chapter 4

Maya waited until she was sure that Greldedor was absorbed in her conversation with Sylvia and the dragon before making her move.

Was the plan particularly sophisticated? Well, no. It was the same plan as the previous day with the slight variation that Sylvia tried to engage Brightscale in addition to Greldedor in meaningless smalltalk while Maya tried to sneak into the basement. So far, however, it seemed to be working.

The door to the basement was, predictably, locked, but Maya for once was prepared; she had, for the entire time of her imprisonment, a small lockpick secreted away in her shoe and was at last about to use it. She felt a surge of self-satisfaction at the knowledge that it had after all been a useful item to pack.

The lock was old enough that it took comparatively little time (by the standards of lock-picking) to open it. The bolt moved with a satisfying thunk and Maya pushed the door open to see – there, her staff, and Sylvia’s armor, and something else – a large, clear crystal mounted in an elaborate tangle of vines and roots.

She took a step down into the darkened room, thanking the Gods for her luck, when she felt something grab her from behind.

Greldedor sighed noisily. “You really can’t leave well enough alone, can you? What on earth were you planning to do, anyway?”

Maya let out a breath through gritted teeth as Greldedor levitated her towards the sound of her voice and turned her so that she was facing the old witch.

“You’re really making this difficult for me,” Greldedor continued in a tone that could best be described as whining. “First of all, I never asked for you two to come out here. Secondly, I try to treat you with every courtesy – a nice room with a window, time outside every day, good meals – and you still try to escape!”

“Of course we’re trying to escape,” Maya snapped, irritation overcoming every other emotion. “You’re holding us prisoner. Why are you even bothering to do that, anyway?”

“Of course I’m holding you prisoner,” Greldedor mocked. “You’re agents of the queen! I’ve been hiding from her out here for the last thirty years. I can’t have two whelps like you giving me away.” She sighed. “I need to either get you two on my side, wipe your memory of this place, or… I don’t know.”

Maya was surprised at how actually exasperated the witch sounded. She wondered how much of her behavior at the dinners had been an act – or if this was the act.

“Can you promise to not tell the queen I’m out here and to never come back and bother me again?” Greldedor looked almost pleading.

“I promise,” Maya said immediately.

Brightscales chose this moment to rumble a comment. “The mage is lying,” he declared evenly. “I can hear it in her heartbeat.”

Maya glared. “Thanks for that.”

Greldedor sighed. “That’s it, I suppose. No more time outdoors until I figure out what to do with you two.”

“It would be much easier,” the dragon noted, “to simply let me eat them, as you’ve been promising.”

Greldedor huffed and began walking back around towards the front of the building, a floating Maya in tow.

As they rounded the side of the building, Maya saw Sylvia, who was restrained by some roots that seemed to have emerged from the ground at the witch’s command. The knight looked somewhat embarrassed. The way she was being held, her shirt had ridden up, exposing her pudgy pink tummy, which Maya very pointedly tried not to look at. In the corner of her mind she wondered why the swelling hadn’t gone down more from the previous night’s dinner.

“Hello, milady,” Sylvia said miserably.

“Hello Sylvia.”

“I don’t think the plan worked very well, milady.”

“No, I don’t think it did.”

They were both silent as they were unceremoniously dragged back to their cell. There was no real opportunity for resistance, although Maya did see Sylvia struggling against the roots. Experimentally, she tried to move her arms, but it was as if she was held in some giant invisible fist.

“Now, don’t try anything else,” Greldedor said as the room closed behind her. “I’ll come get you two for dinner.”

Sylvia sighed deeply. “Well, at least we have something to look forward to.”

Maya said nothing and only glared at the spot where Greldedor had been. “We’ll get out of here somehow.”

The mage spent the next several hours pacing furiously up and down the length of the cell, trying to come up with something – anything – to get them out of their predicament. Guilt prickled at the back of her mind as she slowly came to the conclusion that it was her fault that they were in this mess.

Eventually the sun sank in the sky and the light in the cell faded. Maya stopped pacing and sat on the bed to wait for what she knew was coming.

The sound of stone grinding on stone announced Greldedor’s arrival. The old witch peered in through the hole in the wall.

“Well, are you coming?”

Maya stood slowly from the bed. As she moved, she heard Sylvia start to stir next to her – the knight, it seemed, had fallen asleep.

Greldedor wordlessly guided the two down the stairs to the main room where, once again, a gorgeous magically-conjured feast had been laid out. Maya noticed with a surge of nervousness that there was undoubtedly more on the table this time than at the last two meals. How was Sylvia going to finish all of this?

At first, the night was an exact repeat of the last two performances. Maya, still feeling a tinge of guilt, served herself a fairly large portion of the goose and carrots that seemed to be the main platter, but stopped as soon as she felt herself full.

After that, she watched Sylvia put away an impressive portion of the spread. For a while, she thought that all would be well – the knight had become strategic about how she ate, and made good, steady progress through most of the varied dishes before her.

Before long, however, Maya noticed that her guard was slowing down. She stopped to take more drinks of the tankard of wine before her and kneaded her growing gut with her free hand. After putting away a small quiche, she suddenly buried her face in both hands, her shoulders hunched.

“It looks like your friend has had enough, Maya Alzeanath,” Greldedor observed, untroubled. “Will my dragon eat tonight?”

“I’m fine,” Sylvia choked out. “Just need a moment.”

Maya gave Greldedor a cool glance. “I don’t know why you’re doing this,” she said, “but I don’t think you really intend to feed us to your dragon.”

“No,” Greldedor replied in an equally icy tone, “but I do intend to have you finish. I’d hate to have my spellcasting go to waste.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Maya saw the knight start to pick up her fork again. “Sylvia, you don’t need to eat anymore. There’s no reason.”

Greldedor raised an eyebrow. “So you’re going to help this time?”

Maya gave her head a firm shake. “No. Why should I? You’re not going to follow through on your threats.”

Greldedor scowled. “Perhaps I won’t,” she said, “but there are other ways I can make you do what I want.”

At that, Maya felt herself once again, in the palm of a great invisible fist. She began to struggle, only for the hand to squeeze tighter.

“Milady!” There was a clatter as Sylvia stood, knocking over her chair. Out of the corner of her eye Maya saw the woman grab her fork and prepare to lunge at Greldedor. “Let her go!”

“Sylvia, don’t,” Maya choked out, feeling the air being squeezed from her lungs. Sylvia glanced from Maya to Greldedor and back, and then slowly, tensely bowed to stand her chair back up and sit back down.

“I’ll do what you want,” Maya managed to get out, fear overcoming her humiliation.

“Good,” Greldedor said, and Maya felt the grip on her loosen – but only a little.

“What are you doing?” Maya squirmed a little but it quickly became clear that Greldedor was not letting her go free.

Greldedor didn’t respond, but Maya got a clear impression of what was to follow as another invisible hand lifted a plate of food – some kind of barley dish – and floated it over towards Maya. A spoon rose up to meet it and held a bite out to the mage.

At first, she tried to resist, but the great hand started to squeeze again and she realized that she had no choice. Steeling herself, she opened her mouth and allowed herself to be fed.

The humiliation lasted for what felt like years. One spoonful after another, one dish after another, Maya ate. Some part of her mind was aware of a certain enjoyment in it – the flavors and aromas of the food, the feeling of being gently held and fed, the heaviness of her gut as it was filled and overfilled gradually overtook her in waves of peaceful pleasure. She would enjoy this, she decided.

Too soon, it was over. Maya blinked, expecting another bite, but it didn’t come. Slowly, the hand released her.

Immediately, almost involuntarily, one hand went to her swollen belly. There again was that strange warmth.

Greldedor looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Now, was that so bad?”

After a moment, Maya replied. “No.”

Greldedor nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.” The old witch stood. “Now,” she continued, “it’s time for bed.”

Maya allowed herself to be guided back to her room in a haze of confused feelings. As soon as the lights were off and she was sure that Sylvia was fast asleep, she allowed herself to prod and rub at her distended stomach, feeling the tight bloated roundness there, and wonder if it was really so bad being held here.