Chapter Twenty Five

Mystery in the Shadows

JANUS

Night had fallen, though nowhere near as soon as Janus had hoped for. The problem with staging a breakout trial run at night, he lamented, was that he had to wait hours for the right time. And patience wasn't exactly one of his greatest virtues.

Elsa and Tracy had managed to acquire the items he needed from the black market dealer hidden in the women's library on the second floor. The way Tracy had spoken in earnest about their encounter with the black market dealer had raised a few eyebrows among the Warriors, and when Janus had looked to Elsa, she had simply shrugged. It seems that she has a lot more than tricks up her sleeve than she lets on. Janus couldn't help but grin at her.

Two vials of acid and a replacement lock to conceal evidence of his trial run tonight. Janus glanced over at his mattress, where he had carefully hidden the items. Now one just had to hope that the guards wouldn't do a random shakedown of his cell.

What were the chances of that happening right before lights out? Not very likely, but he didn't really feel eager to tempt fate. In the case that they really did a shakedown, then he would just have to make a run from the morgue. No time for the test trial, just the real thing. But thankfully, he didn't have to worry about that prospect for his time had finally come.

"Lights out!" A deep voice boomed, and the lamps went out. The entire building was thrown into pitch darkness, all except for the torches and lanterns held by the patrolling guards swinging about to check on the prisoners in their cells.

Good, Janus thought as he sat at the edge of his bed, carefully distancing himself from the centre of the mattress where he had placed the vials of acid and the lock. It's time. He leaned against the hard stone wall, and feigned comfort as he heard the footsteps of the guards approaching. The light from the lantern drew closer and grew stronger until it shone through the bars of his cell.

Janus glanced over lazily at the guard outside who was holding up his lantern to get a good look inside the cell just to make sure there was nothing uncanny going on. When the guard was satisfied, he slowly turned away and continued his patrol.

As the man left, Janus counted the paces. Seven, eight, nine, ten. Like a cat, he slid off his bed and went to the bars. Surveying the level, he was content to see that the guard that had just passed him by had turned the corner and disappeared, just like he had timed. Eyes sweeping across the level, he saw no more guards in the immediate vicinity. It would take fifteen minutes before another guard would circle round this part of the block to check on the prisoners again as part of a quarter hour cycle. Which means I need to hurry.

"You're clear." Maui whispered from the cell beside him. "You better move now and make sure to count the seconds. Fifteen minutes."

Janus nodded and went back to the bed. Lifting up the thin mattress, he pulled out one vial of acid and carefully popped open the lid. The clear liquid inside was hydrochloric acid, one of the strongest in existence. It would easily eat through the lock on his cell.

Cautiously, he moved to the bars and pressed his face to them. Then, reaching outside with the vial in hand, he carefully angled the vial towards the old iron lock. It was already rusted over, which would theoretically make the process a lot faster.

Face against the iron bars, he made certain that not one drop of the acid would go to waste, and as steadily as he could, poured the acid onto the lock. Drop by drop. The acid trickled into the keyhole, around the edges, and coated the entire lock. There was a very tiny sizzling sound as the rusted metal began to melt.

The acid was so strong that it took just a minute or two to eat through the lock, like a hungry predator devouring its prey. What remained of the corroded lock wasn't much, and neither was it heavy. It dropped to the ground with a clang of metal hitting stone, which sounded louder than it actually was.

Janus winced and braced himself, anticipating a guard overhearing it and coming over to check things out. Thankfully, none came. Maybe he was being overly paranoid, but not that anyone could blame him for it. All this was a long shot to begin with.

Carefully, his fingers worked deftly to pull back the bolt which held the door in place as quickly as he could without making too much noise. The only metal bolt moved with a protesting creak along the rusted edges of the cell, and finally the cell door popped open, swinging outwards slightly. He caught the door and slipped through the gap, then shut the cell door quietly behind him.

"Good luck," Maui said in a low voice. "We're counting on you."

"Thanks." Janus said. And thanks for the added pressure too. He darted across the dark corridor silently, so quietly that not even the prisoners he passed in their cells noticed he was there. His mercenary training from times past came in useful once again.

One thing he wished he had though: His mercenary outfit. The tight blacks that he usually wore would be vastly more preferable, since he would then be able to blend into the shadows nicely. In prison grey, he was more susceptible to being spotted. To make up for his lack of his standard attire, his footsteps were non existent, and he moved like a shadow, noiseless against the stone floor.

The morgue was on level four, and so he climbed up a couple of flights of switchback stairs to reach the fourth floor. Every moment, he held his breath when he thought he heard someone approaching, but every time, it turned out to just be a figment of his imagination. Or his paranoia. Under normal circumstances, he would have no qualms about slitting a guard's throat to prevent him from making any noise.

But then in this place, he couldn't possibly do that. Killing a guard would mean leaving a body out in the open since he didn't know any hiding spots where he could stow the body safely, and even if he did, there would be blood on the floor and a missing guard at roll call. The guards would notice in daytime and know that someone had broken out, meaning that the patrols would be doubled and his chance of escaping would be taken away. No. I have to stay out of sight. No engaging.

Janus ascended and arrived at the top of the flight of stairs. But before he could go any further, he stuck to the wall, and peered out to make sure the coast was clear. It was. The fourth floor wasn't being used to keep prisoners, so there weren't any guards patrolling this part of the block. And in any case, none of them expected to find any prisoner out of their cells after lights out anyway.

When he was certain it was safe, Janus slipped out from behind the wall and made his way down another corridor that would lead to the morgue. His new acquaintance Monco had given him the directions to the morgue, and thus far his information had been reliable. In a different life, if he had still been a mercenary, Janus would have liked to have Monco and his circle of thieves as allies.

The turn of a corner led Janus down another passage. This one was lit, but dimly by a pair of lamps hanging from the stone walls, which had moss, weeds and other sorts of greenery growing from it. The corridor here was damp smelling, and Janus wrinkled his nose a little as he inched closer towards the morgue at the very end.

The door of the morgue was closed, and Janus was sure that at this hour, no one would be doing any sort of work. That was the hope anyway, but who knew how people in this strange profession worked? As Monco had told him, the door of the morgue wasn't locked. Why though, Janus mused to himself. Why would the prison guards complacently leave this door unlocked when they know that prisoners might try to escape?

Then it dawned on him. The snipers up high and their bright lights. They would spot anyone trying to escape by water almost immediately. Not unless you take out the men up in their vantage points and neutralise the guards patrolling the grounds of the island. But he would worry about that when the time came. This is only just the test run.

Pulling the handle, the door of the morgue swung outwards with a loud creak, as did many of the other doors in this institution. Janus slipped inside and closed the door quietly behind him - as quietly as the door could manage anyhow. Once inside, he looked around.

The atmosphere was positively creepy, and there was a certain air of heaviness that made Janus feel uncomfortable. Dead prisoners laid on open tables, and others in separate metal shelves that resembled ovens. These, according to Monco, were prisoners that had been beaten to death by the guards or had committed suicide in their cells. Either that, or by some other weird unknown causes.

Janus tried to ignore this piece of information, and moved through the room. There wasn't any light in the room, so it took Janus a moment for his trained eyes to adjust back to the dark, and he did so with relative ease. Eyes swivelling about, he spotted a large hole in the wall, where the stone had been carved out in a nice wide rectangle big enough to fit a human body.

This must be where the bodies are disposed of, dropped down into the depths below once the undertakers are done. It wasn't an ideal escape route, Janus grimaced as he walked towards the hole. But it would have to do. Besides, what other choice do I have?

Taking a deep breath, he very nearly gagged on the foul scent of rotting corpses, and climbed into the hole. Dreading the sight that would meet him, he looked down. It was a deep drop. Four storeys down into water that flowed downstream. The water would theoretically wash the bodies out into the river, where they would sink and be lost forever to nature. But that didn't seem to have worked so well. The number of bodies had piled up, and the water wasn't strong enough to push them out, and so they had simply been left to rot and decompose in the sewer tunnel below.

Gritting his teeth, Janus forced himself to turn away and take shallow breaths to avoid breathing in too deeply. Focus. His hands felt about for cracks in the stone where he could get a decent grip, and his feet searched for footholds. They were all quite shallow, and the walls of the stone which led all the way down were rather slippery, so Janus went as slowly as he could manage, while trying to keep the time constraint in mind. Ten and a half minutes left.

Descending the drop, Janus finally reached the end of the stone wall which was not very far above the water thankfully. He landed nimbly on top one of the corpses, and he could feel his feet sinking into the remains. Quickly, he got off and plodded into the water which hovered at his chest level, and clambered over the pile of dead bodies to get further downstream.

If you're doing a trial run, take the first left turn to get back out to the exterior of the prison building, Monco's voice rang in his head. Otherwise, you're gonna wash right out into the river and then there'll be no turning back.

Janus heeded the advice, and swam left at the first fork, where the water seemed to subside considerably. He could feel the sewer tunnel sloping uphill, and soon he arrived at the end of it. There was a grate above his head, which he removed and slid to the side. Peeking out cautiously, he made sure that there was no guards patrolling this part of the prison grounds.

There weren't any sentries. However, there was something going on by the fence. Something stirred within Janus, and he felt strange. He decided to get a closer look without being spotted, and so he darted noiselessly towards the commotion. The night's cold winter air blew against his wet prison uniform, and he shivered a little. As he drew closer, he could see a group of people gathered by the big gate separating the prison from the rest of the island. The funny thing was, the gate was open.

Something's not right. Janus could feel it in his bones. When he was close enough, he scaled the bark of the nearest tree with relative ease, doing his best to keep the rustling of the leaves to a minimum. Once he was up in the trees and concealed by the withering foliage, he clutched at a thick branch with one hand and kept his other arm around the tree bark for more stability.

Down beneath him, there were a couple of prison guards, and amongst them was Deputy Warden Leonid. He was talking in hushed tones with men dressed in…dark brown cloaks? The mystery guests were clothed in loose leathers, which had been drawn tight at the wrists and ankles, while the rest of the garments flowed freely, billowing in the bitterly cold wind. Their faces were obscured, hooded by the cloaks which had been pulled over their heads. Janus recognised the tactic, for when in his mercenary garb, he himself wore a hood to conceal most of his face in shadows. An intimidation technique.

And beside the guards and the men in cloaks, there on the grass lay three unconscious prisoners, a fourth already being carried out of the prison grounds by a pair of cloaked men. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to strain his ears and make out what the guards were saying.

"Can't bring more tonight." Janus heard Leonid say. "The Warden sends his apologies."

One of the cloaked men whispered something in return which Janus could not make out, before turning away and signalling to the rest of the cloaked men. They carried the remaining three prisoners out of the gate, and Janus' eyes followed them as they made their way to the boats which was docked at the coast. His eyes flicked back to Leonid and the guards, who were pulling the gate shut and walking back into the prison building.

Something's definitely wrong here, Janus pursed his lips. Dead wrong.

ELSA

At breakfast, Elsa listened intently as Janus described his trial run that had taken place last night. It had been a success, he recounted. Burning through the lock, adhering to the time schedule of the patrols, making his way to the morgue and down the hole - Elsa and the others had squirmed a little at this part - and then making his way back to his cell.

"And then I replaced the lock with the new one you guys got." Janus finished. He had changed into a new set of prison uniform, since the one from last night was soiled from his adventure. "Not much of a difference, apart from the fact that the new lock is slightly less rusty than the old one. But the guards probably won't notice."

"That doesn't sound too bad." Tracy said in approval.

"You think you can pull it off for the real thing?" Deirdre asked.

Janus nodded. He looked confident, though he had displayed a wince as he had described the morgue and the descent into the hole. "Shouldn't be a problem. Just have to take out the snipers on the roof and the patrolling guards on duty before that."

"Then it's settled." Elsa said satisfactorily. "The plan works."

"I did see something last night though." Janus said, his expression grim. "Something strange."

"What?" Maui asked.

"When I came out of the sewer, I saw something going on at the gate." Janus leaned forward, dropping his voice. "Guards were handing off prisoners to men in cloaks."

"Say what?" Tracy said in a slightly loud voice, and was hissed at by the others to pipe down.

Elsa frowned. "Men in cloaks?"

"Long dark brown cloaks. They had boats big enough to transport some prisoners off the island. The prisoners were unconscious. Likely drugged."

"The guards were helping the cloaked men?" Deirdre asked.

Janus nodded. "They had some agreement. I overheard the Deputy Warden negotiating with them. Saying something about the Warden sending his apologies."

"So the Warden is in on this too?" Elsa formed her lips into a hard line. "That can't be good."

"Agreed. Which means that the authority figures are getting rid of their prisoners intentionally without wanting to raise too much attention. Otherwise they would've had no qualms about doing it in broad daylight." Maui said.

As they took a moment to digest what Janus had told them, there was a lingering silence - even Jade seemed to have taken an interest in what they were discussing. Elsa had known instinctively that there was something fishy about this place, but she had chalked it up to nerves. But now she knew better. There really was something strange going on in Stormtide.

"I'll talk to Venetia after breakfast." Elsa broke the silence. The ex-thieves weren't at the table beside them today. "Maybe try and find out if she knows anything about this."

The Warriors nodded. Janus looked at her, and she caught the familiar look in his eye. Be careful.

###

After breakfast, there was a designated time slot for the female prisoners to clean their level. Some were assigned to the library, the corridors, others the quartermaster's store, but the most dreaded were the toilets and common bathing areas. To her dismay, Elsa got assigned to the last together with Tracy.

Being someone who had come from privilege, Elsa had never really had to clean her own room or wash the dishes after meals, let alone scrub the slimy walls of a common bathroom. The idea was so foreign to her, but it hadn't really fazed Tracy much, if her usual nonchalant expression was anything to go on. But on the bright side, Venetia was on the same roster as her, together with a few other women, which meant that Elsa and Tracy could talk to her.

Folding up their pant legs to their knees, the two girls left their shoes outside the bathing area. Tracy and Elsa went in barefooted, armed with buckets of soap, rags and brushes. The floor of the common bathing area sloshed about with greasy cold water, and Elsa sighed in disgust as something unpleasantly slimy stuck to her big toe. Trying to keep her repugnance at bay, she waded through it in search of Venetia, who had already begun work in the corner.

"Venetia," Elsa called out as she and Tracy set down their bucket beside the wall where the former thief was scrubbing noncommittally with her rag.

"Oh, hey." Venetia responded lazily, side-eyeing Elsa and Tracy. "Petra's not after me yet, so that's good."

"Listen," Tracy plunged her rag into the bucket and soapy water splashed onto Elsa's shirt, inciting an exclamation of frustration from Elsa. "We need to ask you something."

"What?" Venetia asked as she mechanically moved her rag up and down the grimy panels of the wall.

"Do you know anything about prisoners disappearing?" Elsa flicked off a bit of soap off her arm as she glowered at Tracy.

Venetia muttered something in Vjorman under her breath and went stiff. "Why do you ask?"

Elsa tried to feign innocence. "Just curious."

"I know a lie when I see one, Ilkashan." Venetia snorted. "Why, one of your friends disappeared already?"

Elsa's eyes tightened. "What do you mean already?"

"Then how do you know that prisoners disappear?"

Elsa and Tracy exchanged knowing glances for a moment, both silently agreeing that Venetia could be trusted with their secret.

"Our man Janus got out last night. A test run." Tracy began.

"He saw guards meeting with cloaked men by the gate." Elsa continued. "And there were prisoners with them. Unconscious prisoners. They were being handed over to the men in cloaks, to be taken off the island."

"Ah." Venetia said quietly. Then, she risked a look behind her shoulder as if afraid a guard was listening. For the first time since they had met, Elsa saw fear in the thief's eyes, and suddenly felt uneasy herself.

"Why?" Tracy probed. "What do you know?"

"You mean what everyone knows." Venetia said in a very low voice, and the two Warriors had to lean in closer to hear her speak. "All the prisoners learn, sooner or later, that people disappear. Sometimes the hard way."

Sweat beading on her brow, Elsa scrubbed the grime-covered wall with a soapy rag to keep up appearances. "You mean prisoners disappear often?"

"Yeah. Twice a week or so. A few prisoners disappear at random." Venetia's expression had grown haunted. "I should know. My lover was taken from me. He was a part of our thieving gang, and one night, he just vanished along with a few other random prisoners. I never saw him again."

"I'm sorry." Elsa said quietly.

"Yeah," Venetia steeled her voice, masking the fact that she was on the verge of tears. "Prisoners are transported here often enough, so smuggling prisoners off to these cloaked men don't change the numbers much. No one raises any questions anyway, or no one dares to for fear of being the next to disappear."

"Janus told us the Warden knows." Tracy said.

Pausing for a moment, Venetia nodded quickly. "Sounds about right."

"Does anyone know who these cloaked men are? Where they come from?" Elsa asked.

"Nope." Venetia had regained her composure by now, and had turned back to wiping down a soapy wall with a clean cloth. "No one knows who those bastards are. Scares us, if I'm being frank. We don't know who's whisking us away."

The three girls went quiet as they worked, the only sounds being the scrubbing sounds against the wall and the plunging of rags into buckets of water. Off from the other side of the bathing area, a few women were shouting something at one another.

"Look," Elsa finally said to Venetia. "We might need your help with something."

"Again?" Venetia raised an eyebrow. "Last time you asked for my help, you may have ruined my friendship with Petra. Where am I going to get my stuff now?"

"You want out of Stormtide or not?" Tracy snapped bluntly.

Elsa cringed. Maybe a little too blunt.

Venetia perked up. "You're going to get us out?"

"Well, the plan is to get us all out." Elsa resisted tucking a loose strand of sweaty hair behind her ear with a soapy hand, wishing she had tied her hair into a bun or ponytail. "Every sorcerer, regardless of whether they were innocent or actual criminals."

Venetia looked genuinely baffled. "And why would you help people like me? We're thieves and you're…well..."

"We can't leave anyone here, not when we now know that the Warden is illegally smuggling prisoners off to these cloaked men." Elsa said. "And anyway, this isn't right. Sorcerers being imprisoned in the first place."

"You're not joking, are ya?" Venetia had an incredulous look on her face, and a glimmer of hope.

"Spread the word." Tracy said. "We're going to offer you all safe refuge with the League of Sorcerers once we break out of Stormtide. Or at least, we'll try to. My powers were still a little iffy last time I used them, so I may or may not be able to open up Crossing Points."

"Listen," Elsa leaned in closer to Venetia's ear. "I need you to tell your friends that we're going to need their help. Join us in rallying all the prisoners to our side so that when the real breakout happens, it'll go the way we want. If the prisoners are divided and break off into separate riots, things are going to get messy. But if we're united…"

"You got it." Venetia grinned, hope sparkling in her eyes. "I'll make sure the word gets out. Rally behind the Snow Queen and the League of Sorcerers. Our liberators."

"Good." Elsa glanced over at Tracy who exchanged a nod with her. Things are going according to plan. But now this whole mystery with the cloaked men and the disappearance was gnawing away at the forefront of her mind. The Warden is behind this, which means we'll have to find him and get to the bottom of this. Somehow.

Author's Commentary:

Prison atmosphere was rather difficult to write if I'm being frank. But it doesn't mean it wasn't fun. I rather enjoyed building this entire prison's architecture and layout in my mind, and then throw our characters into it. Hope you're enjoying the story thus far, I'm almost done writing Book 5 at the time of this posting. Excited to let you all see what's in store :)