I don’t remember the dates during which the Druid delegation was on Neraka,” Caia muttered, frowning as she tried to go over what she’d read in the Druid archives the night before our deployment.

“But it’s something between eight and ten thousand years, for sure,” Harper replied. “The Exiled Maras came here well over ten millennia ago. And the delegation itself crash-landed not long after that.”

“Either way, as fae, we have very long lives ahead, still,” Idris said.

“Provided we get you guys out of here,” Harper said. “You two look like you can barely stand, at this point.”

“They’ve been feeding off our souls for as long as we’ve been here,” Rayna replied, tearing up again. “Once a month, one of the Seven Princes comes in here and leisurely consumes our very beings.”

“You’re much stronger supernaturals, by nature,” Harper said. “You have a higher resistance to this practice, but I doubt you’ll last another century if they keep draining you like this.”

“It’s why they came to us, after all,” I sighed. “Their current so-called food supply is withering away. They need more of the fae and Mara caliber, and other strong species, as well, to continue this feeding frenzy.”

Vesta exhaled, with one arm still wrapped around her mother’s shoulder. “We need to get them out of here,” she said.

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Velnias replied, shaking his head.

“What do you mean? They’re dying here!” Vesta retorted, getting angrier with every second that went by. It didn’t faze the daemon, though. Velnias’s cruel realism hit us all in the gut.

“Not while Cayn is in Draconis,” he said. “No one gets out until Cayn leaves. He should be out in a day or two, tops. In the meantime, all I can do is help you people explore the prison, speak to delegation members, and help you find out where they’re keeping the witch. If we break anyone out now, the entire city will be in an uproar, and the last thing you want is King Shaytan’s undivided attention.”

A few moments went by in an almost deafening silence. As much as we all hated to admit it, Velnias was right. Making a move now was counterproductive, given how eager the First Prince was to please his father. With Cayn still in town, our options were limited. Technically speaking, we could try to be cowboys and bust everyone out, but the effort would amount to nothing without the swamp witch’s location.

Most importantly, if we did help the others escape right away, it could severely diminish our chances of finding the swamp witch in the first place. “Velnias has a point,” I muttered, not bothering to hide my displeasure at having to say it out loud. “If we try breaking anyone out right now, the daemons might get extra paranoid and move the swamp witch elsewhere. I think, for the next couple of days, at least, that we need to be careful and discreet, while we explore this place and work out a feasible plan to get everybody to freedom and safety.”

I felt just as miserable knowing I’d left Zane behind for the same reason. He’d helped me, despite our somewhat rocky introduction. He’d helped us all, and I had to leave him behind, for the time being. But, like I’d told Vesta, too, I knew where to find him. And I was definitely coming back for him—preferably sooner, not later. There was something brewing between us, the kind of magnetism I’d never experienced before, and I wanted to see where it could take me. I basically had the hots for a daemon, but, given my current circumstances, that really wasn’t the craziest thing in my life.

“But I’ve only just found my parents,” Vesta said, her voice trembling. I felt sorry for her, but it was in her best interests, too.

“At least you know where they are,” I offered. “And, provided no one else knows you’re related, the daemons won’t try to use your parents against us. Against you, specifically. Let’s focus on the main task right now. Let’s keep our eyes on the grand prize. We need to find out where the swamp witch is being held. Once we know that, we can plan accordingly and get everyone out safely, not just the witch.”

Vesta nodded slowly, then gave her parents an apologetic look. They both hugged her, and Idris gently squeezed her shoulder in a reassuring manner. “Don’t worry, honey,” he said. “They’re right, actually. We are safer here, for the time being, than out there. And now that we know you’re alive and fighting so hard, we’ll hold out and wait for you to come back for us. We have all the faith in you.”

“We don’t know where they’re holding the swamp witch, though,” Rayna sighed. “We know she’s still alive, but after our first escape, the daemons have been pretty careful about their conversations in our presence.”

“They figured out that, if we could escape once, we could do it again. So they didn’t want us to have access to any sensitive information, not even rumors,” Idris added.

“That is true,” Velnias confirmed. “We have protocols in place for creatures like Idris and Rayna. My guards are instructed to keep their mouths shut at all times. I know Rayna here loves to engage in… meaningful conversation.”

Velnias chuckled, and Rayna shook her head in response. “I still can’t believe you’re a pacifist. You deserve to be drawn and quartered for the way you’ve tormented us until now.”

We all looked at Velnias, our frowns making him visibly uncomfortable. He shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he replied. “I’m only playing my part. I’m one of the very few pacifists that are higher up on the daemon food chain. It’s thanks to creatures like me that the resistance has grown over the past few years. Unfortunately, yes, I’ve had to do some terrible things to maintain my image, but it’s precisely this authenticity that has kept the suspicions at bay. It’s why I was able to bring these people here, today.”

As cruel as that sounded, Velnias was right. Despite his somewhat sociopathic behavior, his motivations as a pacifist were deeply rooted in his being—otherwise we would’ve found ourselves inside charmed meranium boxes, as well.

“So, what now, then?” Vesta asked. “We keep touring the prison?”

“The Druids from the delegation might have a better idea as to where they could be holding the swamp witch,” Idris replied. “I haven’t seen a Druid in ages, but they’re strong creatures, like us. At least two of them should still be alive, as they were still young and fresh out of the Grand Temple on Persea at the time.”

“Oh, they’re definitely still alive. I’m in charge of one, actually.” Velnias smirked. “I suggest you bid your farewells now, so we can go see what he’s up to. Once you get the information you need, you can draw up a plan to get everyone out of here. And, of course, I’ll help you implement it.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, Velnias,” Rayna replied.

Vesta hugged and kissed her parents one last time as the rest of us made our way back to the door.

“I’ll see you again soon, I promise,” Vesta said to Idris and Rayna.

“I know you will, honey,” Idris replied, smiling softly.

I checked my invisibility spell supply, concluding that I had enough for two more uses. Velnias followed my gaze, then smirked at the sight of the shimmering paste in its belt satchel. “I hope you’ve got enough to last you till you get out.”

“We obviously came prepared,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Velnias, then you go out first, and make sure the coast is clear,” Hansa said, scowling at him.

“Absolutely.” Velnias chuckled, then opened the door and checked the dead-end alley before he confirmed it was clear. “Let’s go.”

One by one, we got out, with Vesta last. She once again promised her parents that she would see them again soon enough.

“Just be careful,” I heard Rayna say, just as we stepped outside, and Velnias locked the cell door with his charmed keys.

“Now, let’s go find ourselves a Druid.” Velnias grinned, then guided us to the next meranium box.

As much as I tried to keep a clear head, I couldn’t help but let hope blossom in the back of my head—the hope that the Druid in Cell 6 had all the answers we needed. It felt as though the more time we spent on Neraka, the more difficult and complicated everything got.

We needed a break, and I wholeheartedly wanted it to be in the form of the Druid next door.