It had never been Miranda's intention to leave, in the way that she did, but there was too much trust in Elyon's prison: trust that no one would have come again to help her. She didn't exactly know the stories of the other men; sandpit and a gargoyle who's lost hand had been replaced by that of stone. Raythor was with her. Perhaps it ought to be less comforting, for the man she knew had been dead, though now she knew his story. One of a treacherous Vathek and the key to the Oubliette - a story in which he seemed to forget that it was Phobos who'd thrown him into the Abyss. Using Cedric's hands.
He had climbed his shadowy fate for near a fortnight, and longed for Vathek's blood on his hands. And now he longed for Cedric's, leaving Miranda without a bloodlust, because they had been rounded up in rebellion, though Miranda hadn't much felt like killing anyone anyway. Prince Phobos knew - with his beady eyes, and no one in the prisons were going to mention the witch who'd come to save her; least the guard that had been promised forgetfulness the moment Nerissa had looked into his eyes. "You remember.."
"I wont forget." Her hands were thinner, more gripping than Miranda could expect, as the woman - with darker hair and she seemed to grow in youth, rather than age - smiled over her shoulder, with the dog-man snarling at her; hungry. But Nerissa had promised that it wouldn't eat her, because that was an it and not a he. Forged. Miranda could tell. Made for the fear of a guardian girl, that Miranda was sure she recalled Phobos watching over, less violently than Nerissa watched now. "I wont forget."
"Perfect, Miranda." The portal had been there forever now. For three days, and it led to Earth apparently. A portal also led to Nerissa, she supposed, but Miranda truly had no interest in the witch's origin. She had a job to do now, and there was no option of being sent back to the prisons. Miranda had reacted in rash foolishness, but she had seen the scalding repentance that Nerissa was willing to cause. If Will Vandom was being given the privilege to live, Miranda wanted no notion of the punishment, death.
...
Cornelia Hale could not release the tension in her glare, even for Matt Olsen's sake, as Will's russet eyes blankly returned her gesture. Nerissa had never seen anything quite as spectacular, though she could merely smirk at Will's pounding little heart as blood filled her ears over what had barely been insulting. Miranda departed as quietly as she had initially arrived and had spent all her time in between, but Nerissa was no judge. "Jeeze Will, can't you just go! What, scared of Yan Lin?"
But there would be no reply, as it had become Will's biggest bowing gesture; she was listening, for a response. Expecting Nerissa. And how Nerissa liked to please, "Get up, you silly little waif."
And there was only the slightest hesitation before Will did.