I wracked my brain for a plan, trying my hardest to think my way out of the jail cell. Would the iron bars budge if both Rose and I pushed against them? Possibly but probably not, I concluded. Strength was out of the question. Our solution needed to be something slicker, cooler, and a bit more sophisticated. Maybe an hour had passed as Rose and I were deep in thought.

“I’ve thought of absolutely nothing.” I admitted.

“Absolutely nothing? We’ve been at this for about an hour and not a single thought has come to your mind?”

“Well, I thought about how hungry I was and if the jailor would bring me another chicken bone, I could think better with some food in my stomach.”

“That’s it! You’re a genius, Arthur!”

I did not admit that I had no idea what she was talking about. Sometimes the best way to get credit for something you didn’t do was to let someone else figure out your problem for you.

“I know I am. Now, what exactly did I come up with?”

“If we collect enough chicken bones, you can make some sort of undead creature puppet out of the scraps. We’ll use your undead creation to unlock the jail cell and free ourselves in the next two days right before the Vorpal Key meeting.”

“Exactly. However, that won’t help us find Azog or navigate out of the winding corridors.”

“We’ll unlock the cell and wait for the jailor to come around and jump him. He’s an old man so the two of us should be able to take him. Then we’ll force him to lead us to Azog and the Vorpal Key. This plan is literally fool proof.”

“Hold on, let's not get hasty and jinx the plan.”

“Well, it's about as foolproof as a plan can be. You’d have to be a real idiot to mess something like this up.”

It was a good thing that neither of us were idiots. So time passed as we strategically waited for the jailor to give us some more chicken bones. The porridge was icing on the cake. As I waited patiently, I reflected on Rose’s story. When mana was converted to magic, it typically retained a lot of the properties of the mana. Holy magic took the same color as the bright gold mana, the red mana from the reality magic bled through the tears in the illusions it created. There were countless types of mana, many sharing similar hues. I tried to think about what type of mana could disappear an entire building as well as warp the memories of the living. There was more to Rose’s story than she was letting on.

It was her secret and I had no business prying, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t curious. Rose was a tour guide no more, no less. It was a professional relationship that was sure to end after we all got what we wanted.

The chicken bones came marching in one by one as days passed. It was dull waiting but it was a necessary wait. While I waited, I devised how to best utilize the bones. Three thigh bones, half a beak, and three chicken ribs weren’t enough to make anything resemble an actual animal. I prayed to the gods that they would forgive me for bringing a horrifying monstrosity into the world. I hoped that the bones would forgive my slight onto them too.

The thigh bones made for three stubby feet connected to the broken beak which I used as the base. The three chicken rib bones jutted out the beak like a mouth. I intended to use those bones to try and lock pick the key hole on the padlock that kept us trapped. The bread incident was the last time I had picked anything other than my nose, so I was slightly nervous. If even one of the chicken bones cracked, our chances at escaping would decrease drastically.

“Ok, I think I’ve got something that might work.” I said, as I raised my undead monstrosity to life. It hobbled slowly as if it was crippled. It was miraculous that the pile of bones could even move.

“It's, um, about what I expected,” Rose commented.

“There isn’t much I can do with a few brittle bones. Honestly, I wish I had some proper bones to work with. It’s like missing your arms and trying to swing a sword or running without ankles. If you’ll do the honors, I’ll pick the lock.”

“Wait, I’m not touching that thing.”

“It’s just bones. Sure, it's as ugly as sin and smells kinda putrid due to the few days old chicken meat, but if you plug your nose you won’t smell a thing.”

“Why can’t you just lift it to the padlock?”

“I need to concentrate on picking the lock.”

Rose crossed her arms and refused to pick up the bone thing. I thought Bone Thing was a fitting name for the thing. I found it rather mean that Rose wouldn’t want to get near my little Bone Thing. Looks are fleeting and I was certain that Bone Thing had a great personality.

“What would the Princess Guide tell you to do in a situation like this?” I asked.

“Fine, I’ll pick it up! But once we get out of this dump you owe me.” Rose grumbled.

Rose stuck out her hand and closed her eyes. I picked up Bone Thing and carefully placed it onto her hand. Rose's hand trembled but she managed to hold her composure.

“It’s moving. I hate it.”

“It has to stabilize itself because you’re shaking.”

“Wonderful.”

Rose opened her eyes slightly and peaked at her hand. She moved to the iron bars and stuck her hand right under the lock. I urged the small skeleton creature forward. Click. Click. I began messing with the lock. My skills were rusty. This was not a particularly hard lock to pick, and I was struggling more than I should have been.

Sweat poured from my face as I heard one of the tiny bones snap. No more mistakes, I thought to myself as I fiddled with the pins. It only took a minute but it felt like five had passed. Click. Clack. The lock opened, freeing us from the cell.

Rose flung Bone Thing onto the floor, shattering the poor thing.

“I never want to do this again. Keep your puppets away from me.”

“Why’d you do that to poor Bone Thing? I was starting to like his quirky little waddle.”

“That thing is better off dead. I did it a favor.”

I frowned. I did wonder how Bone Thing felt about being alive. He wasn’t born into the best of circumstance nor had a proper body. It was probably for the best.

Neither Rose nor I left the cell. It felt a bit counterintuitive considering we could leave any time we liked, but the jailor was necessary for our plan. The evening meal of more porridge with a hint of chicken bone was coming. My heart beat faster as the anticipation of jumping an old man was getting to me. Not as much as Malkor the Devourer, but it was still somewhat substantial.

Steps echoed throughout the chamber indicating Dren was coming.

“Slop. Slop. Eat your fresh slop.” hollered Dren.

I tensed my muscles ready to push the iron door open. Rose stood behind me. She looked a bit feral with her fists raised. This was going to be quick and fairly painless I thought to myself. It wasn’t as if Nancy was close enough to enforce Dren’s will.

The middle aged jailor suspected nothing as he turned the corner. I shoved the door open and pounced, grabbing the old man by the waist. He staggered back, surprised. But he didn’t fall to the floor like I had expected. He was more muscular than he looked. He was still an old man with a beer gut.

Rose was quick and kicked at the jailor ribs. He tumbled and rolled on the cold stone floor. It was admittedly the easiest fight I’d been in. I stood and patted the dirt of me and smiled. I turned to face Rose. My hands raised in celebration.

“That was easy,” I said, relieved.

“Wait, he’s grabbing something out of his pocket.”

“What?”

“Look!”

I swiveled to see the Jailor with an elixir he uncorked and swallowed.

“What do you think that is?” I started to panic. I reached down to grab Dren off the floor, but he sprung off the ground as if he had the strength of a warrior. His muscles bulged and swelled up as if his life goal was to lift heavy objects.

“Ooh, fair play holy man, but you’ll have to try a little harder to keep me down. I’m gonna have some fun bending you into a pretzel before I lock you back up.” Dren said in a deep voice that sounded unnatural.

“Run!” I yelled. Rose and I sprinted into the darkness.