The House of Cards

The Neither Prison

The Neither Prison

The cool vorpal of the collar digs into my neck as I vomit into the bucket again, even if there is nothing left in my stomach to come up.

Solomon called it magic sickness, when you stretch too far beyond your limits.

"It will run its course," he said, rubbing my back after I had woken up in a feverish sweat, shaking all over. "You just need to give it time."

By my best estimate, that had been three days ago. The House of Pentacles had tossed us back into the cells the demons had kept us in, but this time, Solomon was in the cell Gwin had once occupied.

I press my forehead onto the rim of the barf bucket.

I do not even now what they did with her body.

A hand reaches through the bars to squeeze my shoulder. Daniel. They had tried to put Jack in cell next to me, and had realized what a mistake that was when I had wrapped my hands around his throat.

"Are you feeling any better?" he says, voice so low that only I can hear. It is a silly question, and I do not reply. I have not replied in days. After a moment of my silence, he squeezes my shoulder again and retreats, a silent acknowledgement of my need to be left alone.

My stomach churns again, and I pull my head up just fast enough to retch into the bucket.

I am disgusting.

When I am done, I lean my head back against the bars of the cell, drawing my knees up to my chest and the bucket closer to my stomach. The smell stopped bothering me days ago. Just as I let my eyes drift shut, the lock on my cell door scrapes open.

I sit up straight, and my head spins.

The door slides open, revealing a woman dressed in the dark fabrics of the House of Pentacles, the red diamond stitched on her upper arm. She wears fingerless gloves, hiding the rank tattooed on the inside of her left palm.

"Lady Maeve," she says, nose wrinkling. The smell might not bother me, but of course it would bother her. "Your presence has been requested."

I stare at her. She has a pretty face; normal looking, clear skin, dark hair drawn back in a high ponytail. She must not rank very high in the deck to look so normal.

When I do not move, she tries again. "That was an order, not a suggestion."

"Major Arcana do not bow to the orders of your House."

After days of no use, my voice cracks when I speak. But I do not flinch when it does, staring down the little Pentacles girl.

Unfortunately for me, she does not back down. Instead, she smirks. "Lady Nine said you might be difficult." She raises her hand, gesturing to someone behind her. "Grab her."

I do not resist as two larger members of the House of Pentacles storm into my cell and grab me by the arms, hoisting me to my feet. One even had the forethought to remove my bucket from my lap before they spilled vomit all over the floor.

Between the two of them, they manage to wrestle me out the door and into the hall. My legs shake as I stumble along with them, my stomach only flipping once or twice. I manage to keep down the burning bile that rises in my throat.

Outside, I see another set of peons dragging Jack from his cell. He puts up much more of a fight than I, and after a moment, one of the guards cuffs another vorpal collar around his neck and he goes still.