The next thing Valerie was aware of, her nose itched, and she couldn't scratch it.

She couldn't move at all. There was nothing but darkness, no sound of any kind, and no sensation of any kind except for a sense of omnipresent weight. And the itch.

It took a few seconds to even be able to twitch her nose in irritation, and by the time she could, her fingers and toes had started to tingle. Bit by bit, the feeling spread to her entire body. Pins and needles and an itch she couldn't scratch, everywhere, inside and out. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out.

That was when she realized she couldn't breathe, and the real panic started to set in. She couldn't move. Couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't breathe. Everything was heavy and tingling and itching—

A cool rush swept through her as she felt air on her skin for the first time. Her whole body convulsed, as if trying to perform every panicked motion she'd imagined all at once, and she dropped to her knees coughing and sputtering.

Dimly, she was aware of the feeling of granules of dirt all over her skin and the sound of coughing that wasn't coming from her, but she was too busy relishing the sudden swell of air in her lungs. Then after furiously scratching her face and coming away with bits of dirt, she finally took in her surroundings.

She was in a large, dark room, dim orange light coming from somewhere in the hallway beyond the iron bars that blocked the only way in or out. The stone walls and floors were weathered, cracked, and covered in dust. And all around her were stone statues.

Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds, all lined up in neat rows that filled the room. Most were standing riding with their hands behind their backs. A few were captured in poses of action, turning to free or lunging as if to attack.

And four were moving.

List shook bits and pieces of dirt and rock off of her as if she'd been encased in dried mud, and spat several times when some got in her mouth. Xigbar was furiously scraping away at himself while he used a nearby statue like a back scratcher. Even Arden was groaning in discomfort as shook himself loose of the stone clinging to him.

The only one who didn't seem bothered was Kaleb, who stood straight, drew in a deep breath, and let the stone clinging to him crumble away.

Slowly, Valerie's brain caught up with her body, and she remembered their execution. The announcer had said they were going to be put to stone, and then one of the urks had brought out a basilisk. Valerie cursed herself for not recognizing it before the urk pulled the hood off. The six legs and crystal growths should have been a dead giveaway.

Then again, there probably wouldn't have been much she could have done. With her in chains, it only would have taken one urk to hold her eyes open, and that would have been it the end.

That raised a new question.

"How?" Valerie's voice came out hoarse, and she had to clear her throat. "How are we alive?"

"The priest who was brought out to give us our last rights seemed to have had other plans," Arden said, coughing once before standing up straight. "He didn't say a prayer to guide protect our souls in the afterlife. He said used a prayer meant to progressively heal the body. It's meant to regrow lost limbs, but it seems it also served as a delayed means of counteracting petrification." 

The scholar's brow furrowed. "It's an incredibly potent prayer. I don't know anyone, with the possible exception of the Archbishop of Corsar, who could manage it more than once in a day. To use it five times…"

"Whatever you're thinking about him, stop thinking it," List said. "I've met that old man before. He's completely mad."

"I wasn't particularly reassured by his mental faculties in my own encounter. But the point of his power stands."

"You've met him?"

"Yes, on Valerie's birthday. When did you?"

"Uh, can we maybe focus on something a little more important?" Xigbar asked. "Like figuring out where the fuck we are and how the fuck we get out?"

"I think it's pretty obvious we're in some kind of prison," Valerie said. She looked over the rows of motionless statues, people who hadn't been freed by a cleric's power, and were still trapped in stone. "Or, maybe it might be more accurate to call it a trophy room."

"Trophy basement, maybe," List muttered. "Whatever it is, looks like another fucking cage, and I want out."

"If you have such a problem with incarceration, it might be beneficial for you to refrain from assassin attempts," Arden said, and there was no missing the hard edge of admonishment in his voice.

List cringed, not looking him or anyone in the eye. "Can we not do this right now?"

"Considering your actions are a very big part of why we're here in the first place, I'm afraid that's not an option," Arden said. "Explain yourself."

List's tail was trying to twist itself in a knot, and it only grew more agitated when she realized everyone was staring at her. Arden was expectant, Xigbar was annoyed, and Kaleb was lost. List looked to Valerie for support, but she offered no way out.

Even though she felt more concern and confusion than anger, Valerie wanted the answer to this question too.

List's shoulders sagged, and she went back to not looking at anyone. "He's on my list."

"Pardon?"

"He's on my list!" she snapped, and thrust her arm out. In the dim light of their prison, it should have been impossible to read, but List's tattoos very helpfully began to give off a dull red glow. And there, in and amongst the dozens on dozens of names that made up her tattoo, wrapped around her bicep, was the name Emir Zaman.

"Big surprise, I don't know where this came from, or what it means, but when I meet someone on the list I… I don't know. Last time it was just a nagging in the back of my head, but with Zaman—" She visibly winced as the name on her arm pulsed. "—it was like everything just went red. I didn't even know what I was doing.

"This has happened before the Chosen?" Arden asked.

"Once," List said. "With a group of scavs. I was in a tavern, looking for unattended meals to steal, when they walked in, and my arm just started…burning. And I wanted them dead. So badly. I would have ripped out their throats if I thought I could."

"I'm not a moron," List insisted. "Even if I knew Zaman and hated him, I wouldn't have…I don't know what happened. I couldn't think."

"So what, you just get people's names on your arm and try murder them sometimes?" Xigbar asked. "Is that what happened with me?"

"Oh no, you, I know I want to kill. No magic required."

"You should have told me about this," Arden said. "We could have been studying this aspect of your magic."

"Have you ever for a second considered that maybe I don't like being studied?" List asked. "Training is training, but I'm not some monster for you to pick apart and scribble down notes about in your diary! And I told you, it's never been so bad before. How was I supposed to know Zaman would make me snap? I've never met him!"

Valerie decided to intervene before things drew out any further. "Dr. Siren, she didn't have any way of knowing this would happen. And even if we'd known, I don't think there's anything we could have done. We didn't plan to meet the Chosen in the street."

"If we had known, we would at least have been prepared when he arrived," Arden said, though his tone was already more measured. For the first time, Valerie noticed that he was also casting wary looks her way as much as List's. 

She remembered the black fire then, and wondered. What did he know about it? Why had he sounded so worried when she'd used it?

"This is not the end of this conversation," Arden said, in a tone that firmly set the discussion aside. "For now, our cellmate has a point. We've been given a unique opportunity we can be sure won't last. We should be focused on escape before any guardians of this place realize we're no longer entombed."

"Finally," Xigbar muttered. "So. Who's got the door?"

The door in question was a set of vertical iron bars, space just tight enough that none of them would be able to get their heads through, with a lock built into its handle. It was an old, crude lock, but solid. Maybe difficult to break, but surely easy enough to pick.

Except Xigbar was dressed in a set of rags that had been given to him after he'd been arrested, and he didn't have any of his lockpicking tools on him. With as many times as he'd lost all his clothes and all the hidden pockets that came with them, he was genuinely beginning to consider finding a way to keep an emergency set up his ass.

"Couldn't you just turn into a snake and slip out?" Valerie asked.

"And here I was worried you might be getting tired of seeing me naked," Xigbar said. "I try to save that move for emergencies. And besides, that only gets me out. If Boss Man's right and there's any kind of guards in this place, I'd rather have more back up than just my winning smile."

"You can't do it right now, can you?"

"Do you have something helpful to contribute, Blondie?"

Valerie noticed that wasn't a denial.

"Oh for—move," List ordered, deliberately shoving Xigbar aside with her shoulder as she stomped to the door.

She crouched down to get eye level with the lock, and placed her hand over it. Her tattoos began to glow, and red lightning leaped across her arm and into the lock in a steady stream. Her brow knit in concentration, and she focused on the lock with her full attention.

"What are you doing?" Xigbar asked.

"Shut up."

Minutes passed, List not taking her eyes off the lock for a second. The only sounds from her were the faint crackle of her magic as it arced off of her.

"What's she doing?" Xigbar whispered to Valerie.

"I am trying," List hissed through grit teeth, "to use my powers to break apart the lock. It should be possible, if I could have a second to concentrate—oh, Spirits!"

She let out an incoherent snarl, and slammed her fist against the lock.

"It didn't work, did it?"

"I will end you. In this room."

"Let me try something," Kaleb said, conveniently stepping between List and Xigbar before the hellborn could resort to violence. 

It was the first thing the boy had said since they'd all broken out of their stone prisons. List gave him an unconvinced look as she glanced between him and the very definitely fused lock on their cell door. 

"I don't know what you think you can do, but be my guest."

She got out of the way, and Kaleb stepped up to the door. He looked the iron bars up and down, noting the way they'd been forged. He glanced at the lock and the hinges before nodding once, as if making up his mind. With a deep breath, he muttered something to himself, grabbed the two bars closest to the center, and pulled.

List scoffed, and was about to tell Kabel to stop wasting their time when she heard the groan of metal warping. Whole body shaking, face tense, Kaleb pulled the two bars apart, bit by bit. The more they bent, the faster the process went, until only a few seconds into the effort, the bars gave a sudden, violent shriek, and wrenched apart so wide one of them snapped in half in Kaleb's hand.

Kaleb panted from exertion..

List stared at him, jaw slack. Memories came back to her, of the fight with Gorpmorp, of her own struggle against him in the alleyway. Spirits, he really was strong.

"You let me fuck around with magic. For five minutes," List huffed. "Why didn't you just do that to begin with?"

"I… didn't want to be rude?" He gave her an apologetic smile, and this time, she did scoff.

"Unbelievable," List said. She looked back to the others. "Well, come on then. Let's get out of here before someone comes to admire the figurine collection."