Prisoners of the wilds

A Dangerous Currency

"Open up, damn you," Marcus Vance commanded, his eyes fixed on the empty space between two massive glowing trees.

He closed his eyes tight, blocking out the sight of the giant cosmic eye watching him from the sky. He took a deep breath, focusing his mind entirely on the heavy, throbbing sensation in his own veins. He remembered how the gateway had reacted to the fresh blood from his broken knuckles back in the prison cell. He raised his hand, pointing his thumb toward his palm, and sliced his skin against one of his newly sharpened fingernails. A single drop of dark red blood welled up.

"I am a Vance," Marcus muttered, thrusting his bleeding hand forward into the humid air. "You are my family secret. Open for me."

A brilliant spark of starlight-blue light flickered in the center of the clearing. The air groaned, vibrating with sudden power, and then a violent tear ripped open in reality. The beautiful blue vortex expanded rapidly, humming with intense cosmic energy. Marcus did not wait for it to fade. He threw himself forward, diving straight into the freezing center of the rift.

The dizzying tunnel of starlight blurred around him for a single second before he tumbled hard onto a cold, unforgiving surface. The smell of rich earth and ozone vanished, replaced instantly by the foul, stagnant stench of damp mold, old straw, and iron.

Marcus scrambled to his feet in the pitch-black darkness of Cell 44. His new, enhanced vision allowed him to see the outlines of the room perfectly, even without a torch. He quickly reached down, picked up the heavy, discarded brick from the floor, and slid it smoothly back into the gap at the base of the wall. The blue glow vanished instantly, sealing the portal away.

Not even five seconds later, a heavy iron key rattled violently inside the door lock. The metal deadbolt slid back with a loud, echoey click.

Guard Captain Briggs stepped into the isolation cell, holding a dim oil lantern high above his head. He looked around the floor, fully expecting to find a cold, bloody corpse or a weeping, broken prisoner waiting for the morning executioners. When the light of his lantern washed over Marcus, Briggs stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping in absolute shock.

"What in the king's name is going on here?" Briggs whispered, his voice cracking as he lowered the lantern to get a better look. "How are you standing up? You were practically dead when we threw you in here last night."

"I told you before, Captain, I am a very fast healer," Marcus said, keeping his voice perfectly calm as he stepped into the light.

Briggs narrowed his eyes, shifting the lantern closer. "Your iron chains are completely broken. The fractures in your ribs are gone. There is not a single mark on your face. Who came into this block last night? Who helped you escape your cuffs? Tell me right now, or I will call the entire guard staff to flay the skin from your back."

"Nobody helped me, Briggs," Marcus said, stepping forward until he was just inches from the corrupt captain. "The door was locked all night. You know that. But before you call for backup and make a scene, I have something that might interest you more than a broken prisoner."

Marcus reached deep into his linen pocket and pulled out a raw, fist-sized mana crystal he had quickly dug out of the glowing jungle floor before jumping through the rift. He opened his palm, presenting the stone. The crystal pulsed with a soft, deeply captivating blue light, casting an ethereal glow over Briggs’s stunned face.

Briggs gasped, his eyes widening to the size of coins. "Is that... is that a pure, raw mana stone? Where did you get this? A gem of this size and purity is worth more than a nobleman's entire salary for five years."

"It does not matter where I got it, Captain," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a low, serious whisper. "It belongs to you now. It can buy you a nice estate far away from this miserable dungeon. But it only stays in your pocket if you promise me three very simple things."

Briggs licked his dry lips, his absolute greed taking complete control of his senses. "What do you want, Vance? Speak quickly."

"I want a guarantee of no random cell searches by your guards," Marcus said, pointing a finger at him. "I want better food rations brought to my cell every evening. And most importantly, I want your complete, total silence about my physical recovery. You tell everyone I am still half-dead on the floor."

Briggs snatched the glowing crystal from Marcus’s hand with terrifying speed, stuffing it deep into his leather pouch as if it might disappear. He looked around the dark hallway nervously before locking his eyes back onto Marcus. "You are a very clever rat, Marcus. For a stone like this, I can easily ensure the guards stay far away from Cell 44. I will personally tell the Warden that you are still too weak to even lift your head from the straw."

"Thank you, Captain. I knew you were a practical man," Marcus said, leaning back against the wall.

Briggs turned his heel to leave the cell, but he stopped right at the threshold of the iron door. He looked back over his shoulder at Marcus, his face suddenly turning incredibly grim and serious.

"Do not get too comfortable in here, Vance," Briggs whispered, his voice barely audible. "You think you are safe because you bribed me, but you have no idea what kind of nest you are sitting in. The midnight execution squad that came for you last night? The ones you somehow avoided?"

Marcus frowned, stepping closer to the bars. "What about them? My uncle Thomas sent them to finish me off quietly."

"That is where you are wrong, boy," Briggs whispered, leaning his head close to the iron bars. "Warden Thomas did not send that squad. I checked the duty logs this morning. Those men were hired mercenaries dressed in guard uniforms. They were sent by an entirely unknown faction from the capital. Someone out there wants you dead and silenced before the Warden can even extract your family secrets."

Marcus felt a cold chill run down his spine. "An unknown faction? Who else knows about my family?"

"I do not know, but you have bigger problems arriving at dawn," Briggs said, his eyes darting down the dark corridor. "The Warden was furious when he found out the execution squad failed to find you in your bed last night. He has just hired a royal Inquisitor from the capital. A blind mage who specializes in mind-reading magic to interrogate you within twenty-four hours."

Marcus froze, his hand tightening into a fist. "A mind-reader?"

"Yes," Briggs nodded grimly, stepping back into the hallway. "He will look directly into your memories, Marcus. If he sees whatever secrets you are hiding in this cell, you are a dead man, and I will be executed right next to you for taking your bribes. You have until tomorrow morning to figure out a miracle."