Chuck had learned quite a few things in the last few days. For instance, he now knew with perfect certainty that if you stare at the same brick wall for hours and hours, it in fact doesn't get even slightly more interesting. At one point, Chuck had gotten so desperate for a distraction that he'd tried to count all the bricks in his cell, but he'd lost track somewhere around two hundred and fifty bricks near the ceiling where the lighting was too poor to make out the edges.
No amount of brick counting could distract him. Whenever Chuck closed his eyes, all he could see was Sarah. The image of her tied to that tree and glaring at him seemed all but tattooed to the back of his eyelids. He felt so bad for leaving her like that, but it had kept her safe. He hoped she managed to get free and find her way home.
Seeing that blade against her neck had made Chuck feel like his heart stopped. Time stood still and the only thing Chuck could think about was saving Sarah from that knife. It was in that moment that he'd realized there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to keep her safe.
Which he suppose is what led him to being locked in a dungeon by some guy named Quinn. That was the other thing Chuck had learned since arriving here: bricks would always be dull and the man who'd put a knife to Sarah's throat had a name.
Quinn never came down to Chuck's cell. Chuck had only learned his captor's name by listening to the guards who brought his meals. For a while, they kept calling him just 'the boss' but eventually one of them slipped up and used his name. Quinn. It wasn't a very intimidating name, but he was definitely an intimidating guy. From the way the guards talked, Chuck felt sure this Quinn character scared them shitless. He had to wonder why the guards were even working for him. Then again, fear was a highly effective leadership tool, even if one Chuck had no experience with. Neither of his parents had ever used fear to lead before, and Chuck didn't plan on taking up the habit if he ever took over.
Chuck had to believe they were keeping him alive for a reason. He had no idea what that reason was, but surely if they wanted him dead, he'd be dead already. Quinn could have just killed him in the woods when Chuck turned himself in to save Sarah, and saved himself the trouble of transporting a prisoner. Chuck felt sure they needed him for something. The question was what. He couldn't help but hope that this was just about a ransom and he was just one large sum of money transfer away from freedom. He sensed, however, that something much bigger and much worse was going on here. Chuck had never felt so powerless in his life.
With a deep sigh, Chuck turned to look out the tiny window way up near the top of his cell. It let in just enough light so he could make out the objects around him, but it wasn't big enough to escape through even if he could find a way to get up that high. Chuck's only hope of escape was to steal some skills and make a break for it. The problem was that even when they delivered his food, every single guard had been very careful not to touch him for even a second. Some of them had even kept back five feet or more and pushed his food tray forward with a broom.
At first, Chuck thought it was just odd, but the more often it happened, the more Chuck came to believe that someone here knew what he could do and had ordered the guard to be wary of it. This, more than anything else, made Chuck sure that he was not being held for ransom.
As another day went by, Chuck watched the light from his window move across the room. A part of him wanted something to happen, but he knew if anything did happen it would probably be bad. The longer he was left here, the longer his parents would have to launch a rescue, assuming, that is, if they were still safe.
Not knowing which of his loved ones were okay and which needed his help was probably the worst part of his current situation. That and the total and complete isolation, mixed with boredom. Chuck was starting to recognize which bricks were which, by the small flaws and scratch marks on them. If he didn't get out of here soon, he felt sure he'd end up giving them names.
His morning meal had already been delivered and consumed. He knew he wouldn't get another one until nightfall so when the door of his cell suddenly opened, it jolted Chuck out of his stupor. He turned, wondering if they suddenly decided to add lunch to his day, but it wasn't just a generic guard with a tray. Oh no. This face Chuck knew he'd never forget.
"Quinn," Chuck said.
"I see you've learned my name," Quinn replied. "It's no matter. I have a job for you. If you do it, I'll let you go; if you fail…" The threat was implied, but that didn't make it any less threatening. In fact, Chuck felt pretty sure an actual end to that sentence would have significantly diminished the fear factor.
"What sort of job?" But Chuck had a pretty good idea. It had to be about his magic. He just couldn't understand how anything he could do was worth this. He had never considered his magic to be all that useful.
Quinn didn't answer, but instead gestured to someone Chuck couldn't see. Like all the interactions he'd had with the guards up till now, steps had been taken to remove the possibility of skin to skin contact. Both guards were wearing gloves up past their elbows and long sleeves to meet up with the gloves. Their pants tucked into their socks and even their faces were covered. Just their eyes were visible.
"I see you have noticed my precautions," Quinn stated as Chuck's eyes took in the guards attire. "I can't have you learning anything I don't want you to, now can I?"
"How do you know what I can do?" Chuck asked. There was no point pretending now. Quinn definitely knew. The guards before had been careful and worn gloves, but that was it. Before, it was possible Chuck had been making assumptions and gloves were part of the uniform here, but now there was no denying what this man knew.
"Let's just say a little bird told me," Quinn grinned at him. Chuck really hated the smirk on his face. More than anything he wanted to wipe that smirk off, preferably with a well landed punch to the face. Just as soon as he could magic his way into throwing one correctly.
"Can I get the name of this bird?" Chuck asked.
Quinn gave him a calm sober expression for just long enough to make Chuck think he was going to get an honest answer, before Quinn smirked again and added, "A sparrow."
Before Chuck could so much as complain, he was dragged forward by the two very well covered up guards. Chuck thought about trying to break through their armour but didn't think he'd get two seconds, let alone five, and with how worn out he was, he would probably need ten seconds on contact anyway.
So Chuck allowed himself to be led and followed without complaint. They walked him down a hall and around a corner, past both occupied and empty cells. Finally, they stopped in front of one of the cells that was occupied. Chuck couldn't quite make out the figure on the ground but he could tell there was someone there in the shadows.
Quinn ordered the cell door opened and the guards shoved Chuck inside where Chuck lost his footing and ended up face first on the ground. He heard the cell door close and lock behind him before he was able to turn around.
"Your task is to learn what he doesn't want me to know," Quinn said, from the other side of the locked cell door.
"My magic only works on skills or abilities," Chuck reminded Quinn only slightly desperately. "What exactly do you expect me to do?"
"I expect you to pull the information out of his mind against his will," Quinn explained.
"As I said I can only borrow skills," Chuck exclaimed, trying to make his point.
"If you can absorb a skill then it stands to reason you can absorb more," Quinn stated calmly. "Get to work. Alert a guard if you have anything of note to tell me." He turned to leave, but then stopped and looked at Chuck again before he added in a very threatening tone. "If you call me back here with nothing to show for it I will cut off fingers, both yours and his."
Quinn turned quickly, his cloak circling him and he walked briskly away, his guards following behind him. Leaving Chuck alone with the stranger he was supposed to magically interrogate.
For a moment, there was silence. Chuck's roommate didn't move an inch. Whoever was here was still laying on the ground near the opposite wall. Chuck couldn't help but wonder if the other person was sleeping.
Picking himself up off the ground, Chuck sat on the stone bench just behind him. To call it a bench was generous. It was more like a solid brick stone that extended from the wall, but it was the exact same solid chunk of rock Chuck had gotten used to over the last few days in his own cell. He knew how to sit on it in the least uncomfortable way, which really wasn't all that comfortable. Chuck wasn't even sure if a pillow could have made it all that much better. He never thought he'd miss sleeping on the ground in the woods, but he definitely did.
"Can you really do what he says you can do?"
The voice surprised him, pulling Chuck from his idle thoughts. It had come from the figure on the floor. Chuck turned his head to look. Whoever it was had not gotten up or raised their head. The speaking face was covered, hidden in shadow.
"Honestly, I have no idea," Chuck replied."My name's Chuck by the way."
"William," the man said. He was moving now, getting up off the floor and turning to face Chuck. The man's eyes were gaunt, he looked hollowed out, hopeless and broken, but despite all that, there was a fierce defiance in his eyes.
"What he wants I can't give," William said firmly. "So don't expect me to help you."
"This secret is really that important?" Chuck asked. "You'd risk your fingers?"
Slowly, William lifted his right hand. Once the light hit, Chuck let out a little gasp without meaning to. William's hand was missing three fingers already.
"For this secret I'd give my life," William said. "But I know that no matter how big a fuss I make, the guards are under strict orders not to kill me. I managed to provoke one, but once Quinn caught the guard beating me, he executed him on the spot." William tilted his head slightly as if surveying Chuck. "I don't suppose I could convince you to help me?"
This man had no hope of rescue, Chuck realised. He didn't believe there was any way to keep the information he held safe so long as he lived. Chuck couldn't help but guess what this man was fighting for. There was only one thing that could inspire such sacrifice.
"This is about someone you love, isn't it?" Chuck asked slowly. William merely nodded. He couldn't help thinking about how he and William had the same reasons for being here, even if they were in different ways. Chuck didn't think his life should be worth more than whoever it was William was protecting.
Moving forward slowly, Chuck whispered into William's ear, just in case the guards were listening.
"I won't try and take the information," Chuck promised. "But what can you tell me about this Quinn person?"
William pulled away so he could look at Chuck while he spoke. His voice was still quiet, but not as soft a whisper as Chuck had been using. Chuck took this to mean that William knew the guard didn't tend to listen in, or didn't care what the prisoners were discussing.
"Quinn likes to collect magic users," William explained. Chuck wasn't sure if William was taking his word or was just going along with it, and decided it didn't matter either way. Chuck had made up his mind. Hopefully they could just keep stalling until someone came to rescue him. Chuck made a mental note to make sure to get William out as well.
"And by collect you mean…"
"Enslave," William corrected. "Every person in these cells has some magical ability Quinn wants for his own use. Everyone except me that is."
"Surely there are some magical users who are too powerful to hold?" Chuck couldn't help asking.
"He tries to find them young," Quinn continued. "As young as four or five years old. He raises them to serve him and the ones that disobey end up here. When he needs their power, instead of using loyalty to get it, he uses fear."
"That's horrible." Chuck could hardly believe how evil this man was. To use children to gain power took horrible to a whole new level.
"Children in chains," William spat on the ground. "Death is too good for him."
"Agreed," Chuck replied.
Chuck was even more certain now that he shouldn't comply. If this man collected magic users, then his promise to set Chuck free was definitely a lie. If William was willing to die to protect the one he loved, who was Chuck to take that away from him. Chuck could easily surmise that the person William was protecting was a magic user of some kind. The last thing Chuck wanted to do was force anyone else to live in this hellish place.
For the first time in his life, Chuck was grateful for his parents over-protectiveness. He couldn't help but think what his life could have been like otherwise. If Quinn had learned of Chuck's power as a child, Chuck could have found himself raised by the evil man. The idea sent a shiver down Chuck's spine. An adult slave has the will to fight in a way a beaten child doesn't. He couldn't help but wonder how old the other prisoners here were. He hadn't really given it a thought until now. And how long had Quinn been collecting magic users?
Then Chuck thought about the history books he'd read describing magic users employed by the king. When had that ended and could it have been this Quinn's fault, or maybe someone like? Were his efforts the only reason everyone today thought magic was so rare?
Magic was supposed to be innate. Not something that could be stolen, borrowed or transferred, and yet somehow that was what this man had done. He'd turned magic into a slave trade, hiding it away from the world.
Bit of an info dump chapter - sorry not sorry - but there were a couple things Chuck was obviously going to discover once he was captured. The question now is how will the rescue go? As always I'd love to hear your thoughts. :) I am enjoying this faster update speed. Not writing for almost a year just sucked. Those babies are so lucky they are so adorable!