"Did you submit your report?" Mason whispered eagerly.
"It's improper to talk within the hearing of a prisoner."
"Come on. When else are we supposed to talk? We're guarding her all the time." Mason replied.
"I would rather not talk to you at all, ever, if we're being blunt about it." Baker responded.
"Don't be like that. Come on. Did you submit your report or not?"
"Obviously, I submitted it. I'm always timely with my duties, unlike some other people," Baker's irritated voice floated softly through the prison cell.
"Well? What did you recommend?" The eager young soldier prodded.
"I made no recommendations, I merely reported everything. Men like us do not make recommendations to the Council. Wait. Did you try to make a recommendation in your report??" Baker's tone was incredulous.
"Not exactly. I let them know I thought she was faking the crying. It's an act. It has to be, don't you think so?"
Brenna remained tucked into the corner of her cell, knees up against her chest, blanket around her shoulders.
She swallowed the emotion in her throat. If her feelings seemed like a ploy for pity or attention, it was best to suppress them. No reason to let the guards hold more contempt for her than they did already.
"I drew no conclusions about what is or isn't an act. I recorded an accurate account of the prisoner's activities in the log for our superior officers." Baker said calmly.
"But do you think it is, or not?" Mason glanced into the cell, and Brenna laid on the floor and turned toward the wall. She was so tired, but hated to fall asleep. It was a quandary.
By ignoring the bed and sleeping on the floor, she woke up more often and more easily, giving her frequent reprieves from the Void's attempts to sway her.
Brenna was determined to remain steadfast.
"I think she must be an excellent actress," Baker finally responded after a long period of contemplation, "but I'm not sure whether she is acting or not."
"That's a ridiculous answer. You think she's a great actress but you're not sure if she's acting? What does that even mean?" Mason sighed with frustration.
"It means, I don't think anyone could serve the Void unless they were adept at deception and intrigue. She likely could be an excellent spy if she tried. But if she had sincerely turned away from the Void, I'm not sure what other way she would act. It's a difficult thing to discern."
Brenna rolled a little and lifted her head, turning to look at the more mature of the two soldiers. He was staring back at her with a contemplative expression when she met his gaze. Silently, she let her eyes plead for mercy and understanding from the man. Resisting the Void was difficult and she was desperate for a lifeline.
She expected him to break eye contact in either discomfort or disgust, but he frowned at her instead. Unable to bear up under the open scrutiny, she sighed and turned back toward the wall.
Brenna managed to keep her breathing even while angry tears coursed down her face. No one would ever believe her.
"Hm." He said to himself. He must have turned away, because his voice had become less direct than it was before.
Brenna knew she needed to either convince them of her story or escape and try and make it on her own. She held out a small bit of hope that the current guards would find it in their hearts to believe her.
As time moved forward, it seemed as though Baker might prove to be a much better person to have on her side.
"You're pretty smart." Mason chirped. "Would you execute her or let her go? If it was your decision, I mean."
"That's a false dichotomy."
"A what?"
"Those aren't the only two choices. Goodness, man. It's like talking to a child. Can you get a grip and guard silently the way you ought?" Baker sighed with bone-deep exasperation.
"Then what would you do?" Mason was apparently immune to Baker's insults, ignoring each of them as if they were compliments instead.
Either he was unusually self-confident, or simply didn't understand that Baker plainly didn't like him. Brenna honestly couldn't tell which. This back and forth between them was a regular routine by now, and Mason's spirit hadn't been dampened a bit by Baker's put-downs.
"It's not my decision. Nor yours. We do not need to contemplate that." Baker sighed.
"Maybe you will be in charge one day! Isn't it good practice to think through what you would do? Come on, Baker. You're bound to get promoted to a place where you'll have to actually make important choices like that." Mason's voice bubbled on with enthusiasm.
There was silence for a moment, and a shift of fabric against the wall. Brenna wasn't looking, but she wondered if Baker looked over his shoulder at her apparently-sleeping form.
"I would order her execution."
__________________
Roland stared at Jimmy.
"Are you sure?" He whispered.
"Sure as I am about anything," The smaller man shrugged. "The lady giant agreed to obey the Void, though your man Edmar was calling it Tamas or something. That halfling with him promised it could give the giants all sorts of stuff. They seemed a mite skeptical, but willing to give it a try if the Void can give them what they want first."
"What do they want?" Roland asked.
"To go below."
"Below?"
"That's what she called it. The down-under place. Giants apparently been trying to take it over for ages, but can't figure a way down without crashing and dying." Jimmy frowned.
"But why? Why do they want to go down there?"
"What? You think they gave a speech answerin' all your questions? I don't know."
A deep rumble interrupted their conversation. Roland looked at the giants to see what they were saying, but they were silent, staring… at him.
He froze, like a rabbit caught in a snare. Was their vision so good they could see him in the dark?
A crack and another rumble echoed around them, and Roland looked over his shoulder. Lightning. A storm was coming in from the sea, and quickly.
A moment of relief that the giants weren't looking at him, but past him, was quickly swallowed up by the knowledge that storms here apparently carried dangerous creatures with them.
"We need to get to shelter." Roland knew on some level the statement wasn't needed, but saying it out loud helped him focus on the immediate goal.
Judah was already on his feet nudging the man insistently with his feline face. Jimmy was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
"Fine, leave me behind. Great friend you are." Roland muttered.
Judah apparently became impatient and chirped angrily.
"You know where to go? Let's go."
The giant cat shoved him to the other side of the rock he'd been hiding behind. It was larger than he'd first realized, and on the far side, there was a hole easily large enough to fit through. The inside of the rock was hollow.
Roland hesitated for a moment before climbing inside. As soon as he did, a downpour of rain hit the ground outside. It was too late to turn back and try to find anywhere else.
"I hope this is your house and not something else's," He said. Judah chirped urgently in response.
Roland felt the slightest bit silly talking to the animal, but then again, he'd once spent months talking to a horse. Judah seemed more intelligent than that, and gave more of a response.
The inside of the hole was spacious enough for the feline to come easily in after him.
Though it was pitch black, Roland found he could stand up inside without hitting his head. Judah's spots glowed subtly, letting the man see that there was at least enough space for them to stand some distance apart. The hollow area of the rock covered some area, and below had been dug out to form a cave.
"Is this..." Roland looked at the hole he'd come in. "A giant's skull? A half-buried skull, not a rock?" He asked. Judah tilted his head and gave no answer. The man shuddered.
"Oof!" Came an irritated grunt from the entrance. Judah hissed slightly, but did not attack the intruder.
"Jimmy? I thought you ran off." Roland squinted in the dim light.
"I was scouting. Looking for shelter. Didn't know your cat already had one or I wouldn'ta bothered. Now I'm all wet for no reason." Jimmy complained.
"I didn't think to ask," Roland shrugged.
"You might be interested in knowing there's no place better out there to hide from the storm." Jimmy went on. "Your Cetoan folks are all gettin' drenched."
"I'm surprised the giants don't have some sort of house or something," Roland blinked at him.
"How would they? Digging a space big enough would punch more holes in the floor of this world. Could you built a house for yourself outta toothpicks? Bein' that big has its disadvantages." Even in the darkness, the smirk on Jimmy's face was clear in his voice.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"What's that?" Roland asked.
"Those things that attack women? Ain't just human women. Giant woman's swattin' them things off her like bitin' horseflies."