Talia was slowly losing her mind.

      If later someone had asked, she couldn't have said for sure how long she'd been down in the hole. Time had a funny way of twisting itself in a place like the pit. For instance, it seemed like an eternity stretched between each meager meal she received, but only seconds passed between visits from Olena.

      Most of the time the older girl simply stood over the grate which covered the pit and mocked her. Some days, Talia found herself doused from above by a torrent of foul smelling liquid. She wasn't certain what it was composed of and quite frankly, she didn't want to know.

      Ignorance was bliss after all.

      On those days she ended up sitting in wet, stinky mud that clung to her skin no matter how hard she tried to remove it. The mud would end up drying in thick layers that were nearly impossible to rub away. After a while she stopped trying. What did it matter? It wasn't like she was entertaining any guests.

      In fact, the lack of guests was the only silver lining to the otherwise vile punishment. Even the rats wanted nothing to do with her after the first dousing, and for that Talia was grateful.

       Her meals consisted of a handful of moldy bread and a few mouthfuls of foul tasting water. After a while Talia grew convinced that Olena was having it brought in from one of the bathing tubs after the farmers and stable hands had all taken their turn washing.

      Despite these torments, it was the mysterious appearance of the light that had Talia convinced she was teetering on the brink of insanity. It appeared a few days into her confinement, back when she was actually attempting to keep track.

      It wasn't a particularly bright light and didn't offer much by way of warmth. This was unfortunate because the hole had a tendency to get very cold.

      When it first appeared it hung suspended in the air flickering like candle flame caught in a draft. It never went out though, only wavered and danced, bending and twisting as though it had a mind of its own.

      Whenever Talia attempted to touch it, the light would vanish before slowly flickering back to life. When Olena or one of the guards appeared, the light would slowly fade until it was barely visible and the moment Talia was alone again it would brighten and begin its chaotic dance once more.

      One morning, or perhaps evening, Talia woke to find the light hovering just inches from her face.

      "What?" she grumbled. "Did I sleep in?"

      It was not her first time speaking to the light. She had decided some time ago that if she was going to lose her mind, she would make the most of it. At least with the light she didn't feel so terribly alone. As a result, Talia had even gone as far as naming it.

      As usual, the light offered no response save for its soft, pulsating golden glow.

      "You know, Lumi, you really shouldn't talk so much," she continued. As crazy as it was talking to a figment of her imagination, it was also extremely cathartic. "I can hardly hear myself think."

      Again, no response was offered.

      "What should we do today?" she asked.

      No answer.

      "Nothing? Sounds like a good idea to me."

      As if on cue, the sound of heels click-clacking on the stones of the room overhead announced the arrival of an unwanted guest. The sound drew Talia's gaze upward. The light from the torch being carried by the new arrival spilled down into the dark depths of the hole. Talia squinted and lifted her arm to shield her eyes.

      "Excellent, you're awake," Olena called down cheerily. "Have you learned your lesson my dear, Talia? Are you ready to come out of that hole?"

      "Yes," Talia called up, her voice hoarse. She looked in the direction the light had been and was not surprised to see it had faded from view.

      "I'm sure you'd say anything to get out of there," Olena said with a heavy sigh. "I'd love to leave you down there for another week, but people are starting to ask questions and unfortunately I am running out of believable excuses for your absence."

      People? There was only one person Talia could think of that would have cared enough to ask about her, one person that would have been brave enough anyhow.

      Gideon.

      He was Olena's older brother and he had left weeks ago to visit the outer baronies and collect taxes from those unable to make the journey to the capital. Talia had been sorely heartbroken to see him go and from the talk she'd heard around the palace, she expected him to be gone for at least two months. Was it possible he had returned early?

      She didn't dare ask.

      "Guards," she called, looking behind her. "Get her out of there."

      "Yes my lady."

      As the grate overhead was opened, Talia staggered unsteadily to her. The dirt floor beneath her was still moist from a recent dousing and it shifted beneath her weight as she reached for the rope ladder being lowered into the hole.

      It was amazing what a week of cramped quarters and malnutrition could do to a person. It took all the energy she had in her to pull herself up the ladder and she still required assistance once she was at the top. Once free of the hole, the guards set her down on the floor. They weren't rough, but they weren't gentle either.

      Talia didn't care.

      She was out.

      Olena bent over as if to speak, and then recoiled. Her fingers rose to cover her mouth and nose. "You smell worse than my chamber pot!" she exclaimed in disgust. Talia bent her head, her cheeks growing hot with shame fueled anger. Whose fault is that? She wanted to shout. Fear of being kicked right back into that hole kept her tongue locked behind her clenched teeth.

      "Make yourself presentable and then come to my chambers," Olena ordered, her voice muffled by her hand. She tossed some rags at Talia's feet. "Do not dare show your face to anyone until then do I make myself clear?"

      "Yes," Talia said after she managed to rein in her blistering rage.

      "Good," Olena declared. "And don't dawdle. If I have to come and seek you out, you will wish I had left you in that hole."

      Talia watched as Olena turned and swept from the firelit corridor. She didn't move until she could no longer hear the click-clack of heels against stone. Once she was certain Olena was gone, Talia slumped forward, pressing both palms against the floor to keep from falling over completely. Between her anger at her own cowardice, and her relief at being free of the pit, Talia was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl onto her straw palette and sleep for days.

      She certainly did not want to tend to Olena's needs.

      Knowing that Olena would be more than glad to follow through with her threat, Talia allowed herself only a few minutes to rest. Talia took that time to examine the rags that Olena had tossed at her. It turned out to be a shirt and some pants, both too large for her thin frame.

      At least they were clean.

      After a few minutes she took a deep breath and pulled herself to her feet. Her legs felt wobbly and she leaned against the wall until she was certain she'd be able to walk without toppling over. Smashing her face against the stone floor was not her idea of a good time.

      Now that she was no longer trapped in the confines of the hole, Talia was more aware of the scent wafting from her. Olena had been right about one thing, she did smell like a used chamber pot.

      Shuffling forward, Talia made her way down the narrow corridor in the general direction of the bathing pools. It wasn't her first time traversing the stone tunnels beneath the palace and she didn't need light to guide her.

      Nevertheless, she was oddly grateful when her unusual companion flickered to life before her, bobbing and weaving around her head. If Talia hadn't known better, she'd say the little ball was excited.

      "Ready for a bath, Lumi?" Talia asked to which the light simply bobbed up and down, up and down sporadically before zipping off down the hall.

      "Hey, wait," she called out, immediately feeling silly. Why was she making demands of her imagination? She shuffled forward again, in the same direction the light had gone. Her journey carried her deeper into the earth where there were two underground chambers carved naturally into the stone over hundreds of years.

      Both chambers held hot springs, the larger one reserved for drawing the water that was used to fill the tubs of the elite. The second, smaller spring was filled with runoff from the first. It was primarily used for washing clothing as well as a bathing area for those deemed unfit to bathe in the larger pool. 

      When Talia reached the fork in the path she started down the path to the left. Only to pause and reconsider. The path she was on led down to the lower pools reserved for her kind, for servants.

      The path to the right followed a sloping incline to the upper pools.

      Talia knew that if she was caught bathing there she would face worse punishment than a week in the pit, but the temptation of bathing in the warmer waters scented with jasmine and wild roses far outweighed her fears.

      Talia went right, instead of left.

      A choice that would change life forever.

      Just as she had suspected, the bathing chamber was empty. Steam rose in wisps from the shimmering pool of water, filling the small space with a thin haze. The heady aroma of flowers and spices swirled around her leaving her dizzy and breathless. She stripped off the mud caked garments and tossed them into a pile at the water's edge.

      As she sank beneath the warm surface of the water, Talia felt the tension seep from her aching muscles. For several moments she remained very still, allowing the gentle current to ease the knots in her shoulders and stiffness in her legs. Then she began the tedious task of removing the mud from her skin. It took several minutes of scrubbing but she managed to reach the sunkissed flesh hidden beneath layers of muck.

      Next she tackled her hair, even going so far as to sneak some of the rose scented soap from one of the many wooden bowls lining the tub's edge. As she scrubbed she found herself more grateful than ever for her short locks. When Talia was just a child, before she had gone from Olena's playmate to Olena's whipping girl, another servant had made the mistake of complimenting her long auburn curls.

      Olena had overheard and in a fit of rage had pinned Talia down and used a pair of large scissors to relieve the young child of her hair. To make matters worse, Olena had a wig fashioned from the severed locks and wore them whenever she had the chance. Ever since, Talia had not allowed her hair to grow past her shoulders and came up with ways to keep it from drawing unwanted attention.

      Talia was rinsing the soap from her hair when she heard the sound of laughter echoing up the corridor leading into the bathing chamber. Panic seized her and for a moment she couldn't even breathe. Come on, Talia! Think! She knew she had to get out of there, but there was only one way out – the way she had come.

      Or was there?

      The soft woosh of water falling drew her attention towards the far edge of the pool. She drifted towards it, all the while the sound of laughter drawing closer.

      Her anxiety mounted.

      No, Talia.

      She could feel the strong pull of the current the closer she drew to the black void through which the water ran. It was too risky. What if she got stuck? She'd drown for sure.

      If she was honest with herself, she didn't have much of a choice. Drowning was preferable to facing Olena's wrath if she discovered Talia had come here.

      As she reached the edge, Talia realized she did have one choice remaining.

      Feet first or head first?