Chapter Four: Floundering

Bellavie laid on the ground of her new cell, stewing in frustration. She had been so close to freedom. Ashilis was exactly the kind of fool she had been hoping to exploit. He had trusted her words, set her free, and even brought her food, but then that oaf had to saunter in and ruined everything. She truly couldn't remember either Ashilis or Drym, much less any disruptions she might have caused to his plans—Drym might have made it all up just to torment her for all she knew.

It didn't matter, though. Effects are greater than causes, and Bellavie had effectively traded her chains for a box. An upgrade, certainly, but not nearly what she had been hoping for. At this rate she would never get to operate under her own power again. A prisoner's prisoner, not worth trusting and barely worth keeping alive.

Stop moping, she told herself. This is just a minor setback. I have a promise of food, protection, and as long as I need to manipulate my target. I'm in a much better position than earlier. Unfortunately, as much as she could logically recognize those words, Bellavie couldn't believe them. Doubt swam through her mind, gleefully poking holes in certainty. What if Ashilis abandons her? This close to the exit, the Vicarts would surely select her more often than not, and she would quickly lose herself. Or maybe Drym would kill her the moment Ashilis turned his back. Though Ashilis hadn't seemed to notice it, Bellavie didn't miss the malicious gleam in the brute's eyes.

She draped an arm over her eyes. At least she hadn't starved to death. She had only gotten close, barely a few steps from falling asleep and never waking up, before Ashilis yanked back to life so she could suffer some more. Maybe he had done that on purpose because he, like Drym, remembered some crime that Bellavie had committed and was now coming to punish her. Maybe she was the fool, too sure of her own cleverness to realize that she was being tricked.

The lie that altered Bellavie's appearance finally failed as she acknowledged that she really had been close to starving to death. She watched the arm over her face shrink, fat and muscle shriveling away, and could feel her stolen clothing fall more loosely on her body. The illusion hadn't actually made Bellavie feel any stronger, unlike the lie that allowed her to sneak off while Ashilis went to get food, but feeling herself shrink back down into her terrible true form brought a forced awareness of her weakness. She was exhausted, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

There was no more progress that she could make today. Even if there was, she could barely think, much less move—not even she could doubt that. So, Bellavie let out a slow sigh, and finally let sleep take her.

She awoke to a mushroom slamming into her stomach. She groaned, her aching body lighting up with dozens of different small pains. Where had all of yesterday's energy gone? Surely she couldn't have pushed herself this far just by stealing some clothes and walking across the Scarum. That disbelief didn't take hold. Perhaps she was simply too tired—Bellavie didn't even want to breathe for fear of wearing herself out. It took monumental effort to haul her arm off of her face and grab the morogrib. She rested there, dreading how difficult it would be to bring the mushroom to her mouth and chew.

In the meantime, she let her gaze fall to the side, to the small hole that acted as a window in her cell door. She saw a greasy mop of auburn hair and heard grumbling. Drym had decided to wake her. She glared at the back of his head, wishing that his story about her having put them in hot water with the Throttlers was true. Maybe then they would show up and strangle him. But of course that would be too easy.

She grunted, turning her attention back to the matter of feeding herself. First she pulled her other arm off of the ground, then gripped the mushroom with both hands and heaved. Her limbs shook with even that miniscule weight, but she managed to bring the morogrib to her lips. She opened her mouth and let the lip of the mushroom fall in, then relaxed her arms and held on with her teeth. It was too big to eat in one bite, so she could only take a single bite at a time before she had to reset the mushroom in her mouth.

The process felt like it took an eternity, but she eventually consumed the whole thing, and she could admit that she felt better for having done so. The two morogrib that she had been given weren't nearly enough to sate her hunger, but they were more than she had gotten in Zix knows how long. A few weeks of this and she would be in a much better state. If she survived that long, that is. She still wasn't convinced that Ashilis and Drym weren't plotting to kill her somehow.

She laid with those thoughts for a while. Eventually, the sound of roaring water drew Bellavie out of her mental malaise. The wash was beginning, and she could hear Drym stomping away outside, probably to find somewhere where he wouldn't get caught up in the rushing water. Good riddance.

The cell she was in was along the exterior wall, so she might be able to get a few sips of water before it all drained away. Some of it would wash into her cell, and while it wasn't going to be nice, it would at least keep her alive. Something about that thought stuck in her mind. Water. Drain. Where was the drain in this cell? Bellavie looked around, letting her head loll back and forth. She couldn't see it from where she was laying, but it would be positioned along the far wall, probably in the center...

Right where she was laying.

Bellavie's mind burst alive with panic just as the water began to spill into her cell. She even drew Panic's umbra, in the form of black lightning that zapped back and forth around the room, occasionally twisting into terrifying shapes. The water flowed in slowly but steadily beneath the crack in the door, and in a room with such an extreme slope, Bellavie knew that it would easily rise above her head if she didn't do something.

The first wave splashed against her face, and the cold was nearly as shocking as her panic. She strained herself, trying to move, but she couldn't do more than pull her head a few inches off of the ground. The consequences of using her abilities the way she had before were bearing down fully on her, and her overtaxed muscles simply couldn't offer her more than they already had.

Bellavie screamed as the water continued to rise, much faster than she thought that it would. She squirmed, trying to crawl towards the higher ground of the other side of the cell, but only managed to flounder and splash uselessly. It would be hard to clamber out of this flowing water even if she had her feet underneath her. As she was, Bellavie had no chance.

The water was over her ears by the time that she realized. This is what they were planning. They wanted to give her a tiny taste of hope and freedom, a bit of food and the idea that she might be able to connive her way out of the situation, then they let her drown. Rot take you, Ashilis, she thought as the water rose over her mouth. And Zix's own heart consume you, Drym. Even the Vicarts aren't this cruel.

She tilted her head back, barely able to breathe through her nose, and then the water overtook her. Even still, she refused to believe that this was the end. Was there something that her powers could do? Could she pretend that the water was gone? That she didn't need to breathe? She knew that wasn't how it worked, but she tried anyway. No water. No death. This isn't happening.

Bellavie felt the water vanish off of her for a moment, and she reflexively took a breath. Her lungs immediately flooded, and her doubt puffed away. She couldn't deny it any longer. Bellavie had been beaten. She let herself fall limp, staring through the murky water at the ceiling above. There was a strange serenity here, with the sounds of the Scarum muted in her ears. She could see shadows swimming in her vision, and somehow knew that Disbelief was lingering in the room, even though she had no doubt about what was coming. The rotting umbra never had left her alone.

A hand seized her around the arm, and Bellavie was dragged free of the water, and her serenity vanished. She sputtered, coughing, then retched the water out of her, along with the mushroom she had worked so hard to eat. She hung in her rescuer's grip for a long moment, wheezing, sobbing. When she finally blinked the water from her eyes, she found Drym staring at her, his face twisted in a grimace. He tossed her into the corner on the higher edge of the room, and Bellavie fell limply, so numb that the impact barely even hurt.

"Why?" Bellavie croaked.

"Ashilis thinks you are needed for the plan," Drym spat. "I do not agree. But he does not want you dead, so I have saved you. Once." He pointed at her. "Only once. You are lucky that your umbra's whispers tricked me. I would not have cared about your screaming otherwise." He kicked at the water—which was finally draining—then stomped out of the cell and slammed the door. She could hear his grumbling outside the cell even over the sound of the water draining away.

Bellavie closed her eyes, shaking and coughing. Why had Drym really helped her? She didn't believe that he just trusted Ashilis that much. Drym seemed to despise her, and no one would pass up such a golden opportunity to be rid of someone that they hated. Ashilis probably wouldn't even have blamed him for her death, if he didn't also want her dead like Drym claimed. It didn't make sense. Was he just prolonging her suffering?

"No death," Disbelief whispered in her ear before fading away.

Her mind latched onto the question that the umbra's words presented—anything to avoid thinking about what just happened to her. She hadn't been trying to trick Drym into saving her, so why had he heard Disbelief calling to him? That was the second time that the umbra had done something helpful recently. It was usually just a nuisance, a little alteration to the world that risked revealing Bellavie's lies. Ironically, Disbelief often made Bellavie doubt her own projections, which were themselves powered by doubt. She would doubt her own doubt, and spiral out of control from there. Bellavie had tried to avoid the umbra for that reason.

Perhaps she shouldn't have. Some people believed that umbra were alive, and that they had personalities and thoughts behind their actions. Bellavie wasn't one of them, naturally. She had thought them to be kind of like the weather, a little storm that raged whenever you did something to summon it. Now, Bellavie questioned. Was there a deeper reason for Disbelief's tendency to stick near her? Did the umbra like her? It would explain a lot.

Bellavie didn't know a lot about umbra, but she thought that they were more difficult to draw than she had experienced with Disbelief. Even if you did have a strong enough feeling to bring one to you, there was usually a bit of a time delay with all but the most responsive umbra, but Disbelief came to Bellavie within moments each time she used her powers. Was that because she doubted things that powerfully, or did Disbelief hover near to her—whatever that meant for an umbra—because she had drawn it so often in the past?

Her thoughts were starting to come more slowly as the panic of her near-death experience subsided, and she felt herself starting to drift. She jolted awake a few times, mind driving spikes of worry into her heart to keep her alert. Bellavie did not want to roll down the slope in her sleep, then be caught in another flood. Drym wouldn't save her twice.

Exhaustion eventually won, and Bellavie fell into fitful, nightmare-ridden sleep.

Bellavie awoke again to the sound of the door sliding open and closed. Bellavie cracked her eyes open, blearily taking in her surroundings. She hadn't tumbled down the slope and there was no water in the room. It took a few shuddering breaths to remind her that she was still alive. Well, she thought that she was—Bellavie didn't have much experience being dead. Plenty of experience with getting close to dying, but she didn't think that it had ever taken. Then again, maybe this was the afterlife, and she was being punished for all her lies.

She blinked a few times to break through her bleariness. A morogrib had been placed on the ground beside the door. It was sitting upside-down, with its domed cap serving as a bowl for a bit of water. Bellavie was on the other side of the room, right beside the door's hinges, but the cell was small enough that she could reach across and drag the mushroom to her. The water splashed and overflowed, and Bellavie pointedly looked away.

Fortunately, she had landed on her side when Drym tossed her, so it wasn't as difficult to get the mushroom to her mouth this time. She closed her eyes, spilled the water into her mouth, then took as big of a bite as she could manage. Bellavie chewed quickly, mixing the water and food into a mushy mess inside her mouth. It was gross, but better than swallowing the water on its own. She got enough of that earlier.

Bellavie ate it more quickly this time, and was actually feeling a little better by the end of it. Eating was something that only the living did. She was still alive. Bellavie harnessed that feeling to force herself up into a seated position, back pressed to the wall beside the door. That helped even more. Lying flat was probably better for her body, but being upright meant she was in control, holding herself up on her own power.

"How are you holding up?" Ashilis' voice asked softly from beyond the door.

Bellavie tried to speak, but all that came out was a wet cough and a groan.

"Stupid question, I guess," he said. "Here's a better one. Is there anything I can get you? I know the mushroom didn't hold much, so I could get you some more water."

"No!" Bellavie choked out. "No."

Ashilis fell silent.

Bellavie closed her eyes, shivering. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered.

"Because we can't trust you," Ashilis said gently. Bellavie hadn't realized that he would be able to hear her. "I thought about what Drym said, and I realized that he was right. You got into my head and made me release you. I can distinctly recall moments when I was talking to you where I felt reasonable caution fade away. I thought that I just felt bad for thinking that someone in trouble might be trying to trick me, but that wasn't it, was it?"

"You don't have to trust me. No one trusts anyone in the Scarum. Not trusting me isn't a good enough reason to keep me locked up," Bellavie snapped.

Ashilis sighed. "I don't want to, but you must recognize that your powers are a frightening thing to consider. You represent the idea that we can't even trust what little we think we know."

"So that's what it is, then. You're scared of me because I can do things that you don't understand."

"Yes," Ashilis said softly. "But more, it's how willing you are to use those frightening abilities on people who are just trying to get by. If I let you out right now, can you honestly say that you won't use your abilities to try and take advantage of me, or some other confused prisoner?"

"Yes, fine. I solemnly swear and all that," Bellavie said. "Now let me out."

"Bellavie," Ashilis said in a suffering tone. "You're doing it right now."

With a start, she realized that he was right. Bellavie had been subconsciously projecting doubt into Ashilis, making him second-guess his thoughts. She hadn't done it on purpose, but she didn't believe the words he was saying, and sometimes her disbelief seeped into others without her directing it to. Sheepishly, she retracted her projection.

"Thank you," Ashilis said, without a hint of irony.

Bellavie grimaced. The fact that he was noticing her influence even before she did was concerning. That he could notice when she relaxed it was downright alarming. It occurred to her then that she may have been severely underestimating her savior-jailor. Had her half-hearted efforts to make him sympathetic only taught him how to notice her manipulations? It was possible, she thought. The first things she recognized in Ashilis when they met were his perceptiveness and thoughtful nature.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I'll try to stop."

And, rot take her, she did try. Somehow, she found it difficult to deceive Ashilis—and not just because he was catching on to her ways. She can't help but to second-guess his words and intentions, at least for the moment, Bellavie chose to take his words at face value, discarding any doubts with active effort. He wants to trust her. He wants her to be free.

There were worse things to believe in than that.