We landed into a long, well lit corridor, the walls a light grey stone. It was wide, though without windows. It could have been any basement corridor for all I knew - drab, simple, leading to a kitchen - aside from the issue that the only doors that led from it were iron bound wooden things, with a large barred window around head height. Being tall I had to duck down to peer through one, and saw a boring, bare room with no furniture and a single lamp set into a nook in a wall.

Morningstar tugged the chains, and the chiming bell sound filled the air. I glanced over to him and he gestured further down the corridor.

“I hardly use these,” he muttered, “So there are not many well furnished.”

“'Well furnished’?” I quoted. “Are you running a hotel now?”

“Hilarious,” he said dryly. “But this is necessary to make the girl silent.”

“You could have taken her memories of the few minutes she was there,” I replied, moving faster as he began to.

“No, she will be more useful to me aware, and with her feelings towards you …” he shrugged as he came to a sanded, newer looking door with an eerie sheen to the metal. “Well, you are terribly easy to take prisoner, with your lack of fighting.”

I shrugged slightly. I was pathetic in that realm. But in all my years of fighting I knew that physically struggling against bonds and people who had more power than you was useless. It was better to use wise words and quick wit to gain your station in life.

“Hmm,” he hummed, and waved a hand. The door to the room he was currently inspecting flew open. It revealed a small chamber, with a low metal-framed bed, a mass of blankets and a small un-doored chamber around the back. Peering to the side I caught the glimpse of a wooden lavatory seat.

“In you go,” he gestured, smiling at me pleasantly.

He dropped the end of the chains. As he did it melted away, sprinkling into a fine golden powder that rose upwards until it was nothing with the brilliant light of the lamps. The disintegration extended to my hands, where I felt a light, tingling sensation and the manacles too became nothing more than dust.

I rose my brows at it, marvelling at the spectacle as I gingerly touched my wrists.

A loud sigh behind me. “Char ...”

A hand shot past my face and pointed, irritated, into the cell. Realising what he meant I began to move, easing past him into the small but livable space. Helpfully he gave me a guiding push to finish my journey.

Unsurprisingly the door slammed closed behind me as I stumbled to my balance. There was the sound of a bolt being drawn and then a padlock being secured. As the click of the latter sounded there was a light brightness. The walls seemed to spring into life as a glittering shimmered over them, a wave of shimmer and shine. It covered the ceiling and floor, even edging around the corner, and when it fled towards me I jumped out of instinct.

“It is a simple barrier spell,” the voice from the door said. Twisting around I saw the handsome face of my brother, all proud with his huge horns twisting away from his head and leaning against the door. “Means you cannot escape using magic.”

“Ah,” I looked at him once before I looked around at my surroundings. The bed looked comfortable enough, but there was very little else entertainment wise. “Any chance of books?”

He paused, then replied. “You are a hostage, not a guest.”

I continued. “There were books in my office. One entitled, 'Lore of Old Dheathain’. It has some interesting stories about what the Calamity was.”

Morningstar rose his brows, and looked impressed. “Fine. You can have that one.”

“And the notes lying on top of it, please,” I went on, “And there are three on cultures who had prophecy at the heart of their societies. They will be useful.”

“Where are they?” he scowled.

“At the office also. Under the desk in a small leather saddlebag.”

“Fine,” he shoved a finger at me through the bars. “But no more, Char.”

Shrugging, I sat back on the bed, keeping my eyes steady on him. “You want me to be useful whilst I am here, brother? Then get me those books.”

He hissed angrily at me, then twisted away, saying, “if she never comes to me, you are staying there forever.”

“I know you. You'll get bored. You'll let me out sometime,” I lifted up my legs, swinging myself into the bed. It was not the most comfortable thing, but it would do. Carefully, I laid back, swinging my hands behind my head.

“Possibly,” he muttered, and I grinned.

He wouldn't last a month.