Chapter TWENTY FOUR: UNSEEN CHAINS

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The dungeon was a tomb of silence, save for the faint drip of water echoing in the distance. Elsa sat cross-legged near Gravill, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the cold, damp stone floor. Her gaze darted between the crumpled figure of the demigod beside her and Nicholas, who sat in a rigid silence across the room, his shoulders slumped under the weight of failure.

"Gravill," Elsa whispered, leaning closer to him. His breaths were shallow, his skin slick with sweat. Though his eyes were open, they stared blankly at the jagged ceiling, as if lost in a dream—or a nightmare.

Nicholas finally broke the silence. "We don't have time for him to recover. If they come back, we're dead." His voice was hoarse, each word laced with frustration and guilt.

"And what do you propose we do?" Elsa shot back, her tone sharper than she intended. "We're locked in here with no weapons, no plan, and no idea what Rosa has up her sleeve."

Nicholas clenched his jaw, glaring at the single torch mounted on the far wall. The flickering light cast long shadows, making the room feel smaller, more suffocating.

"Rosa didn't just betray us," Nicholas muttered. "She betrayed Poseidon himself. That kind of betrayal has consequences. The Hematoi don't deal in half measures. She knows that. So why would she—"

"Because she's not afraid of them," Elsa interrupted. "Or maybe she's afraid of something worse."

Nicholas fell silent, her words sinking in like a lead weight. Elsa turned her attention back to Gravill, who stirred slightly, his lips moving without sound.

"What are you saying?" Elsa leaned closer.

Gravill's voice came as a rasp, weak but insistent. "The water..."

She frowned, glancing around the room. The faint drip of water echoed louder now, a steady rhythm that seemed to hum in her ears. It pooled in a small corner, glinting faintly in the dim torchlight.

Nicholas noticed it too. "That wasn't there before," he said, rising to his feet.

Elsa's heart quickened as she knelt by the puddle. The water moved unnaturally, rippling despite the still air. A memory surfaced—Poseidon's blessings to his heirs, the whispers of his power that ran through their veins.

"Gravill," she said urgently, shaking him gently. "You can control it, can't you? Use it."

Gravill groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. "I... can't... not like this."

"You don't have a choice," Elsa pressed. "If you don't, we're not getting out of here. Focus."

Nicholas knelt beside her, his usual stoic demeanor replaced with a glimmer of hope. "She's right. Whatever power you have, Gravill, now's the time to use it."

With a shuddering breath, Gravill pushed himself upright, his movements sluggish. His hands trembled as he reached toward the water. At first, nothing happened. The puddle remained still, mocking him with its silence. Then, faintly, the water began to shift, curling upward like a living thing.

Elsa gasped, her eyes widening. The water coalesced into a thin stream, snaking its way toward the cell door. Gravill gritted his teeth, his face pale with effort. The stream hardened, freezing into an icy spike that drove itself into the rusted lock.

A loud crack echoed through the dungeon as the lock shattered, the door swinging open with a groan.

Nicholas wasted no time, hauling Gravill to his feet. "We're not safe yet. Let's move."

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