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III • are quiet and meaningless as wind in dry grass

CHAPTER THREE

A R E  Q U I E T  A N D  M E A N I N G L E S S  A S  W I N D  I N  D R Y  G R A S S

The girl sat against the stone walls, allowing Esperanza to cuddle against her and find any warmth that the girl was providing. It was cold in the cellar, far colder than normal, and the girl feared that she was the reason for the dropping temperature. This was some sort of punishment meant for her, yet it was the rest of the prisoners taking the brunt of it. Ever since her last interaction with Dolos, the prisoners had not been provided with any form of comfort.

It had been a long time since food was last delivered to the cellar, and the girl could feel the strength leaching from her bones. The cold hunger hovered over the occupants of the cellar, seemingly mocking them from its distance. The girl tried to ignore it, and instead shifted slightly in an attempt to make her bony body more comfortable for the young girl laying on her.

The cellar was quieter than normal, and the girl suspected that it was due to the combined chill and lack of food. The girl's bones ached, but she had to ignore it. Her eyes were heavy, but the coldness made it impossible to sleep. Her skin itched from layers of grime and sweat and blood, but she was powerless to do anything to assuage it. This was Dolos' game, and she was forced to be a player.

But, if Drew was really telling the truth, then that might not be the case for much longer; Drew promised freedom, and the girl was desperate for her to deliver.

"I'm hungry," Esperanza said softly, her words almost too quiet to hear; the pained breathing of the cellar's other occupants drowned it out.

"I know," was all that the girl could say. "I am, too."

"Do you think they forget to feed us?"

No. This was on purpose. But Esperanza, despite being trapped down here, still had the child-like ability to only see the good in people; she still saw their captors as human. So the girl nodded, and lied through her teeth. "Probably. Don't worry; they'll feed us soon."

It was a lie, but then again, so was everything else in their lives. Esperanza began to stroke the girl's hair, running her small fingers through the brittle strands. She hummed while doing so. The girl didn't recognize the tune, but she would have been surprised if she did. The girl remained still through Esperanza's ministrations, content to just lie there with the young girl. It was the closest that the girl had ever felt to peace.

"Did they hurt you yesterday?" Esperanza asked softly, her fingers continuing to stroke her hair. Yesterday. In truth, they had no idea how long it had been since the girl was interrogated; without the delivery of food to tell the passage of time, they had no idea what day it was.

The girl stiffened against the stone floor. "That's not for you to worry about; I'm fine."

"I don't like it when they hurt you, Mana. You always fight them when they come to hurt me, but you won't let me do that for you."

Did all six-year-olds talk like this? The girl didn't have a frame of reference, so all she could do was relax into Esperanza and smile as best as she could. She didn't know any other children, but there was something decidedly off about the way Esperanza interacted with the world; she seemed to be incredibly wise and mature, but she was still so young.

"I'm big enough to handle it," the girl said as a response. "You're still young."

Esperanza pouted. "That's not fair! They shouldn't hurt either of us!"