Dungeon of Torment

12. Dreams of Nailah

It was a moonless night. Nailah sat at her desk, the glow of the computer screen illuminating her face. The desk was littered with wrappers and empty water bottles, already an avalanche had sent some tumbling over the edge and onto the rug. Nailah moaned, rubbing her tired eyes. Hours of computer hacking and encrypting and still hours more to go.

Her melancholy thoughts drifted to Mouldface.

              Like a little goblin creature, he'd used to squat in his chair, his crooked spine hunched over his keyboard. He'd eaten as he worked, sucking his fingers clean – sometimes smearing the sticky digits on the front of his bobbled cardigan.

"Little worm." She could recall his voice perfectly, the croaky tones he'd used to croon her pet name in. "Wriggle over. Uncle Mouldface has something to teach you."

He'd yelled at Ramon once. She'd handed Mouldface a coffee and he'd caught sight of the broken skin on her knuckles.

"She's a warrior," Ramon had persisted unwaveringly. "We can't be soft on her."

"She's a kid, you brute. You soulless Agamemnon!"

Ramon hadn't appeared to yield, but later he'd brought her medicine for her hand – stoically applying it without a word after their training sessions from then on.

               Nailah dabbed at her watery eyes. Taking a break from work, she wheeled herself away from the desk. She struggled with the office door, the wood banging against the wheels of her chair. With a defeated sigh, she frowned down at the smooth stump of her left arm. Wheeling herself would be a lot easier with two arms. 

In the hallway at last, she made for the kitchens but sounds from the next room made her alter course. Curious, she looked to see the identity of her  fellow night wanderer. 

Kronos was sat at Phoebe's bar, he'd turned at the noise of Nailah's wheelchair and blinked in surprise at the sight of her.

"Evening," he offered by way of greeting. Nailah froze. She'd just happened upon the Titan King. The palace was silent, the rest of its occupants fast asleep, leaving them completely alone. Kronos got to his feet and made his way over to her, his kingly jacket twinkling beneath the lights. Nailah made to reverse but Kronos reached her first. He pushed her easily, steering her toward the bar. "What can I get you?"

Nailah stared, her lips slightly parted. Kronos stood behind the bar, ready for her order – prepared to play the role of barman. Nailah licked her lips nervously. She glanced at his glass, whisky. She patted her belly, reminding him that she was pregnant. Kronos' lips pulled up into a smile. "Hmm, something non-alcoholic then." He hummed as he searched through Phoebe's supply. Lacking any further instruction, he made her a fruity mocktail.

He nudged the glass to her before picking up his own. "To being alive still?" He suggested for a toast, raising his glass.

"To the unexpected." Nailah amended, clinking glasses. She studied Kronos as she drank. Nailah had learnt more about him from Phoebe. She knew now that he was half-human and that he'd been raised by humans.

"I've been curious about you," Kronos commented mildly. "Why Hyperion fell for you – I think I understand. But what made you love him?"