Chapter 11

Wake up!

Penelope moans, stirring slightly.

Get up, damn you. There’s something in here with us.

The witch’s eyes fly open. Her first reaction is to roll over to see what it is, but she fears that such a startling action might end in something bad. So instead, she just lies there for a moment, trying to keep her breathing steady.

What are you doing? Get up and see what it is.

Pushing Hazel’s voice to the side, she tries to listen to everything around her. There is a lot of noise from other prisoners in other parts of the dungeon. Luckily there are not any near her so she is able to listen better. And in a few moments she begins to hear the breathing of someone else other than herself. She rolls over slowly into the light. For a brief moment the light makes her eyes slam shut. When she opens them again, they readjust and she can barely make out a figure sitting in the shadows just outside the rays of the sunlight.

“Who are you?” she asks cautiously.

“I’m Faart,” comes a meek voice.

Penelope almost giggles. Hazel bursts out in full laughter. Faart? I wonder what his parents were high on.

“I’m Penelope,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Faart is happy to see someone here, but it’s a shame you’re not staying long.”

“How do you know?”

“Faart has only seen catgirl a few times in cell before she taken and stuffed.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen to me,” she says matter-of-factly.

That a girl! How?

“Faart wants to know how you intend to escape.”

The witch bites her lip. “I don’t know yet.”

“Hard for catgirl to escape if she not know how to escape.”

“I’m not ... never mind,” she says, sighing heavily.

Yeah, pretty pointless correcting people when they’re not going to listen.

“I don’t know how I’m going to escape, and not until I at least try to find the king’s son.”

Oh boy. You’re still hoping to find the kid? I don’t know about you, but I prefer to stay alive. Staying alive means escaping.

“You mean Geubert?” Faart asks.

Wait? What?

“I guess that’s his name,” the witch says, pressing a smile on her face.

“He’s here in the dungeon,” Faart says. “Right over there as a matter of fact.” Penelope spins around to look behind her through the bars to a metal door on the opposite side. “He never gets to come out.”

“I’m sure I could persuade the jail keeper to let me in there,” Penelope thinks aloud.

“You could if the executioner was the jailor too,” Faart says, bursting her bubble.

So there goes that. We’re in one hell of a pickle and it’s all your fault.

“All my fault?”

Yep.

“You’re the one that wanted to come here in the first place.”

Only because of that stupid lizard.

“That stupid lizard sure could eat pussy, couldn’t he?”

Yeah he could.

“Faart hate to break up you talking to self, but Faart can help you.”

“How so?”

“Faart knows of a way in and out.”

What a little shit. He knows we’re trying to get out of here...

“What would it take for you to tell us ... I mean me?”

Is that the answer to everything? You just offer up...

“Faart asks for nothing.”

What?

“What?”

“Faart not ask for anything,” he repeats. “Exit through dark corner over there.”

Penelope swivels around to peer into the darkness. She doesn’t see anything right away so slowly she gets onto her hands and feet and crawls over. And sure enough there is an opening just large enough for someone her size to fit through.

The little shit is right.

“But what about the information?” she asks the cat.

“I know how you can get into Geubert’s cell,” Faart offers.

How?

“How?”

“A key,” he answers. “Faart knows where key is too.”

“Do you have it?” the witch asks, sounding desperate.

Don’t forget we need to get out of this cell too.

“Faart not have, but Faart know where it is.”

“Well, that’s not going to do us, me any good stuck in here,” Penelope says with a sigh.

“Oh no,” Faart says quickly. “Key good for any lock in dungeon.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Faart knew man that had key.”

“Had the key?” she asks, standing up. “Where’s it at now?”

“Man still have.”

“Is he coming back?”

“No.”

“Then how does it help me?”

“You go to man and get key and then come back,” he says. “Does Faart have to spell out for you?”

Um, yeah.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” she retorts.

“Faart sorry,” he says. “Faart just want to help.”

“It’s fine. At least you apologize,” the witch says, grinning inwardly. “Tell me where to find him.”

“Man in graveyard.”

“Graveyard?”

I’ll let you fuck goats, trolls and pervert old men, but I have to draw a line somewhere and a graveyard is where I draw that line.

“Man dead. He never save Geubert. Man buried with key.”

“Well that doesn’t help me,” the girl says resigning.

“On no, girl can dig up body and get key from man.”

“I can?”

You can’t.

“I tell girl where key is. She dig up and come back to get Geubert.”

Or have this little shit do it.

“Can you help me?”

“Faart is helping. He give you knowledge of key.”

“I mean help dig it up.”