finds a suitable one near the back. "Why do you look so frightened? It's just a game." Julianne grinds her teeth, fighting back her meager breakfast. Capricorn had thought he was playing a game when he ordered Meggie to read out the Shadow. What would the Adderhead do if Julianne brought that up?
Firefox glances around, looking for anyone that will speak up and save him from this. He looks like a cornered animal ready to flee and unable to do so, trapped by a large cat with sharp claws and nothing to defend himself with. He's pale as parchment when one of the guards draws their sword, the sound of metal sliding against wood far too loud in the sudden quiet.
"Sign your name, Firefox. The one your mother gave you." The Adderhead presses a sharpened quill into Firefox's hand and the herald stares at it like he's never seen such a thing before. Like a little boy had stared at impossible confetti scattered over a blue-black jungle carpet. With a shaking hand, he dips the quill in the pot of ink and signs his name on a blank page. "Excellent!"
Unmask, unmask, she thinks with the threat of hysteria winding around her like thorns. And the Red Death held sway over all. She shakes her head sharply, trying to toss the uncomfortable thoughts right out of her head.
The Adderhead motions one of the servants forward, plucking a small cake off the silver platter and popping it into his mouth, honey dripping from his fingers. He looks far too pleased with himself, delighted with the existential dread seeping out of his herald. "What are you waiting for, Firefox? Test your luck." Firefox's gaze is fixed on the Piper and the book wrapped up in the minstrel's arms, pressed against a thin chest so tightly that Julianne is surprised when the leather-covered corners don't pierce cloth and flesh. She stands and moves slowly, battling her rising panic to wrap her fingers around Firefox's wrist.
"Don't do this," she implores, voice hoarse. "He's one of your best soldiers, don't kill him like this."
"If the book works, then he won't be killed." She squeezes tighter when Firefox tries to go down the steps to the waiting guard, forcing him to stay slightly behind her.
"We all know what else you'd write in that book once you've proved your point. You remember, don't you? Those three magic words." The room goes impossibly still, all eyes on Julianne and the Adderhead. "Haven't you killed enough people? Haven't you made your fucking point?"
"Basta, restrain Julianne until this is done." Basta starts forward, but he's not expecting her to steal Firefox's sword, holding it even with Basta's throat. His fingers twitch near his knife's hilt, but there's a steely glint in her eyes and he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Restrain her!"
"You promised I could take people with me when I finished the book," Mo yells over the ruckus, taking a step forward. The Adderhead's lizard-like gaze slides over to him, narrowing in a rage that brings color back to his cheeks. "I finished the damn book and I want Firefox to be included with the group leaving here!"
"Don't push your luck, Bluejay."
"None of your men will be able to stop my daughter from destroying the White Book. I can. Only me." The Adderhead closes his hand into a fist, knuckles white and prominent. "Take his name out of that book or I don't even try." The Adderhead's quiet for a long moment, caught in a battle of wills that Mo doesn't back down from. Eventually he gives a stilted nod that has his men standing down.
"Take his name out of the book, Taddeo." Taddeo looks flabbergasted and Piper looks downright miffed, but he hands the book to the librarian all the same. The work is quick and relatively simple, Firefox's name wiped clean from the page until not even a smudge of ink remains. "I still need to test that this book works. Who would you have take Firefox's place?"
"I could think of a couple people," Meggie grumbles under her breath, eyeballing Basta and Mortola. The Adderhead wipes the honey from his free hand and dusts crumbs off his doublet and then gives the room a cruel smile.
"Perhaps I've caught the right man after all," he says, eyes trained on Mo. "The Bluejay is said to be a sly fox and you are most certainly that." Hsi gaze cuts to Julianne, no doubt hating the way she doesn't back down or bow her head in submission. "Your kits are just as sly, aren't they? Brave little things with no self-preservation to speak of. They come by it honestly at any rate." His eyes find Mo again, standing so bravely amongst these soldiers who would love to run him through. "Librarian, give that book and a quill."
"What are you doing?"
"I've still got a point to prove." He takes the book out of Taddeo's hands and then the quill, holding it out to a nearby soldier. This one has grown long in the tooth, hair virtually gone and hands knotted with arthritis. "Write your name." The soldier does so, looking fearlessly at Firefox the whole while. The Adderhead moves much faster than he should be able to, driving a thin dagger into the old man's heart.
"No!" Julianne tries to start forward even if it's too late, but it's Firefox's turn to pull her back. The soldier stares down in shock as the Adderhead pulls the dagger out, using the old man's sleeve to wipe the blood off of it. The blade catches in the weak sunlight, bright as rubies. And travellers, now, within that valley, through the red-litten windows see vast forms that move fantastically to a discordant melody.
"Piper, clear out my hall. The only people allowed to stay are yourself, my prisoners, ten soldiers, the librarian, and Firefox." Piper nods sharply, ushering all the extra people out until the hall seems too quiet, too empty with the rain pinging against the glass.
"What about us," Mo calls out. "My daughters and I have fulfilled our part of the bargain, so fetch the other prisoners from your dungeon and let us go."
"Of course, Bluejay. I'm a man of my word. I've already sent men to the dungeon, but it's a long way from there to the gate, so give me the pleasure of your company a while longer. Believe me when I say that we shall provide you with entertainment." He turns his gaze on the old soldier at his elbow, raising his brows. "How do you feel, Talion?"
"Feel," Talion asks, voice hoarse as he presses a hand to his chest. Blood has stained his tunic, pumping out sluggishly before stopping altogether. "I feel…. It hurts, but I'm not dead." He gazes up at his master with wide-eyed wonder, hand rubbing over his heart.
"Wonderful. Great to know I wasn't duped after all! Now, Taddeo, the three words!" He passes the book back to the librarian, still smiling in such a nasty way that Julianne's stomach curdles. "After the words are written, I'll allow you to kill Firefox and his saviors in reward."
"What," Meggie snaps in a shrill voice. "What are you talking about? You made a promise!" Mo grabs her before she can lunge forward and Firefox snatches his sword out of Julianne's hand before she can put it to any use. He sheathes it one-handed, the other tangled up in the back of Julianne's dress.
"Three words," Talion asks, still dazed. He takes the Adderhead's proffered dagger in his left hand, holding it out towards Mo. "Aye, write them." Meggie screams, struggling so harshly that two soldiers have to help Mo restrain her. Julianne keeps her feet planted, knowing well that Talion will never get the chance to stab anyone after those words are put down on paper.
"You heard the man, Taddeo, write the words and count them out as you go!" Taddeo dips the quill in the ink and begins to write, the sharp edge scratching against the rough paper. It's such a quiet sound, but it echoes in Julianne's ears like an avalanche.
"One," Taddeo counts, whispering. The pen keeps scratching, over and over as it forms words meant to kill. "Two." He hesitates to write the last word, glancing uncertainly at his master. The Adderhead meets his stare, eyes cold and reptilian. Taddeo bows his head and continues to write. "Three." Talion's eyes widen with muted horror, the dagger falling out of a numb hand and entirely forgotten as the soldier crumples beside it. He writhes, limbs going stiff, and then he's gone. It takes only seconds for it to all be over, three little words and a bit of ink ending a man's life.
"Take him from my castle before the White Women come to fetch him," the Adderhead commands, sneering at the two men-at-arms that move to grab him. They drag him through a servant's entrance, Talion's limp hand still pressed over his heart. "Remove his name, Taddeo. Make it fresh as new snow again." The scraping sound is loud in the hall, but somehow not nearly as awful as a quill against paper.
"It's finished, Highness," Taddeo whispers. Piper takes the book from his trembling hands and holds it out for the Adderhead to write in, propped open in his hands. The Adderhead accepts the pen from Taddeo, then gazes curiously at Mo.
"Did you bind any other magic in my book, Bluejay? Just know that there are many ways to kill a man and his family, ways that make what I did to Talion look pleasant." Mo puts his hand to the gunshot wound, rubbing much like Talion had a moment ago.
"No extra magic," he says, staring at the dagger lying forgotten at the Adderhead's feet. "I know nothing about magic, that's strictly left to Mortola." The Adderhead nods, satisfied. He dips the pen in ink and he writes, one word this time, and Julianne thinks she'll never be able to stand hearing a quill against paper ever again. "Taddeo, lock the book up where no one else can get to it."
"You've got your proof that my father isn't a liar," Julianne says, voice little more than a faint rasp. "Now let us go."
"Bold little thing. Someone needs to teach you a lesson or two in being demure. Perhaps my old herald can beat it into you." Firefox says nothing, gloved hand still tight in Julianne's dress. She can feel the fabric stretch tight over her shoulders, can hear faint little rips. "Alas, you've also got a point. Let this rabble and whoever else they decide to save go."
"Come on," Firefox whispers, tugging her with him over to Mo as though she isn't itching to wrap her arms around her father. Mo glances around the room at the remaining soldiers that have moved out of his way, gaze wary. He pulls Firefox's sword from its sheath in an awkward arc, his hand struggling to keep the blade up.
"Mo," Meggie hisses," what are you doing?" Mo just pulls her close to him, nodding for Julianne to get behind him. She understands what's driving him, feels the same dread tearing through her. Who's to say they'll be safe outside of the throne room? What's to stop a soldier from stabbing them with a spear or a group of them from pouring boiling pitch from the ramparts as they pass under the portcullis?
"Don't you trust my word, Bluejay," the Adderhead asks in amusement.
"I trust it as well as I can, but everyone else has a weapon and I'd quite like to have one, too. You keep the book, I'll keep this sword, and we'll both consider ourselves lucky if we never see the other again." The Adderhead's laugh is a dark thing, sour wine laced with poison.
"You're a good opponent, Bluejay. Why, in another life I would have welcomed you with opened arms as my herald, but I will keep my word. Let him go. Tell the guards at the gate that I'm letting the Bluejay go because he's made me immortal. And Firefox?" The herald glances up, looking a bit put-out at having his sword taken for the second time today. "Do not come back here or I'll finish what I started."
"Understood," Firefox says, nodding once. They leave the throne room huddled tightly together, even Firefox putting a hand out to steady Mo's shaking arm. Two men-at-arms escort them through the halls and to the courtyard where the other prisoners have been herded near the gate.
Julianne scans the faces of the prisoners anxiously and then one of them is moving, elbowing their way past two of the twelve guards and flinging themself forward. Mo catches Resa as though it's the most natural thing in the world, pressing a hard kiss against the crown of her head. She hugs Meggie and Julianne in turn, her face wet with tears as she holds her family.
"Come on," Mo urges," let's leave this castle before its master changes his mind." She looks all too ready to do that, but pauses when Firefox moves to go with them. He meets her stare fearlessly, then she arches a brow and he ducks his head like a sensible person. No one can withstand Resa's Mom Stare.
"Why is he going with us," she asks, voice pitched low but sharp all the same. Last time Julianne heard that tone it had been because she'd accidentally-on-purpose thrown a rock at Elinor. "He's the Adderhead's herald and a fire-raiser."
"Ex to both of those," Firefox says, sulking now. "I find I don't like working for men that attempt to murder me." Resa's other brow joins its twin near her hairline and Firefox heaves a sigh. "Also the Adderhead told me never to return and I owe your daughter and husband a life debt."
"That I believe. They're stubborn things."
"Can we go now before Mortola change's the Silver Prince's mind? I'd like to be far from here when that happens." Mo urges everyone into motion, one one guard following them beyond the gate to point at the correct path that they should take. The other prisoners stumble over their own feet to get moving, clinging to each other and whispering.
Firefox pauses at the crest of the bald hill, glancing back over his shoulder. The castle rises from the earth, a dark behemoth illuminated by gray light and the occasional flash of lightning. It makes Julianne think of that damn Stephen King book again, filled with a twisting labyrinth of hallways and all sorts of ghosts who don't yet know they're dead. One thought stands out from all the rest, the color of tarnished silver in her mind.
This inhuman place makes human monsters.
The confetti on jungle carpet, unmask, Red Death, and end quote are all from The Shining by Stephen King (it's one of my favorite books, sue me), and the quote about red-litten windows comes from The Haunted Palace by Edgar Allan Poe. On a side note, I couldn't bring myself to kill Firefox since he's one of my favorites *shrugs*