The plan turned out to be a lot of hopes put on one kid we barely knew and that Percy swore she’d seen while we were brought here. She heard a voice calling outside the window the night before. She was absolutely certain it was him. Noah.

“Even if he’s here, what the hell is a kid supposed to do to get us out?” It made no sense. “He doesn’t even dare look at his dad, he’s not gonna defy Hans. At best he’ll bring us a squirrel if I taught him right.”

Percy smiled. “A squirrel would be better than whatever they’re putting in their stew. These guys could use a cooking lesson or ten. And I know, Tam. He isn’t the hero type. But he’s the only one who might even want to try. If he’s out there, he’ll come back. I’ll talk to him then. I’ll need you to help me up that window so I don’t need to shout.”

She was right, what choice was there? I could only hope it wouldn’t last for hours, my back was still hurting. And other parts of my body I hadn’t told Percy about. But she probably knew. She was conscious all along, after all.

He didn’t come that night, or at least we didn't hear him call. The other prisoners knew about our plan, obviously. Not much privacy in those cells. But they were too curious to tell on us. Foul Mouth told us he’d help if we brought him along, but there was no way to know if that was even possible. He still agreed to keep it shut and we promised we’d try. That was enough. We waited, all of us, feeling weirdly close by the shared secret. We still didn’t communicate much but the atmosphere was different. Expecting. Almost hopeful.

It was three long nights and longer days of waiting before Percy was proved right.

We got used to keeping our ears peeled towards what our gaolers called a window. The town was never silent, as minions came and went about their Asshole in Chief's business. There was a constant background noise of screams and supposedly evil laughs interspersed with cries. An explosion here and there to complete this auditory surrealist atmosphere. Salvador Dali would have loved it.  

The kid's voice cracked as he called, and if it hadn't we probably wouldn't have noticed him. Too soft, too low, too scared. Blended in the sounds of human insanity too well. But it did, and we did, and Percy pushed me under the window and climbed onto my shoulders without a word.