Ty’s words came back to me about keeping my food safe, and I searched for a spot to hide a portion of my feast treasure.
I nibbled on brak—Dyter’s specialty, a forlorn part of me reminisced—and studied my small cell. All stone, and the only place I could find to hide anything was by my bed and under my blankets. I sat on my bed, munching on bread and brushing the specs of grain off my lap and onto the stone. I regretted wasting the seeds, as small a food source as they were. A quick feel told me the grains were lost to the cracks in the stone floor. And actually, on second thought, my blood was still splattered all over the cell from Jotun’s belt whipping.
The soap queen had not fallen that far.
I grimaced, scanning every stony brick of the cell. Even a toddler would know by simply looking at my room that anything of value would be stashed by my bed, which made it a terrible hiding place. The only other object in my entire cell was the straw and the chamber pot. I’d long since moved the pot to the front of my cell so I could dump the contents out into the hall instead of having to deal with it in my room. It had been the only option when the receptacle was full several days ago. The smell was atrocious, but by the next morning, the hall had been rinsed clean.
Tyr’s handsome smile flashed in my mind, and I seriously hoped he hadn’t been the one to clean up the mess.
I was desperate to keep my food bounty, but the only idea I’d had, besides hiding it by my bed, was repulsive. Maybe repulsive was good. I thought of the oiled cloth from the first time someone had left me food, and fingering the material under my bed, I hoped the cloth would be enough of a barrier.
I scattered the smelly straw around the chamber pot and took the wrapped package of food and the flagon of nectar and put them in the darkest corner of the room, the space I’d initially used as a bathroom. The pot was several paces away, but the very idea made me cringe.
Hopefully my hiding place would make anyone planning to take my food cringe, too.
The victory was small.
But for the first time, I felt like I might be starting to play the game.
15
Ty didn’t return that day.
I couldn’t tell if it was Tuesday or not, but Jotun didn’t return for me either. I’d overheard Lord Irrik say I’d been here three weeks. Did that mean I’d been here a month now?
A month since my mother died. Moons, but I missed her. Ty filled the hole somewhat, but no one could ever replace my mother.
Somewhere in the middle of wondering why Jotun opted to have Tuesday off out of all seven days, I must have drifted off again in a sleep that wasn’t sleep at all. I tossed and turned, imagining Lord Irrik in my cell, and the king, and then both of them laughing at me. Dyter appeared, and even Mum, her face in anguish as she tried to comfort me. The knife was pushed into her chest. Then the king’s Drae pulled it out and handed it to me.
When I awoke, someone was brushing my arm in a cool caress.
“Tyr,” I mumbled.
Keeping my eyes closed, I relished the gentle contact, but my arm was stiff from being flung up over my head. My aching muscles screamed to move, and I withdrew my arm from his attention. As I moved, the brush of his fingers tickled, and I giggled, opening my eyes.
My lips parted, and it took me a while to understand I was still in my cell.
A dark circle, almost as big as my face, hovered right above me, and there were pale petals of yellow surrounding it. I blinked, and the anemic sunflower came into focus. The giant flower had fallen over and hovered directly over my head.
Inhaling through my nose, I almost choked on the smell of fresh vegetation.
In. My. Dungeon. Cell.
I pushed the sunflower away and sat up.
I’d finally broken. It was the only explanation.
Surrounding me was a tiny garden. Barley grass, wheat, and a small stalk of corn had sprouted from the meager dirt layer between the stones. Other plants I didn’t recognize had begun a doomed life cycle, wilting in the darkness of the cell. Not believing my eyes, I ran my hand over the spikes of the barley, and the thin plants tilted and fell, their roots in the stone of the dungeon cell inadequate to sustain them. I picked up a shoot and bent the tender stalk.
What made them grow?
Yesterday, I ate bread with these exact seeds on it. Today, the same seeds were full-grown.
I stood in the middle of my cell, spinning on the spot.
The moss yesterday. The patch hadn’t been that big the day before, not even a patch at all. Now I was sure of it, though I’d been puzzled when Tyr held it out to me. There was something wrong with this dungeon cell.
“Ryn?” Ty rasped, making me jump. “You still alive?”
“I’m here,” I answered, looking down at my shredded shift. “Are you al’right? You’ve been out for a long time.”
He coughed. “I’ll live. Jotun found out we’re sharing food.”
“He won’t move you away, will he?” I asked, holding my breath.
“I can’t say,” Ty answered. “I told him I wouldn’t share with you again.” He paused. “Do you have any food?”
I laughed under my breath. “Such rebellious tendencies.”
“It goes with my rugged, dark looks.”
“Is that what you look like?” I asked. “Dark hair, dark eyes, a beard?”
He was surprised. “Yes, how did you know?”
“I have powers you wouldn’t believe.” I glanced at the garden in my room.
Crossing to the chamber pot, I could just see the outline of the flagon of nectar.
I unplugged the cork and drank several gulps before forcing myself to stop. I found the oiled cloth behind the clay flask and unwrapped it and the burlap cloth beneath. The cheese was salty and dry, and the dense, nutty bread dissolved in my mouth, leaving several whole grains to grind with my teeth.
My gaze landed on the plants by my blanket as I chewed. Pumpkin. Barley. Kamut. Pursing my lips, I shook a few of the seeds from the loaf I held into a far corner, not touched by the current crop.
“Do you want some cheese and bread?” I asked Ty. “If you have an extra container, I can pour you some nectar.”
“Some what?”
“Nectar. The fruity drink we get. I don’t know what else to call it. It’s kind of like mead.” Dyter had never served anything like it, nor had Mum.
He chuckled. “No, but thank you. I have some of the drink left. Do you have enough?”
I sighed, looking at my dark cell. The phosphorus glow cast an eerie light, and the fronds and leaves looked sad and pathetic in the dark.
“Someone left more for me,” I answered. “A friend, I think.” It was as close as I’d come to telling him about Tyr.
Awareness of my situation struck me. Besides the obvious ongoing torture-and-death problems, I was in serious trouble right now.
As I crouched to pass the food to Ty, I said, “Hey, Ty? Have you ever had plants grow in your cell?”
He snorted. “What?”
“Like, you go to sleep and wake up with a sunflower by your head, that kinda thing?” I asked. “It’s just, how would they grow in here? It’s so dark and . . .”