How, that’s the question. How.

Not “How to escape,” no no no, not that. There was no escape. Not “How long will I be here,” though that was a damn fine question.

No. How was I going to get those guys? You don’t do this to people.

You don’t do this to people.

What if this was happening to someone besides me? Readers, forgive my sexism, I’m sure it’s barbaric: what if this had happened to one of those poor terrified girls? Without Mandy to beat people up for them? Outrage filled me, quickening my pulse.

I was furious. And paralyzed. And surrounded by a huge, huge darkness, stuck in a fancy cage. I don’t know how long I was there, fuming.

Okay. Let’s reason this out, I said to myself. This isn’t a death sentence. This is just a thing you do in social groups. A hazing. Once I go through it, I’ll be one of them, right? Accepted. I’d have belonging. I’d be part of the group. It’s just Human behavior.

Not interested. In what turned out to be a general trend towards mobility, my upper lip curled in disgust. Not interested at all.

Soon I could move. My hands flopped at the ornate bars. Then they could grip more precisely. I tried prying out what must have been one of the pearls; no dice. The cage had no screws or fastenings I could tamper with, of course. It was simply designed to keep me here.

I deeply, deeply missed having a smartphone. Not only would I have been able to use it as a light source, but I also could have used it to read or listen to audiobooks or any number of things. And If I’d somehow had connectivity to the internet, I could have read manga. Isekai manga even.

But audiobooks, podcasts, something I can listen to while my hands do things. Very important.

As you might suspect, sounds became quite the thing. Once I heard dull flaps, as if someone were waving a heavy blanket in the air. Imagination in overdrive, I knew it was some ghastly monster that flew and ate idiots in cages. It went away, flapping off and downward.

A breeze would occasionally ruffle my hair. It came from different directions each time. A low moan would sound sometimes when that happened. Once it said a sentence in a language I didn’t understand. I didn’t say anything in return.

I didn’t yell or whistle or call for help. Bad idea. This whole thing was about making me want to do that, and then scary things happening. Was there a camera somewhere around, with night vision? Watching me? And then the Harrigans would say: ho ho ho, we showed him who’s boss. As if this weren’t enough.

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I got to know my crow cage. It had been made with a lot of care, and felt like a pretty high-tech thing. Nothing hand-made about it.

The lock wasn’t anything I could pick, of course; a fist-sized box of metal that grew from the rungs of the cage. It had an odd warmth to it. My fingers wouldn’t fit into the old-fashioned keyhole. What was the warmth? Was this magic? I’ve been avoiding the word. Magic.

The rungs of the cage pressed into my back and legs. I took off my shirt and used it for a cushion to sit on; that helped a little. Unlike the lock, the metal never warmed, no matter how long I leaned against it. Always cold against my skin.

It went on a long time. I got loopy. I was hungry and thirsty. I hadn’t had a single meal since coming to Harrigan’s island. Not even that free chicken sandwich. I think I slept; hard to tell when things look the same whether your eyes are open or closed.

The things down here kept on with their lives. Once I was overwhelmed with a spectacular, powerful cinnamon smell, intense enough to make my eyes water. It was horrible. I love cinnamon rolls, and cinnamon desserts. This was such an overpowering stench that I might never want those things again. Whatever was making the scent also emitted heat, like a bakery was floating by in the dark. The smell and heat faded, which was a relief.

I know at one point I fell asleep, because I was jolted awake by motion. Something had set my cage swinging.

I never saw what it was. And I did have the opportunity: my cage went into long arcs of motion, and scraped against the vast stone wall. It swung three times, and sparks flared into life when the metal of the cage ground against stone. My eyes weren’t ready for light. It was like the sun exploded into my head each time.

I caught glimpses of the cave wall. The first two times I saw rough stone. The third time I saw designs carved into the wall, odd sigils and shapes, mosaic patterns of multicolored gems. They formed a design, maybe a mural, dozens of meters high…then I whooshed away again, into the dark.

I tucked my arms and legs into the vehicle, like they say to do in theme parks, and grabbed the top rungs. I couldn’t see where I was going, and the motion was making me want to throw up.

Eventually the swinging stopped, and I felt safe putting my feet back out of the cage. The soles of my shoes tapped reassuringly against the stone once more. Home sweet home.

Thirst was becoming a real issue. I mean, it had been already, but suddenly I was crazy desperate for something to drink. I picked up my shirt and started sucking on it, savoring the salt of my sweat. It helped a little. I stopped. Someone was coming.

Pat pat pat, the sounds of something coming up the stairs from the limitless dark below. This world had things in it that weren’t even remotely human. I’d seen that crab in the water, and I knew that’s not what one would sound like coming up stairs. Would they even be able to use stairs like these ones?

But for the life of me, it sounded like a smallish person, pat-patting towards me. I pulled in my legs once more. I said nothing.

The footfalls, if that’s what they were, stopped. Then they started again, coming straight for me. I braced. I wanted to be ready if this had been what caused my cage to go careening through the dark earlier.