Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(11)

Yelled. He counted speaking sternly as yelling.

I released a long sigh and started to turn around. I should tell him about the tremor on his island; he deserved to know. But at that moment, blinding light flared from the hall.

With a shout, I slammed my palms over my face. All over the cellblock, similar cries echoed. The light leaked between my fingers, making my eyes burn and water. I groaned, trying to rub the stinging away in vain, but it was no use. After hours in the dark, my eyes had grown used to not seeing.

Footfalls slammed through the hall, followed by the rattle of metal on a cell door. My heart jumped. Was someone making an escape?

I scrambled to my feet and forced my eyes open. Through the film of tears, I saw a pair of Khulani warriors storming through the cellblock. They each carried small sacks in one hand, and a metal baton in the other.

The girl across the hall was on her feet, her back to the rear wall and her hands at her sides. She didn’t look worried as one of the warriors opened a slot in her door and slung a sack inside.

When Altan appeared at my door, I followed the girl’s example. My spine pressed against the cold wall, making the silk of my dress snag against the stone. I could feel the tugging and wanted to pull it free, but I didn’t move. I made my face as cool and impassive as I could manage.

Altan dragged a baton along the iron grating of my door. Clack, clack, clack. In the opposite cell, the girl picked through her sack and removed a package of dried meat.

Food. The sack contained food.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but it seemed like ages ago, and the only reason I hadn’t fainted from hunger was because I’d been too scared. But now, my stomach felt achy and hollow. I wanted that bag.

Altan offered a sinister smile. “How was your first day?”

I didn’t bother to answer, because the girl across the hall hadn’t spoken to the man tossing food at her, either. And as he moved down, the other prisoners were quiet as well.

Altan hefted the bag of food. “This is yours for the next few hours. I suggest eating everything you can, because there’s no hoarding allowed. Draws pests.”

Hopefully there was a lot of food in there.

The warrior opened the slot in my door and tossed the bag at my feet. I didn’t reach for it. I’d wait for him to go away, first.

“A few pieces of information for the new girl,” Altan said, putting the baton in his belt. “Once a decan, you’ll have the chance to clean your cell.”

Once every ten days? That seemed . . . like not enough.

“A mop and bucket goes down the line. You’re last, so it’s going to be dirty by the time it gets to you. But clean your cell anyway. After a few decans, you’ll thank me for the warning.”

I’d always been a tidy person, but at home we had servants for the real work. Now I wished I’d paid more attention to what they’d been doing this whole time.

But if I was last in line for the mop, at least I could watch the girl across from me. See how she did it.

“After that, you go down to the baths. Wash yourself whether you want to or not. If the smell in here becomes too unbearable for us, you all get punished. So stay clean.”

Damina, what I wouldn’t give for a bath right now. I touched the spot on my chin. The blemish felt huge and inflamed, like it was ready to burst. Even the slightest pressure sent ripples of pain across my face.

My skin crawled with the oppressive, smothering sensation of dirt and oil. The thought of a bath . . .

Altan smirked. “You’ve probably never gone a day without a bath, hm?” He shook his head, like not bathing was a rite of passage of some kind—like everyone should try it at least once. “Well, you’re lucky. It’s mop day. And therefore bath day.”

Today was Surday. Surday was bath day. I tried not to let my excitement show, but clearly I failed, because he just chuckled.

“The rest of the decan, you’ll get breakfast, and we come in after three hours and collect your sacks. Don’t vomit in there or you’ll regret it.” He leveled his glare on me. “But today everyone eats, gets their turn with the mop, and then they go off for baths. They get more food after that. It’s a special day. Everyone’s favorite.”

Because we got fed twice?

I was dying to look inside the bag, but Altan’s glare kept me pinned in place.

“You can earn freedoms,” he went on. “Time out of that cell. You can take a job. More food. More water. More room to exercise. Maybe even move to a better cellblock, if you’re good enough.”

What kind of work did they need done in the Pit?

My question must have been obvious, because he added, “The Pit is a big place. We always need people to clean. There’s usually blood on the floor. The prison kitchen needs more workers, too. If what I hear about the food in that bag is true, they need quality cooks.”

He thought I knew how to cook?

“If you’ve done any kind of blacksmithing, we have places in the forge. Not, of course, for making weapons. The only time you’ll touch a weapon is when you’re on the wrong end of it.” He shook his head. “Still, there are other duties a pretty thing like you might take on.” His eyes dropped to my chest.

It took me a moment to understand what he was implying.

“No.” The word came as a whisper, but he heard me.