[edited: 04/10/2017]

Sarah was not sure how long she had been in the cave now, only that it felt like months. Her eyes stung in the constant darkness and her body trembled from the cold damp. The water on the cave floor, dark and murky, sometimes rose all the way to her waist so that her jeans, loose on her from having had no change of clothes, stuck to her now chapped skin. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she would be trapped forever when the sound of Ackmard's feet splashing in the water broke her out of her thoughts. Even in the dark, she could tell that he was smirking to himself.

"You were correct, mortal girl," he admitted and shrugged his black trench coat off, leaving it to hang on a particularly tall stalagmite. "Getting what I want has not been as easy as I had hoped. It seems your friend is more stubborn than I anticipated."

Sarah ignored the sinking feeling in her chest. She had known, of course, that Remy would not give up something so important for her, but she had hoped otherwise. She missed daylight and warmth, and had fantasised what it would be like to see and feel it again millions of times. Now, she was engulfed by a wave of despair and perhaps frustration that she had been put into this situation where she had nothing to do with anything and could barely fathom what was going on at all.

"You should have listened to me," she said after a few moments of deliberation. "In fact, you should have let me go days ago. You're only wasting your time keeping me here."

"I do not think so," Ackmard responded and tilted his head as though pretending to be reasonable. "I think that she just requires a little more motivation. After the events of today, I do not think that will be a problem."

"What happened today?" Sarah knew that she shouldn't be asking, knew that she probably wouldn't like the answer, but her inherent curiosity forced the words out of her mouth. "What did you do?"

"I did nothing. Small explosions in abandoned buildings are common occurrences, I am sure," he waved his hands nonchalantly, "as is toxic rain. One simply cannot help these things. Sometimes, dark magic pours from one's hand completely of its own accord, and if that means your little mortal friend and every other witch and warlock in Astracia is harmed to a point where they feel inclined to give me what I want ... well, it is an innocent mistake to make. Accidents happen, after all."

Sarah watched him as he spoke and saw how he almost laughed at himself, saw how proud and amused he felt at whatever it was he had done. That was the first time she realised he must have been delusional, for he had been just as wicked and relentless before, but never in such an irrational and uncontrolled manner. This, she thought, was a man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice. This was a man who enjoyed wreaking destruction, not because he wanted particularly to harm or kill, but because he wanted to brag about it afterwards. This was a man completely detached from reality and what mattered, and that was more threatening to Sarah than if he was a cold-blooded killer.

"This is all just a joke to you, isn't it?"

"Joke is not the word I would use," he responded, seeming more dangerous than ever in the shadows, where only his pale face was visible against the darkness. "A form of entertainment, perhaps. A way to pass the time. A hobby, if you will."

"But why?" Sarah's voice rose in anger, though it cracked. She had had barely anything to eat or drink, and her whole body ached dully. "What do you want?" She had asked him the same thing so many times now and had never gotten an answer that she understood. She doubted that this time was any different, and she was right to.

"You will find out soon enough."

A look of surprise flashed across his features suddenly, and he turned to face the entrance with hesitance. It was the first time that Ackmard had looked unsure about anything, so Sarah followed his gaze, squinting into the darkness to make out whatever it was he had seen.

She couldn't find anything at first, just an empty opening where a sliver of light peaked through. Then, a small figure crept out of the shadows: A cat, she realised as she met its green eyes and heard its meow. She frowned, but before she could ask how such a thing could have found the cave, the cat seemed to transform, growing into a larger figure with human legs and arms, and finally, a face.

It was a woman with red hair that stood out like a raging fire even in such poor lighting and green eyes that were identical to the black cat's. Everything about her was feline, from the way she eyed her surroundings with a wary curiosity to the way she moved with a steadiness only predators possessed. Sarah stuttered, looking at first for the cat and then realising that it had disappeared, or perhaps had had its place taken by the woman—but how could that be possible? Cats simply did not turn into humans. 

How could any of this be possible? she argued with herself. She had seen Ackmard transport her from the cliffs outside the cave to where she sat now with a click of his fingers. Still, seeing a cat turn into a human was a little more difficult to believe, and she tried to convince herself that her vision was simply blurred and confused since she had lost her glasses and had to strain her eyes in the constant darkness.

"Erika," Ackmard greeted, and his evident uneasiness made Sarah nervous, especially as she took another moment to scrutinise the woman, who didn't appear to return the interest. She couldn't have been much older than Ackmard, but her light eyes seemed to twinkle with something more threatening than his ever had. Her features were cruel, not dissimilar to his; they shared the same harsh facial structure and mannerisms, and their eyes seemed the same even though their irises were different. Sarah wished now more than ever that she could run away. "I was not expecting you."

"I got bored," the woman answered with a shrug. Her voice was coarse and reminded Sarah of a cat's purr. "Your brother's forbidden love is growing tedious. It is making me nauseous to watch. Besides, they are still at the Central Hall."

"He is quite the casanova, is he not?" Ackmard seemed to relax slightly and began to pace the cave. "It is a trait passed from our father, I believe. I think the same gene escaped us."

"Thank Refilyn for that. I do hope it lasts only as long as that silly mortal girl does."

For a split second, Sarah thought they were referring to her and tried to understand what they might be talking about. Then, she realised that she was not the only 'mortal girl' here, and her eyes widened. "Wait, Remy?"

Erika looked at Sarah for the first time and scowled with so much hatred that Sarah lowered her eyes ashamedly. "I suppose that this is the other one."

"I assure you, she is much less trouble than Maksim's mortal, though she asks far too many questions."

Maksim. Might that have been the boy Remy had been taken away by? It sounded probable, unless Remy had met someone else wherever she was now. It occurred to Sarah then, as he thoughts flew back to the day Remy had left, that the boy's hair had been much like the woman's in hue and texture, though his held much deeper reds so that it had seemed black to Sarah at first. His pale skin matched Erika's, too. In fact, all three of them—Ackmard, Erika, and the other boy—looked so alike that Sarah felt dizzy.

"I see," she nodded and turned her gaze back to Sarah, her eyes burning into her like two green flames. "What a pity that your friend did not care about you enough to simply end this now."

Sarah didn't dare reply, and she didn't have to as Ackmard continued to speak. "We will get it, Erika. They are too weak not to give it to us, especially after today."

"Perhaps, but your mother is not. She will fight to her death for that key."

"Our mother," Ackmard corrected, confirming Sarah's suspicions, and if she had thought her own family dynamics were complicated, she no longer did now. Those were only another thing she found herself missing now, more than she ever had before.

"Not according to her," Erika responded sourly and marched back to the entrance of the cave. "I must be off. It is that time of day again where Maksim and the mortal have an argument and then pretend as though they are not in love with one another when Hilda returns home. I simply cannot miss it. Goodbye, my brother."

"Enjoy." Ackmard nodded, and he and Sarah watched as Erika transformed back into a cat and scampered out of the cave until it was silent again—besides the sound of dripping water, of course, but Sarah was used to that now. So she had not hallucinated, then; turning into a domesticated pet was something of a habit for the red-haired woman.

Sarah had a million questions, but was too shocked to find a way to ask them and knew anyway that they would not be answered by Ackmard, so instead, she kept quiet, letting her eyes fall close. She was too tired to care that Ackmard was watching her.

AN: What do you think of Erika? She's definitely going to be interesting to write about, particularly when she appears more in the second book. I'll probably include more flashbacks then too so that's exciting. :)