The Beacon of Hope
MADAME DESTINE MADE her way along the carved stone corridors. She was barefoot and the many skirts of her long dress trailed snakelike behind her. The Hades Consortium guard had thought it perfectly reasonable to lead her directly to the holding cells, and had even unlocked the main gate for her before returning to his duties with a vague scratch of his head, as if enchanted by a spell. Entering through the main gate, she heard muffled voices close by. The corridor was populated with an array of cells – some large enough to hold many men, and some no bigger than a wardrobe. Every so often she would freeze as the voices rose in anguish, her nerves on a knife's edge. Finding Cornelius was Destine's primary objective, and her sensitivity to emotions gave her an advantage. All she had to do was close her eyes and focus on the soul in the most torment and her gifts would surely lead her right to him.
But in the Hades Consortium detention block, torment was a common emotion.
She heard a man cry out in pain.
Moving unerringly towards the sound, the closer that she got, the more obvious it was that someone was at the receiving end of a vicious beating. Her sensory gifts were working overtime trying to compensate for such raw emotion – fear, pain, anger, misery. They were everywhere within the jail, but none more so than in a cell less than ten feet away from her. With her curiosity driving her onwards, Destine slipped into the empty cell next door and pressed her ear against the wall.
'Scream for me, Scarab pig!' yelled a man's voice, followed by another man's forced exhalation. The victim wheezed, desperate to catch a breath. 'Jailer Mullah, this will take some time!' he called to his colleague in the adjoining cell.
'My one is not talking either, Jailer Veriz,' snarled the Consortium jailer. 'Come on, dog – plead for your miserable life…what is left of it! Lady Jocasta has ordered you to die quickly – and I am more than happy to accommodate!'
This other prisoner was struck. Destine heard the victim gasp for breath, before retching. She heard three whispered words, more than enough to recognise the speaker.
'Go to hell,' snarled Cornelius Quaint.
Destine rested her head against the cell wall and muttered a silent prayer. Now came the hard part…how was she to get him out of that place? Charming a guard was one thing – but charming a whole platoon of them? A faint, melodic whistle wafted down the corridor behind her. Someone was coming! She squashed herself against the wall behind the cell's iron door, hearing the jangle of keys and heavy footsteps. Moments later, a broad-shouldered guard strode down the hallway and into the cell next door to hers.
'Sir George has sent an urgent command!' said the booming voice of the head jailer. 'He wants the white-haired one to be taken to the audience chamber immediately! Hang on…what is this?' He stopped and Destine's heart missed a beat. 'Look at him! The man is half dead!'
'We…we were merely following Lady Jocasta's orders, Jailer Agnafar. She wishes this Englishman killed for his treachery to the Hades Consortium.'
'That order has since been countermanded by Sir George! You are lucky, Jailer Mullah. Had this man died, it would not have been long until you would have joined him!' snarled the burly Agnafar. 'Do what you will to the Scarab, but take the Englishman to the audience chamber right now, or these dogs will not be the only ones at the receiving end of a beating!'
'Yes, Jailer Agnafar.'
'Sorry, Jailer Agnafar.'
There was a sudden sound of jangling keys and unlocking locks.
Destine's heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she witnessed Cornelius's unmistakable shock of curly hair dragged past her hiding place by his guard. He was soon out of her sight, and out of her grasp.
'Right, you piece of camel dung, now it is just you and me,' yelled the voice of Jailer Veriz. 'You are the leader of those Scarabs, yes? Aksak Faroud, they call you? Well, Aksak…let us see if you are still as high and mighty once I have finished with you!'
The chains binding Faroud to the wall shook and rattled, followed by the sickening dull thud of knuckles against flesh. Destine winced as Faroud's pain jolted through her. If she was going to make a move she had better do it soon. The man in the next cell did not have long to live, and her instincts told her that if she and Cornelius were to escape the Hades Consortium's lair, they would need Aksak Faroud's help…