Unspeakable Secrets The Alchemist Series (A Dark Medieval Progression Fantasy)

Chapter 53 Erik's Warning

As Erik promised, the guards came shortly after he left, carrying a tray laden with food.

They slid it through the gap under the gate into Connor's cell while Connor talked amicably with them. This time, he did not get a response and the guards turned and left without a word.

It was to be expected. No doubt they were abashed from talking with him earlier. They'd probably argued about it. But, in time, he would get to them again. Whether it would be before they arrived at their destination and the Syndicate rearranged his mind to fit their desires, Connor didn't know...

He turned his attention to the tray.

It held a plate piled high with steaming eggs, bacon, toast, sausages, and some kind of smoked fish. It smelled incredible. Beside it were two tankards. One of water and another filled with white wine. Both tankards were wooden. He would've thought that they didn't trust him with glass, but the tray held gleaming silver cutlery.

Including a knife.

Connor's mouth watered. He hadn't slept since before the attack on Zauberer and with the long night, he found himself both tired and hungry. But they'd only recently left port and his priority was still escape. He'd been without food before. Figuring out how to leave this cell before the Syndicate twisted his mind was of far greater importance.

He ignored the food and checked the cutlery more closely. He turned the fork over in his hand. Its prongs were slender, elegant things. Not perfect, but by far the best thing he'd come across so far for use as a lockpick.

He looked up at the door to the room, wishing he could hear better outside and cursing the suppression of sound.

He was sure that the ship was bustling with activity and there was every possibility that even if he got out of his cell, he would only have to return to it, or risk being caught. But, if nothing else, a chance to look around could prove useful. And, if he saw an opening, perhaps he could still make his escape now. While they were as close to Vigil as possible.

If he could slip away without being seen... It would be a hard swim back, but not impossible. Unless they spotted him of course. Then they could just sail back around to him and scoop him out at their leisure.

He shook such thoughts from his mind. He would assess the situation when and if he reached that point.

His exhaustion and hunger faded out of his awareness as he set his mind to the task before him.

He bent one of the prongs of the fork backward until it was almost ninety degrees, He then braced it against the floor and stood on it, slowly lowering his weight onto it until the slim prong snapped off.

He picked up the sliver of metal and the fork. Not ideal, but he'd made do with worse in the past. He bent another prong of the fork into the position he needed, slid the food tray to one side, and brought his makeshift lockpicks to the lock. The bent fork would act as a tension wrench while he picked the lock with the slender prong he'd snapped off.

Erik's warning filled him with tension. There was no telling what the enchantments upon the cell would do to him. Other than pain, as Erik had said of course.

But he could handle pain. Even death would be preferable to having his mind warped into a servant of The Syndicate. Why they hadn't done that to Victor rather than use a collar, he didn't know but he shook those thoughts aside. What mattered was getting out of this cell.

Connor calmed himself and prepared himself mentally for whatever may come. He wished that he had a potion of magic sight to aid him in this.

He reached deep inside himself and pulled on his magic. As always, it resisted him like some great unwieldy, slippery weight. But he forced it with his will, pulling it down toward his makeshift picks...