Patrik prepared the charm satchels and red paint we needed to expand the protection spell into the underground and to redo the symbols that Harper had painted at the top level, along with the invisibility paste for Fiona.

I put them all in my backpack and checked my pockets for lighters. The chances of another daemon attack so soon after the explosions were minimal, but I couldn’t risk it.

Patrik walked over to the dead daemon still lying on the table in the infirmary and muttered something under his breath. A soft golden light began to emanate from the creature’s body as it was lifted a few inches above the table. He then took several rolls of bandages from a nearby cupboard and proceeded to wrap the daemon from head to toe.

“What are you doing, Patrik?” I asked, as Fiona swallowed the invisibility paste.

The Druid gave me a brief look before he resumed his work of carefully wrapping the creature.

“I’m preparing both bodies for their funeral,” he replied. “Minah will join the procession tomorrow, but the daemon will need to be put to rest elsewhere. I’ll most likely incinerate him in the morning before everyone else comes out.”

“Why are you bothering yourself with giving the daemon a funeral service of any kind? He was a killer, a monster.” Fiona frowned, slowly disappearing as the spell took effect.

“Because it’s in my nature as a Druid.” Patrik sighed, rolling the daemon’s levitating body over as he unraveled a second bandage roll around his massive torso. This was a job for at least six rolls, judging by his size. “We honor life, no matter who it belongs to. Even the fiends back home—the Destroyers and the incubi that sided with Azazel and perished… We said a few words for them, too, when we burned their bodies outside Luceria. All life is precious, and all loss of life is tragic, regardless of how one’s time in this world was spent. Besides, daemons are worthy opponents and ruthless warriors; they deserve a sliver of decency, unlike the Sluaghs back on Calliope…”

I nodded slowly. It kind of made sense, especially once I put myself in Patrik’s shoes. He’d spent years as a Destroyer. He’d witnessed so many atrocities firsthand, reduced to being someone who inflicted pain, rather than fulfilling his Druid nature as a healer, a nurturer. He’d survived a war and decades of oppression, after all, and hadn’t lost his common sense and decency. I glanced at the daemon and wondered if he had any family waiting for him. Who did he get himself killed for? A lover? A son? They all had a story, whether we wanted to acknowledge it or not.

“I don’t know, Patrik,” Blaze offered. “I think Rewa and the families of those who’ve lost loved ones to daemons might disagree…”

“Perhaps so.” Patrik gave us a sad smile. “But it’s in my nature to honor life and mourn death. It’s more of a custom, rather than anything else. If I refrain from showing compassion even toward a daemon, then I am not faithful to Druid ethics and traditions. Even Azazel got a brief funeral. I burned his remains and spread them across the land. No one cried, of course, but nevertheless, his passing was observed.”

“Thank you, Patrik, for not abandoning your nature. We’re off now, and we’ll see you in a bit,” I said, and walked out.

Blaze and invisible Fiona followed, as one of Caspian’s Correction Officers waited outside to take us into the prison.

“Here we go,” Fiona whispered behind me.

“Good luck, Fi!” I breathed.

“Ready?” the Correction Officer asked as we reached him.

Blaze and I nodded, and he guided us up the stairs toward the third level and through a network of dark and narrow alleys, until we reached an old wall with a large iron door. The Mara pulled a lever back, causing it to screech loudly, and the door opened.

We went in, and walked through a corridor just as dark and narrow as the alleys for about fifty yards before a set of stairs took us all the way to the underground level in a tight spiral. I tried to keep my eyes on the lower part of the damp wall to my right—if I looked at the stairs, I could lose my balance.

Blaze was in front of me when Fiona slipped and bumped into me from behind, prompting a domino effect that ended with Blaze casually catching me in his arms. Fiona whispered an apology, and the Correction Officer gave us an over-the-shoulder frown.

“Sorry, I slipped!” I said out loud, for the Mara’s ears, then looked up at Blaze, whose arms were still tightly wrapped around me, making my upper body tingle. “You can let go now…”

He inhaled deeply, then released me and continued descending the stairs. We quietly followed. Several minutes later, we reached the prison. The temperature had dropped by a couple degrees, further confirming that we were deep underground.

There was a large iron gate ahead, which the Mara unlocked and pulled to the side, allowing us access into the prison.

“I’ll be waiting here,” he said.

I nodded and followed Blaze inside. The cellblocks spread out around us in the huge cylindrical space. Correction Officers patrolled each level and the narrow passageways linking different sides. Hopeless whimpers and moans trickled out from the cages below on the ground level, sending chills down my spine.

We made it to the bottom, where the tunnels awaited, completely sealed with thick blocks of limestone.

“Well, good to see they held up their end of the bargain and closed off the tunnels,” I muttered, and got the charmed satchels out of my backpack.

“It was in their best interests, after all,” Blaze replied. He then took a compass out from his back pocket and flipped it open. “Okay, let’s do east first, since it’s right here.”

We moved closer to the wall to our right. Blaze used a metal pick he’d brought with him from upstairs to carve a hole through the stone, while I carefully looked around. Fiona had left our side, looking for Demios.

I paid close attention to the Correction Officers, noticing their stern and somewhat concerned expressions as their eyes followed us around. They were most likely on edge, after the explosions—not that they’d been the friendliest dudes the day before, but still, I had to give them the benefit of the doubt.

They’d lost dozens of Maras and Imen up there; surely they weren’t used to such a high number of casualties. Some of the victims could very well be family members.

I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the prison gave me, though. The moans of nearby prisoners kept tying my stomach up in knots. I caught glimpses of their profiles in different cages. From what I could tell, the bottom level was for the worst offenders, comprised of small and seemingly uncomfortable iron cages, while the cells above provided more space and even single beds for the inmates.

“I wonder what they’re in here for,” I mumbled, holding the charmed satchels in my hands.

“Probably thieves, murderers, and traitors,” Blaze replied, somewhat absently, as he carved a hole deep enough for one of the satchels. “I have a hard time thinking they’re all innocent.”

“I don’t doubt you’re right.” I sighed as he took one of the charm bags and shoved it into the hole. “I’m just wondering what got them here in the first place. I mean, Arrah said her brother was innocent, for example. He was accused of treason, conspiring against the city, but they didn’t give any details. They just hauled his butt to jail…”

“Fair enough. That’s one guy who might not belong here. What about the rest of them?” He glanced at me, his hands busy covering the satchel in the hole with the chunks of rock he’d carved out. “I mean, people of all species commit crimes. It’s obviously in our natures—be we dragons, fae, vampires, or humans. As members of GASP, we’ve seen it over and over. Then we got here and… Well, it’s the same.”

“Do you think they deserve to die, though?”

I wanted to better understand Blaze. He offered viewpoints that were dramatically simple, but very honest. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the thoughts he did voice, he dispensed carefully and eloquently. I liked that about him.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think any of us are capable of determining who deserves to die and who doesn’t. I’ve killed plenty of creatures so far, but they were all trying to kill us first… Self-defense, you know? But these people here? I doubt it. I bet they’re already paying for their crimes.”

Blaze had a point. Even if Arrah was right and her brother was, indeed, innocent, we couldn’t be sure about the other prisoners. Maybe they did deserve to be behind bars. Then again, maybe they didn’t. With everything else that was going on in this city, the Exiled Maras’ legal system was slipping farther down to the bottom of our priorities list.

I only hoped that the charmed satchels would work this time around. After the attack on the Lords’ mansions, we desperately needed a win against the daemons, even if it was in the form of a protective spell.

Too many lives depended on us, including our own.