Chapter Text
The smell of sea’s salt and fish whiff with overwhelming intensity into Caleb’s nostrils.
White foam crashes into sand, pulls back and crashes again.
(black beneath the waves)
The sound is almost deafening.
(do you remember...? do you remember how it feels just to sink and sink and sink beneath those waves?)
A tremor goes through Caleb’s body, and he has to look away.
You are not welcome here.
“Caleb?”
Nott’s nervous voice wrenches Caleb back to reality.
“Yes! Yes, apologies, what is it?” he startles and cringes inwardly how panicked he sounds.
Nott blinks, a little taken aback.
“Sorry - didn’t mean to sneak. Kinda. ‘s just... the camp’s done? They got fire going and everything.” Her attention drifts to the sea, the rolling waves, pushing and pulling. “It’s...kinda scary, isn’t it?” she says hesitantly.
Heaviness settles in Caleb’s chest, and it feels old. He feels so old.
“It is”, he murmurs.
“I mean, ‘s so big. Nowhere to run. Or - or swim. I guess. If you can. And everything in it wants to eat you or drown you”, she points out very matter-of-factly.
“No, no, I’m not arguing with you, you are absolutely right.”
The scent of salt makes his gut twist unpleasantly. But his fondness for Nott overwhelms everything else so he just says: “Do you know there are fish near the sea floor that have glowing antlers on them?”
Nott looks particularly disturbed by that. “Why?”
“To lure little fish in. To eat.”
Caleb mimics a gaping maw with his fingers.
Nott grimaces.
“Ew, see? Terrifying, why do they need to have lights? Really unnecessary, like the sea isn’t terrible enough.”
Caleb snorts a laugh, genuinely amused. He can feel the knots in his stomach grow lighter already.
(sea doesn’t pull, won’t pull)
“Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere near them”, he says fondly.
She still glances the sea a little nervously as if expecting it to spit some deep sea creatures at her.
“Oh, geez, I really hope not...”
Shuddering she tugs his sleeve, and with that, they head back to the camp.
(away from the roar of the sea, it’s call, gulls screeching and it all pierces through caleb’ heart)
He’s glad for the group, at that moment. So relieved and so glad he could not tell them with words.
In the camp Beau is pestering a very grumpy Mollymauk when Yasha will join them (“I don’t know! She does this sometimes, I don’t know, Beau, please get off my back, she’ll join us when she can!”)
Jester’s tracing the map’s faded ink lines with her finger, murmuring quietly under her breath, making plans, longing, wondering and worrying all in equal measures.
Fjord furrows his brow by the fire, the golden-red glow reflecting from his eyes like he’s wondering something with a heavy heart.
(are you all right?)
After a beat of hesitation, Caleb decides to sit beside Fjord and because words fail and tangle in his mouth, he fishes out a book from his coat.
Fjord shakes out from his ponderings, blinks slowly. “Hey. Did ya find anythin’ interesting there?”
“Oh, by the beach?”
“Mmh.”
“Uh, no. Seaweed, but nothing alarming.”
Fjord’s mouth quirks into a teasing grin. “No sea monsters wavin’ at you, then?”
“I’ll make sure to wave back next time”, Caleb answers mildly.
That makes Fjord laugh, his eyes crinkled with joy, and Caleb’s heart skips a beat, jolts and goes into a very uneven rhythm.
Pleased warmth spreads through Caleb’s chest.
(it feels good. to make someone laugh.)
“I don’t think we gotta worry ‘bout sea monsters tonight”, Fjord says, still grinning.
“Very disappointing, I was really looking forward of seeing one”, Caleb says and catches a look on Fjord’s gaze; bright amber and affectionate and warm..
What has he ever done to deserve such a look?
“Let’s keep our fingers crossed, yeah?”
“You have a deal.”
+
Night falls.
Everybody sleeps.
Caleb slips quietly into the shadows and returns to the beach.
It’s cold and bleak.
He stands, breathes shakily, undresses and wades into the waves.
The water is icy cold and violent; it throws and surrounds him, ready to pull him under, ready to drown him, but Caleb knows the sea’s tricks and will not surrender to such a death.
(it’s mockery, ironic, wouldn’t you agree?)
(very fitting, young widogast)
Cruel playing.
The salty taste is familiar on his lips, the smell of seaweed and fish lodges painful memories in his head, but this is hollow.
No answer. No call beneath the waves.
Just darkness.
Just ready to drown him, at the slightest mistake.
You are not welcome here. This place is not for you.
I know, Caleb thinks and the loss stings between his ribs, even after all this time.
He buries his fingers into his wet hair, rubs his scalp, and stares at his bare, pale skin like it would somehow change, but no. No such luck.
(of course not. life does not hand out miracles cheaply)
Caleb rubs the grime and dust from his skin, submerges himself below the waves, and there’s nothing but darkness, just nothing that happens, his lungs protest and burn and he has to go back up.
(what did you expect?)
Caleb feels silly, tricked, like a naïvely hopeful child. Embarrassed and heart heavy, he returns to the beach, dresses up and goes back to the camp, sneaks back to his bedroll and falls asleep.
+
He dreams of black water and cold, cold, cold on his skin, too bare, too thin, too not-there.
+
“So... did ya enjoy your random midnight skinny dip?” Beau drones out of nowhere and Caleb chokes in his coffee.
Her blue eyes are sharp, suspicious.
Others blink.
“You went for a swim?” Jester squeals. “At night? Was it awful? Did the seaweeds touch your leg? Because that’s... that’s the worst.”
“’Cause it’s never just seaweed”, Nott points out seriously.
“Um, no - I - “ Terribly flustered, Caleb clears his throat. “Yes, I - I did. I wanted to try it”, he deadpans, throwing a flat look at Jester.
“At night?” Beau drawls and takes a sip of her tea. “Why would you do that, at night?”
“It was dark - no, you are absolutely right, I’m lying, I was plotting to kill all of you”, Caleb deadpans.
Fjord snorts.
Beau squints suspiciously at Caleb.
Jester giggles. “Nooo, you weren’t.”
“No, I wasn’t. I could not sleep, did not want to disturb anyone so I went for a swim. It’s been a while since I have done that. So, yes, I was plotting your murders, thank you very much.”
Beau still scowls, narrowing her eyes, but Fjord asks, amusement laced in his deep baritone:
“Any sea monsters this time?”
“See, it’s never seaweed”, Nott says and waves her toast at them.
“No, unfortunately, I - um, managed to evade that sort of thing. This time. Though, I’m starting to think you want me to see a sea monster”, Caleb points out and can’t help but be gently teasing.
Fjord’s amber eyes light up and flicker, and his mouth turns into a smirk, lazy and languid.
“Well, I suppose it depends what kinda monster it is...” he drawls, his voice dropping an octave lower, and shivering, Caleb feels his stomach jolt. Rosy red hue spreads on his cheeks.
Not good.
(gulls screech. stop. stop. you are not good or whole or there enough for anything to - )
He downs the coffee. It tastes bitter.
“Did you like it?” Nott asks very carefully, so low that the others can’t hear her, but the question is innocent enough.
Caleb clears his throat, fiddles with the cup, trying to distract himself from the gnawing feeling under his skin.
“W - well, yes and no, I just... it’s not the same, certainly.”
Nott grimaces. “I’m sorry we didn’t get it, when we escaped.”
“I know, it’s not your fault. We were in a hurry. There were more... pressing issues, at the time.”
“Like fire. But still, it’s still makin’ me itchy, ‘cause we missed it...” She nibbles her bacon with a faraway look in her yellow eyes. “We could - turn around to get it?”
“Ach, it’s too far. It’s a wonderful idea, but it’s... it’s not worth it right now. When we have the opportunity and time and resources, then perhaps we could try it that way. But now? No.”
“Oh, okay. I just... I’m worried about you. It’s not okay, it’s awful and really wrong, it’s not how you want it to be - “
“Sure, but - there are bigger problems than any of mine.” Caleb softens his voice. “Thank you, but you really shouldn’t worry so much. I’m fine, I swear to you.”
She eyes him. Then, finally, she says faintly: “Okay. But you’d tell me if anything changes, right?”
“Absolutely”, Caleb promises and this time, it’s not a lie, it’s not a hollow half-truth. He will desperately try to keep this promise as well as he can. She deserves everything good and kind and decent.
She beams.
It’s all right.
+
Behind them, the sea gulls scream.
+
Caleb is worried about Fjord; the half orc seems rattled, on edge when they return to the road. Though Caleb understands; throwing up salt water, sea water, is not a very reassuring thing to anyone.
Fjord’s shoulders are tensed, his neck stiff, and the way he curls into himself, into deep thoughts strikes a painful chord in Caleb.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concerned.
Fjord flinches until he realizes who is talking, but he still doesn’t relax. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m all right. Don’t worry ‘bout me”, he grunts.
Caleb has told that lie enough times to know when someone else is telling it.
“You don’t have to tell me”, he says softly, “but if sometime you want to, I’m willing to listen. Whatever it is. Okay?”
Fjord’s hard carved expression softens slightly. “Thanks, Caleb, I appreciate it. That’s kind of you.”
Caleb’s skin heats up under that warm gaze, and he berates himself for reacting like a giddy teenager.
“I want to help. However I can. With any questions you have, whatever is bothering you, I’m here.”
He’s startled to realize just much he means this; sincerity bleeds from his lips, and he’s ready to help, ready to defend, and it’s such an overwhelming realization that strikes him with strange clarity.
Fjord bows his head a little, as if mulling it over in his head, and when he looks up, his smile is so heartbreakingly soft, gentle.
“Thank you.”
+
“Does the sea make ya uncomfortable?”
Fjord’s question almost makes Caleb freeze.
(they are far enough from the beach, the gulls are silent now, far enough from it all that he doesn’t wince anymore.)
“Sometimes”, Caleb answers a little hesitantly. “Nott made some... excellent points about it’s vastness and things in it that want to eat you, and to be honest, she’s not really wrong.”
Fjord shakes his head. “No”, he says, almost growling. “She is not.”
A shadow falls on his face, and Caleb’s breathing hitches.
Something is wrong. Something -
“Yet you defied it all by goin’ swimmin’.”
“A - good point, yes. I wasn’t lying, though, I wanted to go. It’s been a while.” Caleb rubs his cold hands. “And you? Does it make you uncomfortable?”
For a moment - for one, horrifying moment Fjord looks like he’s in agony. Then it passes like it’s never been there, but Caleb is left with a sickening worry for him.
What is going on?
“Heh, it’d make me a goddamn fool not to be terrified of it. Really treacherous, the sea, ain’t it. Things go badly, really fast if you’re not careful enough.”
Caleb hesitates. “Sometimes it’s not in your control”, he murmurs. He remembers how the sea rolled and stormed and tore ships apart, how furious it’d been on that night, when he....
“Definitely not. We’re a small bunch on those waves, ridin’ up, yeah? Not much control or luck. We’re just... goin’ with it, prayin’ it’ll somehow end up in our favor.”
“Often it doesn’t.”
“Yeah. Lucky us.”
They walk in silence.
Suddenly Fjord stops him, and Caleb turns, surprised.
“Look, I - I gotta apologize. Didn’t mean to get all gloomy on you, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I’m sorry.”
Caleb’s eyes widen. “I told you I’m willing to listen, being gloomy doesn’t matter. You have all the right to feel however you want.”
Fjord has not expected that, his eyes widen, and he looks flustered.
“Y - yeah, well...” He clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
+
Finally they arrive to Zadash.
It’s colourful and busy and constant; tangible with passing people, chattering and laughing and yelling, and Caleb’s anxiety flares up, crawls into his neck and he instantly feels jittery.
Jester is eager to get to the closest post office and drags Nott behind her; Beau, who is bored out of her skull, decides to accompany them, balancing her staff on her shoulders. Mollymauk watches after them with a frown and mutters:
“Oh, what the hell. Why not. Let’s just split up in a city we don’t know. What a marvellous idea, it’s a wonder we haven’t died yet.” He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose like he’s developing a headache. ”How about we find an inn?”
“Seems to be our usual drill”, Fjord says wryly.
They find an inn. It’s a bit fancier than what they usually pick, but this time they have coin for it. Caleb appreciates how clean it is and loves the pure lavender scent.
“All right, now that we have a roof above our heads for a night or two, I’m going to have a drink”, Mollymauk announces. “Preferably multiple.”
“Fair enough, go for it”, Fjord nods and glances at Caleb. “How ‘bout you? Shoppin’?”
“At some point, certainly”, Caleb answers calmly, not at all bothered by the playfulness in Fjord’s tone. “But right now, I - I much prefer sitting a bit.”
Fjord frowns. “You doing okay?”
“Good grief”, Mollymauk mutters, rolling his eyes as he decides he’s not getting paid enough to deal with them and makes his way back to the counter.
Fjord and Caleb ignore him. “I’m all right, just tad tired”, Caleb replies and he’s not sure if it’s affection and amusement lacing through his voice.
“Yeah, okay, I get that.”
Maybe he does. It seems to be a recurring theme.
Caleb sits by the fire to get warm and maybe to leaf through his books.
Usually that makes him drowsy and content, his safe haven, the way for him to relax, but this time he can’t help but notice a strange sort of buzz gnaw and prickle at his skin.
It makes him jittery, his nerves pull and fray and unravel, and uneasy feeling curls in the pit of his stomach.
It takes him a few beats to comprehend what it really means, and suddenly he gets it and all blood rushes out of his face.
Oh, no. Oh, no -
Eyes wide in utter terror, he stops breathing.
It means -
It means -
Oh gods. It’s here. It’s here, and that probably means he’s here, and -
Panic surges into his throat, leaving him trembling, so cold, and he can almost hear gulls screeching -
“Well, you look like you are ready to hurl”, Mollymauk’s voice filters through, and Caleb shoots on his feet, eyes wide.
Mollymauk tenses at the sudden movement and frowns.
“What’s wrong?”
“I - I’m - I’m not sure, but I - “ Breathing strangling in his throat, Caleb looks wildly at Mollymauk. “I’m so sorry, I need to check out something - “
“Hey, wait a minute - “
“I’m sorry, I - I need to do something - “
Without stopping, Caleb rushes out of the inn, blood rushing in his ears, like a drum.
+
He runs, runs and runs through alleys and streets, his panic now overdriving his rising anxiety, heart pounding like a hammer against his ribs -
Why? Why is he here? He shouldn’t be here, he’s got it with him, no, no, no -
All this time they have spent on running away, escaping and evading, and it’s all been in vain -
Breathing harshly, chest heaving painfully, Caleb stops. Stops to scan the city - to that painfully familiar magic that belongs to him, that’s always been his, will never stop being his, and it’s been so long since he’s felt it -
Where are you?
He can’t find it.
That’s the whole thing, isn’t it. The root of the whole problem.
It would’ve been so much easier if he could locate it, find it, but the world doesn’t really work like that and magic doesn’t really work like that, and he knows it.
Caleb bites his lower lip, thinks feverishly.
The enchantment burns his chest. Almost like to taunt him how close he is, but not really.
Caleb grits his teeth.
Frumpkin settles on his shoulder, chirping.
“I know”, Caleb manages to say. “I have to borrow your eyes for a bit, friend. Do you mind?”
The sparrow chirps again - and flutters to the sky.
Caleb hides himself behind some barrels in a dark alleyway, sits down and breathing deeply, looks through Frumpkin’s eyes at Zadash.
Rooftops, temples, marketplaces -
Where could he be?
Brothel, tavern, inn, guard barracks?
Frumpkin flies low, trying to see everything, people, crown guards, maybe he’s there - ?
It’s close now, he knows it is, but how will he get there, wherever it might be? How much does he have to blackmail and con and swindle to get even a hint of wherever he is?
With a heavy heart, Caleb pulls back into his own body to -
“ - aleb? Caleb?!”
He wakes up to see Nott’s worried eyes - her lips are trembling.
“What happened, what are you doing here, are you okay, oh gods, what happened to you?” she panics.
“I’m all right - easy, it’s all right. I’m okay”, Caleb grunts, his head reeling a bit in vertigo.
Nott examines him nervously. “You’re upset. Why are you upset?” she whispers.
Caleb hates to burden her with his problems - that are completely his fault, anyway, she shouldn’t suffer for those - but she’s his friend and he owes her so much, at least honesty.
So he sighs. “It’s here. The warden is here.”
Nott’s jaw drops. “What? Did you see him, where is he? How do you know?”
Caleb taps his sternum.
“This lit up. So it means it’s near, so he has to be here, right?”
Nott bites her lip, worrying and restless. “Are you sure? He might’ve...sold it?”
Caleb chokes out a dark laugh. “Giving up any power over me? Unlikely.” He shudders, fidgets with his fingers. “He would keep it.” Like a trophy.
“If - if you’re sure. What do you wanna do? We don’t know where he is?”
“We - might - ask around?”
“You don’t think that’s kinda suspicious?”
“It is - it definitely is, but... I don’t think we can get another chance. I’m so sorry, Nott, but - I don’t think I can let this pass.”
“No, no, I get it, I totally get it! I’m helping you!”
“Oh. Thank you.” Caleb pauses. “What are you doing here, though, I thought you were with Jester and Beau?”
She looks sheepish. “Yeah, I was, but I wanted to window-shop a bit - they were okay with it, she got the letter from her Mom, I think? Then - then I think I saw Frumpkin, but then I wasn’t sure ‘cause there are probably a lot of sparrows, and then I saw you spacing out here, what if someone saw you?”
“Well, I’m - I’m glad it was you, then.”
“You really should be more careful, Caleb...”
“I know, I know, you are so right.” He reaches to ruffle her hair and hauls himself up. “Did you find anything nice for yourself?”
Her grin doesn’t waver. “Yep! Look, a pretty flask!”
(it’s got a lovely pearl-shimmer to it, and he thinks it’s very pretty.)
+
They listen. Frumpkin listens.
Everybody knows something; not all, not everything, but enough for them to go forward, and forward.
Finally, finally the path of bread crumbs take them to a crown guard’s barracks. A new warden, says a baker to a curious mother of three.
Came from the south, says a fisherman to another.
In the barracks.
Cold shivers crawl on Caleb’s spine, and his muscles lock into place. It’s dark inside, dark and terrifying, he knows the prisoners scream inside, but they can’t hear it here, on the street, outside.
You are outside. Calm down.
Nott tugs his sleeve. “Caleb?”
“I’m all right.”
“It’s okay. I feel it, too”, she whispers, biting her claw anxiously. “I can try to steal it?”
Caleb doesn’t say anything. He hates this, putting her in danger, because he’s the one who got caught once upon a time, and now he can’t even find his treasure, he got careless, and she still offers to help him.
“No, I - I think we might have to wait a little bit. Darkness would be ideal?”
“But he might move!” Nott protests.
“He’s not really a spontaneous person in that sense, so I like our chances.”
Nott looks like she would like to argue, but lets it be.
(guilt stings him, this is his problem, his cross to bear, their friends are waiting for them in the inn, and he’s here - )
He pushes it aside, clenches his teeth and sends Frumpkin very carefully inside through a small crack in the window.
The fae flies on the ceiling, sits on a rafter, peers down and navigates. The guards in the hall - eating, muttering, conversing -
And - and there - ?
Caleb grips his knees in sudden panic.
It’s him - it’s him, the warden, right there. Just like Caleb remembers him. A large man, thick and athletic, beady eyes that hold no mercy nor compassion for any living things, magic is beneath us, it makes you no better than cattle!
(caleb remembers that face, haunting his nightmares, twisting in monstrous snarl - he remembers - )
Shivering now violently, Caleb forces himself back on track and follows Frumpkin’s vision to the bunks - but the warden isn’t that low on the ranking hierarchy - if he’s here, he’s transfered, so he should have his own office, office, where is it - ?
Up, up, up -
There!
A nice plaque - all official and polished, important.
Caleb hates it. The pretentious nature of it all. Suits him.
But... it could be there. Caleb couldn’t feel it right now, he can’t make a difference, but...
He returns to his body.
“I found his office”, he rasps to Nott, whose face has been steadily paling. “I’m going there.”
“What, now?” Nott nearly shrieks, showing just how terrified she is. “You can’t, they are there, you get caught! Let me sneak in!”
“Nott, forgive me for saying this, but better me than you. You are a goblin, in Zadash, breaking into the crown guard’s barracks, in the middle of the night. No. I - I will disguise myself and maybe I will be able to sneak into his office.”
Nott’s jaw trembles. “I don’t like it. That’s not a good plan. So many things can go wrong with that - !”
“I know”, Caleb says wearily. “Believe me, I know. But I’m - I have to do it.”
And Nott, to her own horror, realizes she can’t argue with that. She can’t.
So she just stares at him desperately and in panic.
“Okay”, she whispers, and Caleb absolutely hates himself.
+
They wait until it’s dark, and Caleb’s trembling so hard he can barely breathe.
+
The sky is ink blue, black, the street lights flicker and Caleb rises up.
“You should go, Nott.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes glowing bright yellow in shock. “What?”
“You should go back to the inn - if they catch me, they will check if I have accomplices, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. Plus - someone - has to tell our friends where we’ve been.”
“That’s so silly - ! You’re really worrying me, Caleb, this isn’t good!”
“No, but please, Nott, I’m begging you - “
“If - if I went back to the inn - and I’m not saying I’m gonna - what would I even say to them? That we’re breaking into the crown guard barracks? And then they ask why?”
“They don’t need to know what I’m getting”, Caleb wheezes. Blind panic, terror is nearly overwhelming him, nearly clouding his senses. To go back - to be in the same space as HIM - it grips him.
Paralyzes him.
Breathe. Breathe. He doesn’t know you are in here.
“Just - just tell them I’m getting back what has been stolen from me. No need to tell them what it is. Please?”
Nott seems to curl into herself. “I don’t like it - please, just - don’t go and get caught in the meanwhile?” she begs him. “I’m - I’m gonna go and get them and we’re doing this properly! With backup! Okay?”
“Okay”, Caleb hears himself echo.
“Don’t go in yet?”
And he lies.
“I’ll check this alley for openings.”
+
Nott runs as fast as she can.
Caleb waits as she disappears around the corner, snaps his fingers, disguises himself to a guard and goes in.
I’m sorry, Nott. So, very sorry.
+
Caleb’s heart pounds like a sledgehammer.
With every beat, he shakes.
Memories cause terror, anxiety, blind instinct to run, to escape thunders in his head.
No. Go. Go. Go.
He straightens, mimics a crown guard’s posture and nods politely to passing guards that are apparently ready to go to bed.
They nod back, pass him.
They don’t turn.
Go. GO. Don’t linger -
Slowly, he rises the set of stairs. To the warden’s office.
Blood rushes in his ears.
The floor is empty. He glances around - presses his ear against the door. Listens.
Please don’t be there, please -
Nothing.
Silence.
He tries the handle. Locked.
Caleb sighs deeply, kneels to lockpick it - he’s not nearly as good as Nott is, but he’s now stupidly relieved that he’s taken time to learn such a skill. Finally, the door clicks and slides open.
The office smells of leather and old cologne.
Caleb stiffens. He remembers that scent. It’s etched into his memory, and it kicks instinctive, primal fear into him. He remembers smelling it, in the prison, in the torture chamber, he remembers it -
Stop it. Just find it.
Now.
Fingers trembling, he browses the office, pulls open drawers, looks under tables, frustration and fear escalating with each passing minute -
It must be here, there’s no way he’d leave it in a brothel -
It has to -
Suddenly the enchantment around his throat flares to life, and it burns like wildfire, nearly causing Caleb to crash on his knees -
- it’s near? It’s near?
It has to be somewhere -
“Looking for this?”
Caleb freezes. Oh no.
The warden stands on the doorway, casting a long, long shadow on him.
And he’s got his hands on it.
+
“Long time no see, Widogast”, the warden purrs, his voice leaving an oily, sticky feeling onto Caleb’s skin. “My, I haven’t seen that mug in a while. Would know that nervous twitch anywhere. Couldn’t really help yourself, could you?”
He knows who I am? How can he - ? Caleb can’t breathe. Whatever, doesn’t matter, he knows, he sees me - Caleb’s vision pulses around the edges, his lungs are on fire - breathe, breathe -
The warden flashes a thin smile. “Now, whatever could you be doing in Zadash, I wonder? Such a busy place, and if I remember correctly you hate crowded places. That desperate, are you?”
“I am not”, Caleb forces out, his voice rattled. “I want what’s mine back.”
“Oh, this?” The warden pets the skin, the sleek fur in his grip, and Caleb shudders. It feels wrong, he feels in every cell in his body, how that man is not supposed to touch that - “Yes, I was quite stunned to find that you left it behind when you made your... neat little escape.”
The smile drops, and the warden’s mouth tightens, curls venomously. “You burnt the prison down.”
“My apologies, I should have paid for my stay”, Caleb mocks without blinking.
“Bullshit. But now you’re back, and we have a score to settle.”
“We have no such thing. You will give me that.”
The warden howls with laughter. “You really think so? I still hold this - and what can you do about it?” he asks saccharine sweetly and runs his fingers on the coat -
“Stop”, Caleb rasps.
“Oh, this? Does this make you uncomfortable, abomination?”
Caleb can feel ghost touches digging into his skin, like sickness -
Something in him explodes. He extends his hand, and a blast of crystal bright ice shoots out, collides, crashes and the warden howls:
“MAGIC! MAGIC IN THE BARRACKS!”
Oh no - !
He dashes into action, desperately reaches for the fur, the enchantment goes haywire in him, it’s here, it’s here - ! But strong hands grab him, someone punches him brutally on the jaw, and he sees stars -
Oh, I’m so sorry, he thinks dizzily, I’m so sorry, please - please don’t come here - I made a mistake...
The guards drag him to the interrigation room.
He knows that smell. Of blood and sweat -
Oh, I didn’t miss any of this.
The warden orders the guards away, go back to sleep, I’ve got this, settles the fur carefully away and saunters in front of Caleb. The torch light casts a very unflattering shadow on his sweaty face.
“Welcome back, Widogast”, he grins, his mouth all wide and full of yellow teeth. “I missed you, freak.”
He makes sure that Caleb sees the burning, red-hot poker that still smokes.
And Caleb wishes he would wake up.
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