The stone walls of the dungeon were damp and uneven, dripping with the kind of silence that made your skin crawl. Lyra crouched behind a support pillar, heart racing, while Penny approached the guards with an easy smile and a tray in her hands.
"Evening again," Penny chirped, balancing the tray carefully. "I brought something warm for the prisoner. Orders from the top."
The two guards glanced at each other. One of them—the stockier one—grimaced. "She's refused food all day. Don't see the point."
"Still," Penny replied with a light shrug, "we wouldn't want her keeling over from hunger before she's had the chance to spit in someone else's face, would we?"
The thinner guard gave a dry chuckle, but the stocky one crossed his arms, unmoved. Penny's eyes flicked to the side briefly—just enough to confirm Lyra was still hidden. She needed to act now.
Suddenly, she stepped back with a startled yelp.
