Hilock remained suspended in the air. His body hogtied. He was left staring at the floor. It was almost too dark to make out the stone tiles though.

He had no idea how long it had been. Days? Weeks? He couldn’t say. They force-fed him. Well, he had them believe he was being force-fed. He wanted them to believe he had given up. In reality, he was starving and desperately wanted each scrap they gave. He still had the pleasure of being suspended in ropes, which reminded him of gym class.

A light crept into the room, blinding him.

“Ready to talk?” a woman’s voice said.

“She asks me if I’m ready to speak. I’d much more enjoy a peek. Lift that dress and show some leg. Don’t make me float and beg.”

She walked over to him and rubbed the back of his head, running her fingers over his coarse skin.

“Disgusting. The only thing I’d have you beg for is your life.” She slapped him. “You’ll talk, or the pain starts. Of course, I’m going to recommend the latter.”

“Very well. You have me in a corner, I’ll tell, and spare you from being a mourner.”

She turned around to leave the room.

“You’ll be seeing her shortly. Make your peace with the gods.”

“It’s the gods who should ask for peace from me.” Hilock spat toward the ground.

The door closed and he was left with his anger.

A group of men soon entered and covered his head in a loose sack. They removed him from the hook suspending him and carried him through the halls. He could vaguely make out the tiles through the mask, and he knew exactly where he was.

“Eww. I think his pecker’s attending,” someone said.

The guards laughed.

“Fucking little weirdo, ain’t ya?” another man said.

“Excuse me, men,” he said. “I just wanted to be ready. If she wants answers, she’ll have to give some head to me.”

A punch slammed in the back of his head, making him dizzy.

The guards opened the double doors and threw him onto the floor.

“Ow!” He rolled to his side. “Landed on my shaft…”

“Leave us,” the Inquisitor said plainly. “I want you all fifty paces from the door.”

The doors closed behind him.

Heels clattered as she walked toward him. She removed a knife, cut off his bindings, and removed his mask. She didn’t even flinch at the sight of him; she had seen far worse in her days. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for him to have a seat in one of the leather chairs in front her desk, which he obliged.

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“Beautiful office you have here,” he said. “Tell me what you want, dear.”

“I’m going to ask you this once. Do you want to die today?” she asked as if she was offering a side of butter.

“Whether I want death to conclude me, depends on the life that presumes me. Though I’d prefer to walk and yearn, I’d rather see this whole castle burn.”

She stared at him and showed him a piece of paper with the image he had shown the bishop: a circle wrapped in thorns and resting on a pedestal. A hand from the heavens reached down to touch it as a hand reached up from the fires below.

“Do you know what this is?”

Hilock stared in disbelief, how could she know about that?

“I find it intriguing,” she said.

She removed a tray with a cover from behind her desk, brought it over to him, and removed the top. On it lay several meats, cheeses, fruits, and a cup of wine. He didn’t care if it was poisoned; he ate as much as he could and slurped down the wine, enjoying the lightheaded rush. Yet he left the cheeses on the platter.

“A wonderful meal,” he said. “Sorry to not finish, my stomach is small, my hunger has diminished.”

“Now, we have found your little hideout,” she said. “I want to know where you found all the documents.”

“I’m sure you have guessed, it isn’t just coincidence. To find me with these papers, you surely already know my labors.”

“I don’t waste my own time. It's the most valuable thing in this whole damn city. Don’t bother trying to use your little spells either. You’ve just ingested enough soul tonic to prevent it for days.” She had hoped using the last supply they had of it would prove fruitful. She’d have to convince Hunter to make more.

“Might I stand? It’s easier for me to command…my thoughts.” Perhaps a little too much wine.

She nodded.

He stood and walked around the room. “My captor has asked of me compliance, even though my soul screams defiance. However, she treats me like an honored guest, so only gods could predict what comes next. I’ll give you my secrets, and all that I ask—is that you leave the other citizens to task.” He stood on her desk. “There once was a world, where demons were harnessed. Or angels instead, whatever we were promised. In an underground lair, not unlike a mausoleum. We cast out the fair, and the dead were ideal. They cast despair and ambition, the smoke was allotted with a now lost system. They put halos on beasts, and blended their souls. They couldn’t know then, what their futures would hold. Of my own scars that adorn me, inflicted by the woman before me. Pain was all that could precede it, to mix, they must be defeated. But above all of this rhetoric and feeling so tender, it is you my dear that I never fail to remember. You fucking bitch!”

He jumped on her, wrapping his hands around her neck and knocking her chair onto its back. She grabbed his wrists and sent pulses of electricity through him, kicking up and sending him crashing through the table that held the platter. She teleported to him, grabbed his leg and threw him toward the window. He crashed straight through it.

She teleported above him and grabbed his neck as he fell. Nearly inches from the rocky path below, they reappeared in the office once more, and he fell onto his face.

His body was alive with a pain he had forgotten about. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the slippery blood.

“Still pathetic, I see,” she said.

The guards ran inside to find her standing over his battered body. Blood stained her outfit, standing out against the vibrant white.

“Take him back to his chambers. I’ll file an execution order and alert the king that I’ve found the culprit.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The guards grabbed his body and dragged him out, and a thinning trail of blood followed. They picked him up and threw him inside his cell. His head bounced off the ground. A large latch crashed down securing the door.

He reached into his pocket and felt around.

“It seems she’s bold and maybe forgotten, that I am after all, lactose intolerant…” He removed the cheese and devoured it.