It didn’t take him long to find out who was inside. In fact, as soon as he opened the door, he saw her.  

“What are you doing here?” Marcella asked. She had been leaning against the wood and nearly tumbled out when Dere opened it.

“That’s a fine way to thank me.”

“Hard to thank you when I’m not sure whether to be glad or worried that you’re here.”

Dere, still in quite a bit of pain, managed to crack a smile. “Relax, I’m here to get you out.”

“In that case, thank you.” She paused to examine his face, bruised from impact with a certain stone wall. “But, why?”

“Long story short, I need your help. We should be going.”

Marcella nodded and peered past him. “Is Simone…”

“She’s dead.” A peculiar expression flickered across Marcella’s face. She looked almost sad. “Should I not have killed her?”

“No, no, it’s just…” She frowned. “She didn’t seem like the bad sort.”

Dere shrugged. “Very few actually are. War is killing a bunch of people who probably don’t deserve it.” Dere thought back, once again, to that strawberry blond hair dotted with blood.

Marcella frowned and Dere took the opportunity to get a good look at her. She looked, somehow, totally fine, healthy even. She wore a simple yet comfortable looking white dress and her golden hair looked recently combed. Curious, Dere looked behind her, into the room. It had a plush bed, fine carpet, decorated window, wooden furniture, all the commodities that a captured Queen might need. Her prison was somehow nicer than any other room in the keep. “Royals… even as war prisoners you live in luxury.”

“Yes, because I’m thrilled to be a prisoner. All this makes things so much better.”

Dere smiled goodnaturedly. “It’s better than the alternative, I can assure you of that. You could be fifty meters below ground, feeding the rats."

Marcella shook her head then sighed. “Believe it or not, I’m really glad to see you. You’re not a friendly face but at least you’re a familiar one.” She paused, scared to ask whatever was on her mind. She took a breath. “Is Markus okay? I haven’t seen him since we were ambushed.”

“Unfortunately, Markus is doing just fine. He’s actually down on the bottom floors, bashing some heads in and searching for you.”

Marcella laughed. “That sounds like him. How about Arlette? She was with you.”

“Also fine.”

Visible relief flashed across her face. “Thanks be to the gods.” She paused one last time, unsure about the next one. “What about Lucroy?”

Dere thought back to the tall, red-haired man he’d met what seemed like forever ago. He didn’t even know his name at the time. It was hard to feel remorse for a man he didn’t know, but Dere certainly didn’t want to deliver the news. He cleared his throat. “Well... I'm not entirely certain... but”

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“He’s dead.” Her voice stayed remarkably steady.

“Yeah.”

She closed her eyes and drew upon some hidden reservoir. “Okay.” She opened them again. “We should go.” Dere, uneager to continue the awkward conversation, nodded to show his agreement. Without hesitation, he turned and walked back down the hall, over the prone suit of armor, past the broken window, and around a dozen or so swords, lying on the ground. Marcella took one last long glance into the room she’d been kept in. Then, she turned her back on it forever and followed Dere down the hall. She glanced with interest at the armor and swords but stopped when she reached the window. Dere, who had already reached the stairs, turned around to see what was keeping her. Marcella stared out the window but didn’t look down, not eager to see what laid below.

“So, this is how you got her.” Her voice sounded distant, detached. Dere, a little confused, merely nodded. “Clever.” She murmured.

“Not really.” It was all Dere could think to say. He didn’t know why they were still here. He wanted to get moving. Luckily, it seemed Marcella agreed with him. She closed her eyes and turned away from the window. Together, they descended the stairs down to the fifth floor. Marcella did as Markus had done before, followed Dere at a distance while he checked for any guards. Thankfully, Dere had already dealt with most of them on the way up. The way was largely clear, except for the decapitated corpses of those monsters.

They passed the one Dere had killed before ascending to the sixth floor. It remained where it had been, its head several yards away from the rest of its chopped up body. Dere walked around it without a second thought, but Marcella hunched over to examine it closer when she reached it.

“You really did a number on it.” Some of the usual color had returned to her voice. Dere could feel her curiosity punctuating the tone.

“Had to,” He said, stopping and turning but not walking back towards her. “They’re somewhat difficult to kill, as you might imagine.”

“What,” She smiled. “No nearby cliffs to trick them into walking off of.”

Dere returned the grin. “It was good advice then, and it’s good advice now. They’re stupid and predictable. Always act several steps ahead of them. Or, I suppose you could just be Markus and bludgeon them with a flaming sword.”

Her light laugh filled up the lifeless halls. “Equally effective options, I guess.”

“If anything, Markus’ is a little more effective, but that’s not the point.”

Marcella laughed again. She looked alive and well for several moments, but something seemed to latch onto her mind and the laughter died. “You know? She hated these things, Randas too.”

“Simone?”

“Yeah. We talked a few times. I think we both got a little lonely up there. She thought these things were vile. Hated the idea of being allied with them.”

Dere paused. “I didn’t have a choice Marcella…”

“I know. I know. If I had the chance, I would have pushed her out a window too. It’s just… I don’t know. She seemed, like a person, I guess. Worshipped the ground Randas walked on. They all do. His soldiers love him, hang on his every word like he’s a medium for the gods.” She paused and looked at Dere. “Are you going to kill him?”

Dere shook his head. “Maurius would like me to, but I don’t feel particularly inclined. Seems far too much like pointless politics for my liking. I need your help. That’s why I’m here. I don’t need Randas dead. He would just be another meaningless casualty in all the meaningless wars you lot like to have.”

“I was worried for a second that you had changed.” She grinned, but Dere could tell it was fake. She was no longer in the mood for smiling.

“That’s one of the things about my kind, we don’t change.” Dere stared down at the monster on the floor, thinking about something else.

“Your kind?”

Dere focused back on her. “We should go.”

Marcella gave him an odd look but nodded her agreement. They turned their back on the dead monster and descended down another flight of stairs. They made it through the fourth floor without incident, Dere leading the way. When they got onto the third floor, though, something interrupted them. Nothing in front of them, no. Instead, they heard a loud crash below followed by a violent shaking of the foundations. The earth and stone itself seemed to move. Dere inclined his head, listening. Then, he heard the roar of fire, coming from the same place.

His eyes and Marcella’s met. “Is that Markus?” She asked, knowing full well the answer but hoping for another one.

“It seems like he and Randas have found each other.”