Preparations took a better part of the day. Mary was mostly standing away from the action and busying herself with attempts to not disturb anyone important. Also, she tried to get as far from Frank as possible - the wizard was making her uncomfortable, almost muttering something when he saw her, looking her up and now.
And to her delight, she got to visit the shower, which she so desperately needed. It was a really weird experience, since when she turn the knobs, what rained on her was not water, but sand. She'd almost jumped out immediately, but to her surprise, the grains were unusually soft and unusually pleasant - hopefully, they were also unusually good at getting rid of the stench she'd already gotten used to.
At some point, Mary started getting hungry despite her stomach being shut tight from nervousness. She needn't have worried about this one - soon after, a trolley filled with sandwiches of all sizes, flavours and shapes rolled into the room, and she was told she could get however much she wanted herself.
Mary picked a long one, made of white bread, ham, and cheese - by now she knew better than to get herself into trouble on an empty stomach. She sunk her teeth deep into the meal and had to force herself hard not to spit it out immediately. The bread was a bit stale, the cheese - dry, the ham... she couldn't tell what animal it came from, and she didn't want to know. There were some sauces poured inside, probably mayo and ketchup, but they were so bland that they could have just as well been missing.
Mary glanced around, trying to assess the situation, but surprisingly, no one seemed particularly bothered by this poisoning attempt. People were eating, talking, and even laughing despite the tragedy happening right in front of them, worse, in their mouths.
“Can we go back to prison already?” her tongue and stomach unanimously complained.
Mary flinched and finished her lunch without further incidents.
Finally, a purple-covered palanquin carried by four men entered the chamber, and Frank announced that everything was ready. Mary gave the palanquin another look - it was way too small to contain a whole person. The drapes covering its centre looked smooth, silky, and the girl was tempted to reach out and touch them. Unfortunately, the carriers' faces quickly clarified that it was not an option.
A few others carried clocks and watches of various shapes and sizes - from tiny steampunk-like pocket ones to a few feet tall oaken furniture.
Mary looked at Frank, the question plain on her face. The wizard was putting on bright-green rubber gloves that reached up to his elbows.
“Go on, don't just stand like that. Open the first cell on the left,” he said.
The door wasn't locked. Behind it, Mary saw a narrow pedestal with a large stone bowl filled with quivering red-black liquid and a set of iron shackles. And down beneath the pedestal, she saw a large, irregular shadow that didn't fit anything in current lighting conditions at the slightest.
“You see,” Frank said, “even doomed heroes are allowed to be taken prisoners for some time. And right now, the manacles are enough to make that official. But we have no way of telling your friend to regenerate into them once we remove the venom, and without a strong enough shadowmancer, keeping that little blip from killing him will be a real pain in the rear.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Wait. That's Paolo?” Mary blanched whiter than the boy usually was.
“The one and only, if Arthur's right - and our Pri rarely makes mistakes. It is still a lot of mess that he's landed us in this time, don't get me wrong.” Frank said, covering the cell's walls with an array of runes drawn in bloody red. Mary touched the wall where the paint trickled and felt the familiar sticky substance. Something told Mary that she didn't want to know the detailed composition of the paint.
“And what is that for?” Mary potined back at the palanquin.
“That friend of yours will need some extra help this time around. They gave him an elephant's dose of white widow's venom. So, we brought him this.”
He finished his paintwork with two broad strokes and wiped his gloves into his robes, leaving dark smudges on the pink fabric. Then, he reverently lifted a layer of purple curtains, revealing a small, golden chalice. Mary's jaw almost hit the floor and broke through to the Earth's core.
“Is... is that... the o-original...?”
“On our budget? Good joke,” Frank said with a smirk that didn't quite cover the awe. “It is just a reflection of a distant reality. Still, it should give the boy more power than he needs.”
Mary swallowed hard and barely stopped herself from falling to her knees. If it's just the reflection... but still...
“So, I hear you're just here to watch - you'll stand here and keep your nose as far away as you can from everything threatening to take it off your face,” he pointed just in front of the cell's door.
“Will there be much of those... nose-eating things flying around?”
Frank sighed. “Typical. Arthur sends someone at least moderately competent for me to talk to, and the best she can manage is a few hours of the act. We are trying to stop a literal hero-killing monster. Something designed to consistently eliminate heroes capable of threatening the existence as we know it.”
Mary's face reddened. “So... much of those.”
The wizard laughed... no, at this point, it was definitely a cackle. He took out large, five-feet long tongs and reverently took the chalice from its stand.
“Everone ready?” he asked, as he held it in place directly above the bowl. Once the man got the last of confirmations from his assistants, he tipped the chalice just enough for a single drop to drip onto Paolo's remains.
A pillar of white flame erupted from the bowl, blinding Mary for a few seconds. Once she blinked the afterimages away, the blood was already rising up to four feet and growing higher.
The shackles were nowhere to be seen.
“Now!” Frank yelled, slamming his hand on the wall. The scripture flashed fiery red and shot hundreds of crimson strings at the shadow beneath the pedestal, which was already rising too. It was growing spikes and claws, clearly disconnected from the floor on the one hand, but also perfectly flat on the other. Mary's stomach twisted into a knot as she heard the abomination scream without sound.
The shadow burned and squirmed, trying to fend off the attackers, but with little success. It stopped rising, kept in check at the time. Meanwhile, the blood towering over the pedestal was already past five feet tall, and slowly separated its flows into a humanoid form.
“Steady...” Frank muttered, intense concentration stretching his voice like a steel cable over a bridge. “We're almost there...”
And then, Mary saw a flickering spark on the wall, just where she touched the trickling liquid.