Rain dripped from the torch post onto the base of an overturned metal bucket below. Drip. Drip. It banged louder than any drum and echoed as if it stood in an empty room. Ry begged to cover his ears and hide from the clattering sound. It was more torture listening to that than the whip lashes he'd received on his back.

Five days, or at least he thought it was five days. Time seemed to have slowed to a dead crawl from the moment the stockade closed around his wrists and head. He didn't know how long it would take a person to starve to death, but judging by the snarling beast taking residence in his stomach, he wondered if he was close.

It had rained every day since he was first locked up. Where the guards refused him food and water, Ry at least could tilt is head as much as possible and collect water on his tongue, or let it run into his mouth from his face. He thanked the Gods for the rain. A cough tore at his lungs. While the rain helped him, the frigid air did nothing.

By the Gods, maybe I'll die from hypothermia first, Ry thought. His knees had long since gone from hurting to no longer having feeling in them. Even if his ankles hadn't been bound by another block of wood, he wouldn't have been able to stand and stretch.

For the first few days, Ry begged villagers to release him, to help him, anything. Nobody did. They didn't give him so much as a wink or a nod. Their eyes stayed cast down to the ground as they shuffled by in silence. He was nothing to them, another tortured soul. They knew, despite the guards not being seen, they were ever present. Ry prayed to the Gods Kira would be smart enough not to take the bait. He couldn't live with himself if she'd been captured for being foolish enough to attempt a rescue.

The sound of footsteps plodded through the mud. Ry had no energy to lift his head and look. There was no point. He figured they weren't there to help. He closed his eyes; hoping sleep would take him that night. It had failed for three nights in a row and Ry was sure he was seeing things. One day a bird made of sparkling sand fluttered over his head, sprinkling him with sand that seemed to fill his body with a temporary energy.

The footsteps grew louder until they stopped beside him. Ry turned his head to one side. A hooded figured stood next to him. When the figure knelt beside him he realized it was a woman.

"My name is Demitra," she said. Her eyes darted past him to gaze toward an alley. "I don't have much time before the idiots notice the few lights illuminating you are out."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small marble. It illuminated her palm with a faint green as the color swirled with a metallic white within. Her fingers closed around the marble, the glow continued to seep through them. Again her eyes moved to the alley before she slipped the marble into Ry's pocket.

"That marble contains a bit of my magic. With that, I can find you anywhere. Tomorrow the guards will come for you and take you to the castle. They realize now Kira won't come for you."

"Kira?" Ry's voice cracked to the point he didn't recognize it as his at first. He strained to continue holding his head in position to glance at her.

"Shh, save your energy. There is nothing I can do to help with that without being caught. Kira is fine. She's with Addrick heading to New Calandria. When the time is right, I will free you and take you to her. For now, you must be strong, human."

Ry frowned. "I'm not sure being with Addrick is any consolation."

Demitra laughed. "No, I suppose it wouldn't be. Addrick is cold, with good reason, but there is nobody else you'd rather have on your side. Stay strong, human. There are still rough days to come."

"Rylanne. My name is Rylanne."

"I know who you are. It's better to have no attachment to you right now." Her body stiffened as her eyes drifted back to the alley. "I must go. The idiots stir."

She closed her eyes and lowered to all fours. Her thin body ballooned outward while her dark cloak became spotted by the hide of a cow. Hands and feet turned to hooves while her once pleasant face fattened into the head which matched her cow body. Ry sighed. It was the second time he watched a body contort into an animal and it made him queasy.

A guard stomped out of the alley, stopping near a torch hanging from a porch to look around. "Oie! Who you be talking to?"

"Myself. I need some entertainment, unless you'd like to dance for me, big boy." Ry wasn't sure if the guard could see him, but he winked and blew him a kiss anyway. The guard's eyes drifted to the cow. "This is my friend, Bessie. She wants to dance with you, too."

"You be quiet now. We be leaving to take you to the Princess tomorrow. She be wanting answers about your assassination of her father."

"Neither me nor Kira had anything to do with that."

"I said shut your trap!"

Demitra moo'd when Ry opened his mouth to speak again. She bit on his ear, hard enough to hurt. He swallowed his grunt, keeping silent. As the guard went back into the alley, Ry turned to look at Demitra, wishing he could rub his swore ear. Air pushed from the cow's nose before she moo'd again. Somehow, Ry knew she was mocking the pain she caused him.

"I get it. Don't push my luck."

Demitra nodded and walked away. Her hooves sunk in the muddy ground of the path leading out to the farmlands. She vanished into the night like a ghost.

"Just me, myself, and my thoughts. And my thoughts are never pretty."

Ry closed his eyes as his head dropped in the stock. Rain continued to fall until the morning when the guards came from their hiding spaces. When they released him from the stock, Ry crumpled to the ground. One of the guards had Ry's swords strapped to his back and Ry planned multiple ways on grabbing them as the guard dragged him to a prison wagon. However, his energy wouldn't allow for any attack.

Bars lined all sides of the rolling jail, open and inviting anyone to torment the prisoner within. Two guards hoisted Ry up and tossed him in his traveling cage. Still no food or water waited for him, he knew they'd continue to starve him for the duration of their journey. It didn't seem to matter if he survived it.

He slumped against the bars, unable to do anything else. Their caravan trudged slowly through the village, guards armed with weapons marched on either side, forming a parade. Only those with a higher status rode on horseback, the rest were forced to march by foot. Ry winced at the thought. By horseback the castle was days away, by foot it could take a month or more. His eyes turned to the man he thought might be their general.

"You know," he said, "if I die before we get to the castle, the Princess won't be happy. Kira will be hard to coax out as is, but kill me and you might as well forget getting her. I need food and water."

The general smiled and leaned down in his saddle to whisper into the ear of another. He joined the smile before shuffling off to a bin of garbage. Ry held back a gag as the man pulled out a loaf of bread and wilted lettuce. Without a word, he tossed it into the cage. Worms crawled over the lettuce and mold spotted the bread. The beast within his stomach stirred from both disgust and hunger.

"Eat up, pretty boy." The general tugged on his horse's reins and trotted to the head of the parade. Ry gritted his teach and tore apart the bread. One foot kicked the lettuce outside the bars. While the bread was disgusting, it at least was food. As the days rolled into the next, the guards would give him another small morsel of food, usually something dropped on the ground or half finished. It was enough to keep him alive, but not enough to offer any nourishment.

The cage was his home, they wouldn't let him out even to take a piss. He curled in a corner as it swayed and rocked over the rough terrain. Men laughed at him or spit on him as they marched onward. He didn't have the energy to give them his usual witty comebacks. Both arms wrapped around his legs, using his body to stay warm when the temperature dropped. Ry's fingers traced the wood planks lining the bottom of the cage. Black mold grew between cracks and the wood smelt rotten, but he used them as entertainment. From one mold spot to another, he drew what he thought to be faces or objects. It became a challenge to create a picture by connecting the dots.

Wheels creaked and snapped over stone, adding to the misery he already felt. Exhaustion and starvation strengthened the sounds ringing through his ears. His stomach churned with pain. Between when they left the village, to when the guards were dragging him by his arms into the castle dungeon, Ry lost all track of time. The sun rose, the moon set, rains fell, sun shined—all of it became a single blob. Once inside the dank musk of the dungeon, he lost any awareness of day or night.

Time wasn't relevant to the damned.

Water dripped through cracks in the wall, creating a stream winding around the dungeon ground. First thing Ry did was drag his weary body near the water and drank as much of the muddy liquid as he could. Then he curled up and waited for the torture to end. But it never did. Guards came to take away other prisoners, but never him. Ry was left to rot.

"Get up, Ry." Kira's voice called out to him, but he knew it was a lie. She couldn't be in the dungeon.

He rolled over on the cold, hard cobblestones. Moans from other prisoners joined in chorus with the dripping of water. Ry tightened into a ball with a shudder. Fever ravished him, keeping his mind in a haze. Lungs rattled with every cough. Hands brushed his forehead, but he had no strength to open his eyes. He thought they were just another illusion to go with Kira's voice.

"Dammit, Rylanne. If you die on me, so help me, I'm raising you from the dead just to kill you again," Kira shouted.

Ry shook from his forced laugh. "Kira, I'm sorry."

"Guards! Guards!" At first he heard Kira shout again, but then her voice faded and merged with one foreign to him. "I refuse to be in a cell with a disgusting filth that's dying. I demand to speak with the Princess! This is a mistake!"

Ry finally opened his eyes. A girl in a torn pink dress pressed herself against the bars. Torch light did little to illuminate her. Disheveled dark hair curled over her shoulders. Guards sat at the end of a narrow corridor running between cells, ignoring the girl's pleas.

"This is absurd! You cannot keep me here. This boy is dying and I demand he is removed from my sight this instant!" She stomped a foot on the ground.

A chair scooted against the ground as one of the guards rose from the table. He grabbed a bucket and stomped toward their cell. Ry pushed to a seat, his arms threatening to buckle under him. When the guard reached the cell, he tossed the bucket's contents at the girl. Her shrill cry bounced off the walls, bringing the dungeon to life. Fellow prisoners shouted, banging metal cups on the bars, and making the cells sound as though they were filled with thousands of people.

"Shut yer yap! Ye no longer have authority." The guard turned away.

"When the Princess hears about this," she mumbled. One hand pulled fish bones and tails from her hair. "Ew."

"Good plan," Ry said through his coughs. "Get them to remove me and get drenched in leftovers in the process."

Her eyes pointed. "Don't you dare talk to me, peasant."

"Peasant? Great. I'm locked in a cell with . . ." His eyes trailed up and down her body. Though the light was dull and she was covered in grime, he recognized her when she turned to face him. The Princess of Morag or at least a striking resemblance to her. There's no way the actual princess would be locked in a cell with him.

She continued to mutter as she moved to one stone wall and slid down to sit. A small pile of hay rested in the corner with a blanket filled with holes. It was more than he'd had his entire trip and he found himself envious of it. The Princess look alike sighed and reached into the pile to pull two dinner rolls from within. She threw one at Ry before biting into the other. He stared at her, unsure of what to say, but hunger won as he devoured the roll in almost a single bite.

"What? No milk?" he asked.

"Do I look like I have milk? Be grateful I saved that from my last meal with Rodyn." A smile twisted on his lips as his eyes drifted from her round face to her bosom. She screamed and wrapped her arms over her chest. "You're disgusting!"

Ry shrugged. "If I'm going to die, at least I can die happy."

"You will never get my milk."

Ry pushed himself against the wall, using it to hold him upright. The Princess look alike played with the hem of her dress, keeping her eyes away from him. Silence between them was broken up only by the still noisy prisoners in other cells. Guards shouted at them for silence and Ry had to agree with them. The prisoner's hollers gave him a headache.

"I didn't kill the king," he said.

She flinched before looking at him. "That's Princess Sabina if you're going to address me."

"Except you aren't the princess, are you? You're just the stand in for public appearances. Is Sabina even your real name or did they strip away your identity so much you honestly think you're the princess?"

She didn't answer.

Ry sighed. "Fine. I didn't kill the king, Princess Sabina."

Sabina's lips twitched. "I know. Rodyn did. Somehow he has the real princess wrapped around his little finger and she wouldn't listen to reason. It all happened so fast. I was in my room, dying my hair. Rodyn caught me and for some reason, it angered him. That rampage set him on a fit that both landed me here and the king in a casket."

Sabina grabbed the frayed edges of her hair. Gone from the girl sitting in the cell with him was the likeness that made her impossible to distinguish from the princess. It wasn't uncommon for the royal families to take in look alikes to stand in their place for many public appearances. They were raised and trained to be the royal in every way from the way they look to how they dressed. This Sabina no longer had any of that. Impeccable posture was replaced with a distinct slump. Groomed nails were as dark as the grime on the floor. In that moment, Ry could say with the utmost certainty he understood how she felt.

"What color is your hair?"

"I've been cursed with the hair of a Wilder. Filthy, disgusting creatures."

"What did the Wilders ever do to you? They're harmless nomads." Though Ry now understood they were far more than nomads, he couldn't say that to the princess look alike.

"Not that it's any concern of yours, peasant, but the Wilders tried to kidnap me as a child! That's why the queen said my hair turned to fire and I had to dye it. Their filth contaminated me. After he saw me dying it, Rodyn grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to the throne room." Sabina released her hair and hugged herself, rocking in place. "He ordered the guards to leave us with the king. I'd never seen such anger; it was like he was steaming from every pore. His grip left my arm left blistered."