The walls were earth and rock. They suffocated her.
At night the oppressive blackness and the silence eats away at the soul of a person, and each morning, if you knew it was morning, you might find your mind farther and farther away. But after a few days you slipped into a sort of timelessness, perhaps weeks or months went by from one moment to the next, and you had no way of knowing, no point of reference.
No sunrise, no ticking clock.
The only routine was that of the guard, Burt. Sometimes he brought his friend, Frankie. Burt and Frankie would laugh and joke, and take their turns.
Every 86,400 seconds, and she counted each one, Burt would bring her food and she would sit and eat. He would set down a bucket of water and a rag, and she would bathe. He would watch, silently. She didn't have a toilet, that purpose was served by another bucket. He would fastidiously empty it every week day, except on weekends, when no one came at all.
He would say nice things to her, calming things. That it was okay, that it was almost over, that she would get out tomorrow.
"Call's just come in, 33, you're out tomorrow so this is the last time I'll get to see you," he'd said as he unbuckled his belt. Every day was the last time. Then he would do anything he wanted.
"I read about something new today," he'd say, "thought we'd try it out. You want to try it out with me, don't you, 33?"
Frankie was different, he didn't like mind games. Just pain.
"Don't do that Frankie," Burt said.
"Ah, it's just a little mark, so she'll remember me," said Frankie brandishing a small pocket knife, the cheap imitation Swiss Army type.
"Alright, but not too deep," said Burt.
33 remembered Frankie. He left behind 21 memories. Some memories were deeper, longer. Some of the memories were short and twisted around.
33 clawed at the pendant embedded in her chest. She could feel the wires penetrating into her. She tried to pull it out, she wanted to be rid of it. It was her shackle, her chain, if only she could pull it out. But the pain was too great, the more she pulled it, the more it felt like she was dying.
The girl stood at the window, her flowing black robes rippled as if soft air were flowing from underneath them. Her long black hair had been wrapped up in tall ornate topknot. Her slender frame stood like a statue before the grand window looking out onto a vast garden, filled with statues and strange plants and trees. The trees would sometimes move, to bat at a bird flying to close, or to twist another side around to face the bright midday sun.
Sometimes the statues would change position, or take a break and sit down on a small stool. The room was small and cozy with a writing desk and large paintings covering the wall. Stained wooden crown molding separated the cream colored walls. In the middle of the room lay a large Persian rug, and on it, two hand carved sitting chairs separated by a small table. A servant, dressed in a royal blue coat with tails was gently setting a tea tray on it.
Another servant opened the double doors to the room and a tall broad shouldered man with a copious mustache and foppish hairdo sashed into the room, stooping into a low bow.
"Bonjour, votre altesse," said the man, still bowed obsequiously.
"Guten Tag, Herzog Grindelwald," replied the girl, turning gracefully.
"You do me great honor, Your Majesty, to speak to me in my native language, " said Grindelwald, bowing once more before standing up straight and walking to the seat now offered by the young woman.
"I regret that my father, the king, cannot meet with you before you return to Bavaria, I trust you will carry our best wishes to Herr Hitler, and our congratulations to him for becoming 'Man of the Year' for Time magazine. I hear it is a great honor among muggles," she said as she floated softly into the seat opposite him.
She offered him tea; he politely declined.
"Of course I will, and I offer the whole of Germany's condolences for the loss of your mother," he said. "We all mourn her loss, though we thank God that her legacy of beauty and grace lives on in you."
"You are most kind, Herzog, and I thank you for your condolences," she said.
There was a moment of silence. She sat still and straight, her eyes dark and piercing. They penetrated right to his core and he became a bit uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.
"As you well know, Your Highness, the Confederacy of Warlocks have blessed our little endeavor, and I wanted to thank the King personally for his invaluable support," he said.
"The King is assured of your ability to manage Herr Hitler and his party, and he looks forward to an era of peace and prosperity," she replied.
The Duke sat for a moment, looking pensive.
"There is, of course, the other matter, which I had hoped to discuss with his majesty before leaving . . ." Grindelwald trailed off.
"I will speak to it on his behalf," she said.
"If I am to find what is sought, I will require some additional resources which I fear only the King himself can provide," he said. "As you know, Herr Dulles is in pursuit as well, if this should fall into the hands of a muggle, well it would be disastrous for our kind."
"The King will honor any request pursuant to our mutual goals. You may address him in letter should the need arise; this is assured on our behalf," she said.
Grindelwald bowed his head politely.
"Thank you, Your Highness, and please extend our condolences to his majesty at the proper time along with our most gracious thanks."
The princess bowed her head slightly and stood up.
"Your visit and your condolences have been most appreciated, Herzog, but I am sure you must be pressed for time. I bid you fond farewell and will attend you with pleasure on our next meeting."
Grindelwald stood up and bowed deeply and backed slowly to the door. It opened behind him and he turned and left.
"I wish to be alone," she said to the servant. "I shall lock the door and I am not to be disturbed for any reason for one hour."
The servant bowed and closed the doors as he left.
The girl took a small piece of chalk out of the writing desk drawer across the room from where she was sitting and a large folded piece of parchment that had been dyed black. She set it on the carpet in the center of the room, unfolding it many times and smoothing it flat. She took the chalk and held it in front of her.
Taking out a short wand with a silver engraved handle, she drew the tip lightly up the chalk, again, and again, mumbling under her breath. She then drew a wide circle on the parchment and walked back to the window. She stared out at the garden. She waited, motionless, as if frozen in time for nearly twenty minutes. Until 'pop', a man arrived in the middle of the circle holding a small handkerchief.
He was tall and clean shaven, a bit lanky with a bright youthful face and kind blue eyes. He seemed, by all appearances, to be a bit of a dandy with his pressed suit and coordinated cravat. He had sky blue robes that glistened ever so slightly.
"Ah, Mr. Dumbledore," said the girl.
"Your Majesty," said Dumbledore, bowing politely." I apologize for the tardiness, my time these days is less and less my own."
The girl offered him a seat and he took it, smiling brightly as she fell back into her seat, massaging her temples.
"You are troubled, Princess?" he asked.
"I just met with that pompous and foul man, Grindelwald," she said.
Dumbledore made a sharp intake of breath and leaned back in the chair, interlocking his fingers.
"I take it the Confederacy of Warlocks has agreed to his plans," Dumbledore surmised.
"The King has convinced them. He's a doddering fool and barely more than a squib. So long as my mother was alive he was under control, but now he begins to think he can actually make decisions himself," she said, shaking her head.
"Grindelwald has convinced him it can be found, and that he would turn it over to him," she said. "As if he would."
"Do you believe it can be found?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yes, there are many things in this world of tremendous power. Why not that?" she said.
Dumbledore sat back for a moment and thought. The princess watched him studiously. After a moment she shook her head and leaned forward.
"I will not mince words with you, Albus," she said using his first name. "I have asked you here for a purpose which neither of us will like."
"I suspected as much," Dumbledore said. "But I must wonder, how do you know that you can trust me?"
"I don't," she said, "which is why I must ask you to make the Unbreakable Vow."
Dumbledore took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled loudly.
"I cannot promise to do a thing without first knowing what it is. I hope you understand, Your Majesty."
"I do. I do not ask you to vow to do a thing, only to vow never to reveal what I tell you, what I ask you, or anything to do with this meeting," she said.
"That I can do," he said and offered his hand to her, taking out his wand. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do vow before her royal majesty, Persephone Margot Sabine, umm . . ."
"Susan," she said.
"Ah, yes, Susan d'Orleans that I shall not reveal, under any circumstances and for any reason, the content or fact of our encounter today," he finished.
An energetic red flame ejected from the tip of his wand and encircled their hands.
It was done.
"Satisfied?" he asked.
"That will do, yes," she replied. "I am prepared to put all my resources at your disposal for a not so simple task. I want you to kill Duke Grindelwald."