CHAPTER 17: TO THE DUNGEON

Anneliese could tell just by the look on Envoy Egnatius’ face—this time, he wouldn’t let her go so easily.

Before he could get any more ideas, she spoke up quickly. "I’m a resident of Haselburg. That’s why I’m here! I went out for some work, and when I got back, my family was gone. I’ve been looking for them everywhere—I thought maybe they just stepped out for something urgent."

"You went out when the Board had imposed a curfew?" the Envoy cut her off sharply. "We made it very clear—no one was to leave their homes."

Ann closed her eyes for a second and cursed her luck. Her gaze swept across the people around her, but it finally returned to Egnatius. She couldn’t possibly confess where she had been—or why. Her mind scrambled for something, anything—but nothing came.

"Gabriel," Egnatius called out.

"Yes, sir," a subordinate stepped forward.

"Check the girl’s belongings."

Gabriel turned to her. "Miss, please hand over your bag."

Only then did Anneliese remember the book—the one Vincenzo had given her. Her fingers tightened around the strap, clutching the bag as if her very life depended on it. If they saw a witchcraft grimoire in her possession, no excuse in the world would save her.

When she didn’t move, Gabriel reached for the bag. Ann resisted, but he pulled hard—and the book slipped out, landing on the ground with a soft thud. She went pale.

Every eye turned to the book. Gabriel bent, picked it up, and read aloud, "Grimoire."

He held it up. "It’s a book on witchcraft, sir."

Egnatius’s voice rang with finality. "Seize the book. Arrest the girl. Take her to the capital city in a separate carriage and lock her in the dungeon. We’ll arrive in a few hours—once this town is thoroughly investigated."

Anneliese knew nothing she said now would help. Maybe it would even make things worse.

She was hauled toward one of the carriages and shoved inside roughly. The interior reeked of damp leather and stale sweat.

Across from her, sat Gabriel, Envoy’s subordinate. His eyes gleamed with sick satisfaction. The doors slammed shut. The carriage lurched into motion.

As the wheels turned and Haselburg faded behind her, her thoughts spiraled. Tears pricked her eyes as she looked out the window, her father’s warning echoing in her ears: "Life won’t be easy from now on."

With Mr. Enzo’s upside down test and theory... I forgot to tell him about my father, she thought. And now... I can’t even talk to Pappa himself. I don’t even know if they are all safe.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the side wall of the carriage. Her mind spiraled toward the last glimpse of her family—were they alive, hiding, or gone forever? Her chest ached, and the sting behind her eyes blurred the edge of the world outside the carriage window.

She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes, trying to think clearly. What am I going to do once I reach the dungeon? The only hope she had was the cat—but even he wouldn’t know where she was now.

A faint brush against her hand made her open her eyes.

Gabriel had leaned forward slightly from the opposite bench, brushing his knuckles deliberately across the back of her hand.

Ann jerked away. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"Don’t act innocent," he sneered. "Everyone knows you had something to do with the townsfolk vanishing. You’ll be executed soon. Might as well make use of the time you’ve got left. Don’t you think so?"

Ann’s voice was firm. "No. I don’t. After the trial, they’ll see I had nothing to do with it. So keep your hands to yourself—unless you want to be executed."

Gabriel chuckled. "Naive, are we? Or just playing dumb? You were found with a spellbook and at the crime scene. Whole town’s gone, and you’re the only one left—with witchcraft in your bag. You witches always think you’re clever. But you’re just freaks waiting to be burnt alive."

Gabriel whispered, eyes gleaming, "You really think you’ll get a trial?"

Leaning further close, he continued, "You look nervous!"

With disgusted look and sick smirk, he went on, "Don’t worry, you won’t feel lonely. I’ll keep you company when you’re locked away. No one will hear you scream beneath the stone walls—and down there, even time forgets you exist."

She flinched, looking sharply at him.

"Back off," she snapped.

"Oho. So the witch has a bite," he grinned. "Don’t worry. That fire won’t last long where we’re going."

She said nothing. She had no words. She shifted farther away, pressing herself into the carriage wall, trying to hold onto her fear and anger like a shield.

What if he’s right? What if there won’t be any trial? Even if there is—what could I possibly say? I can’t tell them I’m the possessor of the Book of Spells. Mr. Enzo warned me. No matter what happens—no one must know.

Oh, God. What am I going to do?

Her silence seemed to irk Gabriel. He clenched his jaw and hissed, "Do you think you can escape me? You’re under my custody. Once the Envoy is done interrogating you, I’ll have my turn in the dungeon—and there’ll be nowhere for you to run."

He gave her a slow, malicious smile.

"It’s not every day we get someone as pretty as you down there. I’ll make sure it’s... memorable."

Anneliese stayed silent. What could she possibly say? Panic clawed at her throat as she thought about her situation...

An hour later, the carriage came to a halt. The coachman stepped down and opened the door.

"We’ve reached the dungeon, sir," the coachman announced, as the iron door groaned open.