Chapter Twenty Nine

The Price of Truth

ELSA

The riot had calmed not long after she and her merry band of inmates had freed Janus and Tracy. As expected, the prison guards soon overwhelmed them. Brandishing muskets, batons and shields, the guards soon came into the mess hall in neat formations, coming from all four corners and boxing the prisoners in.

They were reinforced with thick lines behind them, and sharpshooters were stationed on the second and third levels to shoot if necessary. Thankfully, it didn't come to that. Elsa had made sure the word had been spread that there was to be no more rioting once the guards showed up in overwhelming numbers. It still made her feel awful to think she was the engineer of so much chaos. So much hurt. Violence. She had to remind herself that it was a necessary evil in order to pave the way for a great escape. A massive liberation from the clutches of the Confederation. It'll be worth it, she tried to convince herself.

By this time, Janus must have escaped. Or he wouldn't have at all. If the latter was true, then all of this had been for nothing. But she was quite sure that Janus had gotten out safely. She had to believe he did. He was Prometheus. The best mercenary on this side of the world. He had to have succeeded.

In any case, Elsa didn't hear any news. The prisoners had been subdued, some dragged off to solitary confinement, while the rest were thrown back in their cells. Elsa had been among those who had been tossed roughly back in their cells, as had the rest of her allies.

Maui, Monco and the other men had been taken back to their cell on the third level, while Deirdre, Jade, Venetia, Petra, and her band of women had been taken back to the second level. Even Tracy, who had been previously thrown in "The Hole", had been tossed back in her cell. Maybe by oversight, or maybe so many people had been taken to solitary confinement that there simply wasn't enough space to throw Tracy back in the well.

"Do you think Janus got out?" Jade asked quietly from the cell beside her. This was one of the rare times that she spoke coherently in the last couple of days. She did look slightly better, having taken part in the riot and vented her anger on the prison guards. She still looked rather sullen though.

"He got out." Elsa replied in a confident tone, leaning against the bars at very edge of her cell. Jade had been present when the Warriors had discussed Janus' escape plan, and was aware of everything in spite of the fact that she appeared catatonic.

"Good." Jade muttered and went silent.

"Are you alright?" Elsa asked, willing Jade to keep talking.

"Fine."

"If you want to talk, I-"

"No," Jade said. There was a long pause, then she spoke again. "Deirdre told me about your plan. To find the men in the cloaks."

"Yes. It might be the only way for us to-"

"Good luck." Jade said quietly. "You're going to need it."

"Thanks."

Silence.

Elsa supposed that that was the end of the conversation. Still, better than nothing. At least Jade was talking again. Healing after the death of her brother. She had a long way to go, but that was a worry for another time. A time when they were all out of prison. Hopefully that time would come soon. Lying down on her mattress, she gazed up at the ceiling. All she could see was blood, though she knew it was just her imagination.

Blood that stained the walls of the mess hall. The tables. The chairs. The uniforms of the guards. The uniforms of the inmates. There was even blood on her own grey uniform, which had been gotten stained when she had tried to help one of the inmates who had been wounded by a prison guard. Elsa wiped at the blood stain on her sleeveless grey shirt, and teared up as she looked at the red remnant on her hand. She had to hope this was all worth it.

###

She didn't know how much time had elapsed, but she stirred when she heard the lock outside her cell clanging against the steel bars. The door of her cell was opened, and by this time Elsa regained full consciousness. It took her a moment to realise what was happening.

The attention she had hoped to gain, the chance she was banking on, it was finally happening. The guards were taking her. She would have felt relieved that her plan had worked if she wasn't so nervous.

"Get up. The Warden wants to see you." The dreadful voice of Deputy Warden Leonid snarled in her ear, causing her hands and feet to grow clammy.

This was followed by someone grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to her feet. She was pushed outside, where she saw that the entire cell block was dark and quiet. It must have been hours since the riot.

"Don't make a sound." Leonid hissed in her ear again with an air of danger flitting in his voice. "Otherwise you're going to regret it. Nod if you understand."

Elsa nodded, her loose hair bedraggled and falling over her face messily. This is finally happening.

"Good." Leonid said. "Get her to the Warden's office."

Arms pinned at a painful angle behind her back, Elsa was hustled down the corridor of the cell block and into the next. It's incredibly ironic, she mused to herself. Not more than two years ago, she was being accompanied by royal guards from her palace that would fiercely protect their queen with their lives. And now, she was being dragged through prison corridors by hostile Molcorran guards that would like nothing more than to see her dead. She would have laughed if she wasn't so on edge with anticipation.

It was so dark that she couldn't really see where they were going. The guards didn't use any lamps or lights as the small procession marched down the hallway. In any case, her eyes were still slightly gummy from slumber. But she knew where they were taking her, so it didn't matter. Now all she had to do was make this count.

Finally, after many twists and turns, they arrived outside an ordinary looking door. Leonid rapped on it three times, and then opened it, shoving Elsa inside roughly. The guards followed closely behind, ready to pounce if she tried anything.

Inside, Elsa looked around. The Warden's office wasn't awe inspiring. It looked like any other room. It didn't bear much difference as compared to a storage room or broom closet, apart from the fact that it was slightly larger and better furnished.

A few shelves of books lined the walls of the cramped office, and a bed in the corner of the room. Apart from that, all that remained in the room to mark it as an office was a simple wooden desk that stood in the centre of the room, with an oil lamp on the table that was flickering weakly.

Behind the desk sat a heavyset man, who was running to fat with age. His head was bald with the exception of some remnants of grey hair on both sides, but the top of his head was positively bare. The man - presumably the Warden - wore thick glasses which made his eyes look rather large, and had a thick moustache that gave him the appearance of a classic opera villain.

"Warden," Leonid said stiffly. "The prisoner is here, just like you asked."

"Excellent." The Warden looked up from the stack of papers on his desk. His voice was polished, with an accent that made it hard to tell if it was real or put on. He waved at the Deputy Warden and the guards. "You may leave."

"But Warden," Leonid protested. "The girl. We're positive she's dangerous. It's not safe."

"It'll be quite alright. I'm sure she won't cause any more trouble tonight." The Warden turned to Elsa. "Would you, my dear?"

Elsa opted not to reply. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, even though she had anticipated the meeting with him for a while. It still gave her the chills, despite knowing she was likely to disappear soon.

"As you wish, Warden. We'll be outside if you need us." Leonid glared at Elsa, but as she levelled his gaze coolly, she noticed a very slight upturn of his lips which unsettled her considerably.

The door closed behind her, leaving her alone in the room with the Warden. There was an awkward silence as neither spoke. Elsa watched the man as he in turn studied her, his eyes travelling up and down her figure languidly. She wondered how long the staring contest would go on as she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably.

"Welcome." The Warden finally said, waving at a simple wooden chair opposite him. "Have a seat, my dear. I trust you won't stir up any more trouble, yes?"

Elsa again neglected to reply, instead slowly levering herself into the chair, all the while watching the Warden as he remained seated behind the desk. The chair creaked, sending another bout of shivers up her spine.

"Why am I here?" Elsa asked, breaking her silence.

"Ah. I must say," The Warden drawled. "I am intrigued. Deeply intrigued. You are the Snow Queen, leader of the League of Sorcerers, are you not?"

When that drew no reply from Elsa, the man went on. "I assume you are. When I pictured the leader of the fabled League of Sorcerers, I expected someone a lot…older. Certainly not a young lady like yourself."

In response, Elsa raised her eyebrow.

"I didn't even know I had you under my roof until this evening. The riot you started, bold, I must admit, though futile. You must have known the guards would get things under control. What did you hope to accomplish?"

A distraction and the chance of finding out what I want to know, Elsa wanted to say, but instead she held her tongue, choosing instead to glower at the man seated in front of her.

The Warden cleared his throat and leaned forward. "May I hazard a guess? Shortly after the riot was quelled, my patrols reported finding dead guards across the prison exterior. The gate was blown open, and a boat is now currently missing. My guess is, your little riot was nothing more than a distraction to get your friend out. Am I correct in assuming so?"

"Yes." Elsa said, feeling relieved at the confirmation that Janus was safely off the island. No harm in admitting it now anyway. It wasn't like they could catch Janus even if they sent a whole battalion after him. Now that he was free, he could slip away into the night and get help.

"Fascinating," He leaned back in his seat. "In the time that I've been Warden of Stormtide - which hasn't been more than a year, mind you - no one has ever successfully broken out. You've accomplished something unprecedented here, and I applaud you genuinely. Undoubtedly a masterfully executed breakout."

"I would have thought you would be a little more…displeased." Elsa said. It unsettled her that the Warden had maintained a pleasant tone throughout the conversation thus far. The strangest part was that it felt genuine.

"Oh, on the contrary." He waved a hand in contradiction. "I'm not what you all think I am. Many prisoners think I'm a monster, just because I'm the Warden of this horrid, damned prison. They associate me with thugs like Leonid and the animals they call prison guards." He shook his head sadly. "No. I'd like to think I'm not like them. Like you, I'm afraid I'm a victim of circumstance." He gave her a rueful smile.

"If you expect me to be sympathetic, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you." Elsa said impassively. This could be very well be a trick to get her to lower her defences.

He held up a hand. "No sympathy needed. I just want you to understand. I was forced into becoming the Warden of Stormtide by the Confederation, simply based on the fact that I used to be Head of Security for the King of Molcorra. Curse that man, he assigned me to this godforsaken island to keep all you sorcerers locked up for the rest of your days."

He sighed and went on. "Forgive me. I've never had anything against you sorcerous types. These are just orders that I've been forced to follow. Otherwise I would have been executed for treason. I apologise for whatever has happened to all of you sorcerers. I truly am."

For the first time, Elsa saw the Warden not as a cruel, scheming man at the top of the tower, but a harmless man forced to do the Confederation's bidding. This was not what she had been expecting. She kept her gaze on him as he sighed again and took a sip from his cup.

"May I ask you a question?" Elsa asked. It was now or never.

"Of course."

"Who are the men in the brown cloaks?" She watched him stiffen slightly, and did poorly at trying to conceal his reaction.

"Men in brown cloaks? I'm not sure I understand."

"I know about the disappearances." She cut straight to the point. "I know that sorcerers are being smuggled out of Stormtide against their will and handed over to the outsiders." She leaned forward, gaining some measure of confidence. "And I know you're authorising it. Or turning a blind eye, at least. Why?"

The Warden shifted in his seat uneasily. "My dear, I would rather not have to-it's really not my place…" he trailed off.

"I have to know." Elsa said. "Please."

He glanced around at the walls, as if afraid the walls had ears. He had grown extremely paranoid, and Elsa could see big beads of sweat forming on his brow. He wiped them away with the back of a meaty hand. "It's not my fault." He whispered, his voice dropped to one of terror. "Please understand. I didn't want to, but I was forced."

"Forced by whom?" Elsa probed, straining her ears to hear his response. "The Confederation? King Uxzas? Is he the one behind the disappearances?"

His eyes darted around again hysterically, and finally rested on Elsa. She felt the panic on his face growing contagious as her heart hammered sporadically in her chest.

"The High Priest."

"High Priest?" Elsa repeated. "What is that? Who is that?"

"They call him 'the High Priest'." The Warden said faintheartedly, as if dreading the sound of the name.

"Who calls him that? The brown cloaks?" Elsa asked. "Who are they working for? The Confederation?"

"No. Not the Confederation." He whispered, eyes filled with terror. "Something worse. Far worse. Uxzas said to obey the High Priest, or else things would end badly for me and my family. I had to agree to smuggle out the sorcerers to the High Priest. Believe me, please." He pleaded. "I had no choice."

"Who's the High Priest? Tell me." Elsa was growing exasperated.

"I don't know! I've never met him before. Uxzas just tells me that the brown cloaks work for the High Priest and that I'm to obey them." The Warden trailed off again. "I'm sorry. I truly am. I have no choice."

Something was abruptly drawn over Elsa's head. A bag. A sack. She didn't know what, but it was held tightly against her face even as she struggled and clawed at the hands that were holding on tightly. She clutched and scratched at some kind of loose fabric, and tried her damnedest to scream at the top of her lungs, but found no noise escaping her throat.

"Mnangevour, synrothe vhlunfluj." A deep, muffled voice chanted in some sinister sounding language that Elsa didn't know. Something happened. Magic. But it wasn't exactly magic. It felt…darker, more malicious. Demonic perhaps. But Elsa could do nothing to resist as she felt control slipping away from her and sleep coming heavy to her eyelids.

She heard the faint voices speaking above that sounded a million miles away, even as she sank into the dark abyss. It's happening like I hoped, Elsa thought, reassuring herself that this was all part of her plan as everything grew cloudy and fuzzy. Is the price of truth worth it? Sacrificing myself like this? She didn't know because as she formulated a response, the last thought that went through her head was that of…nothing.