The cave walls were cold and wet, but that didn’t bother Lucia. They were unjudging and safe; that was more than she could ask for. Lucia sat on the damp, stone floor with her knees pressed to her chest, her arms wrapped loosely around them. She sat alone. The table and chair stood empty in front of her.

The faint sound of water dripping further down the tunnel was steady and constant. The solitary sound seemed to grow louder with each drop.

He’ll come, she thought to herself. He said he would.

The darkness around her was only broken now and again by the bioluminescent algae around her. The soft greens and purples would ebb and flow with the slight breeze. Even with the soft glow of light, she could see clearly through the darkness. Her eyes had long grown accustomed to the devoid of light, though there wasn’t much to look at. She took a slow breath in as she anxiously rocked back and forth. The hooded, long-sleeve cloak shifted with her movements.

Then, cutting through the lonely silence, the sharp chime of a silver bell echoed against the damp walls. The sound carried through the darkness, nothing dampening it as it flew through the empty tunnels.

Lucia’s smooth, pointed ears twitched under her long, wavy hair. He was coming after all. Doubt had started to settle in her mind as the hours passed. She reached back and pulled the long hood over her head. Its edge fell below her blue eyes. The damp fabric tickled her nose, making her want to wipe the nuisance away. It was hard to see past the hood, but it was necessary. The thick leather gloves to her right were the next to go on. The gloves’ rough texture slid easily against her smooth skin.

The sound of Gemsean leather boots clacked as the stiff sole smacked the slick stone. With every step, the sound grew louder and louder.

“Where are you?” A man's voice cut the silence. The voice sounded irritated this time as if he had better things he could be doing.

“I’m here, Father.” Lucia stood as the dim light of a candle shone around the final corner. “Are you well?”

“Why do you pester me with questions? I have yet to sit down.”

The candle's light pierced Lucia’s eyes, making her squint at its brightness. If it weren't for the hood's thick cloth, she would be unable to see entirely. Her eyes had grown too accustomed to the near-complete darkness.

There was a soft thud as Father set the wooden box on the table. This contained another week's supply of food. Lucia knew this without asking. He always brought her food when he visited. On occasion, there would even be a sweetie or two.

“Are you well, Father?” Lucia asked. She stayed on her side of the small room. Father didn't like her to get too close.

The skin between Father's eyebrows scrunched as a frown crossed his face. “Just as well as any other visit. It is always a nuisance.”

“Did something happen today to make you unhappy?” Father was usually not in this sour of a mood.

Father sighed. “Now that you ask. Yes, something unpleasant did happen today.”

“What was it?”

“Just be prepared to fulfill your duties today.”

Lucia looked at the ground. Of all the things she could do, the duties he was referring to were her least favorite.

“Three assassins made an attempt on my life, Fowl beasts that they are.” Father’s tone was dark. “Expect three bodies after I leave. I don’t want to be present when they are dumped. If there are any valuables, gather them, and I will collect them on my next visit.”

Lucia nodded, the heavy hood slowly moving with her.

“Do you have any herbs or shells for me today?”

“I have a little,” Lucia said. “I plan to search the far east of the caves this week.”

Lucia walked to a small outcropping of stone she used as a makeshift shelf. She gathered up the glowing shells and dried algae.

“I’ll have more for you on your next visit.”

Father stood from the chair slowly. He picked up the crate of food and dumped it onto the table. Most stayed on the table, with only a couple small loaves of bread falling to the damp floor. The bread fell with a muffled sound as it quickly absorbed the surrounding water. Father walked over with the empty crate in hand.

“Put it in here,” he said, his tone flat.

Lucia quickly obliged. The glow of the items illuminated the empty box, casting warm shadows onto the wood. The algae that grew in her little cave glowed strongest when undisturbed. Once picked, its soft light would slowly fade with time.

“Well, I best return.” He returned to the table and picked up the candle with his other hand.

“But you just got here.” Lucia tried to hide the panic she felt. “Surely you can stay a little longer. What of the outside world?”

It had been so long since Lucia’s last visit from Father. His company was all she ever had to look forward to.

“It can't be helped. I will come again in a week's time. Expect me then.” Father walked to where the tunnel turned out of sight and paused momentarily. “The cloak and gloves suit you. I couldn’t see your hideous face.”

With that, Father walked away. The light faded with the sounds of his boots.

A mix of feelings hit Lucia all at once. It was soothing that Father felt more comfortable around her. She’d been grateful for the additional clothing. What followed was suffocating loneliness. She understood why she had to be there, but that didn’t make the loneliness any easier. Who would want to see such a frightening monster? She needed no mirror to remember her appearance—the cold blue-purple eyes. The disfigured pointed ears and the sickly pale blue skin. It was enough to make any child run in fear.

Lucia walked over to the soggy bread and placed it on the table. The webs between her fingers stretched and relaxed with the simple motion.

Interrupting her thoughts was the most unpleasant of sounds. Knowing it was coming, she stopped to cover her ears as best she could. The despairing sound of bodies falling through the catacomb tunnels echoed. She had learned long ago to not listen to the sound. Once she was certain the sound had stopped, she uncovered her ears. These were times when she was thankful for the extra insulation her webbed hands gave. Thankfully, this duty was hardly needed. Father was a good king and parent. She didn’t see why anyone would want him killed.

She reluctantly walked to where she knew the bodies would be waiting. The walk was not far, but it was far enough that she didn't have to see the spot often. Sure enough, at the opening of the upward-traveling tunnel lay three disheveled bodies.

Lucia crouched down for an initial inspection. She slowly removed her gloves and gently pushed one off the other: Three men, two as old as Father. She’d learned her lesson enough times always to remove her gloves. Father had berated her when he had to buy her new gloves. Their faces were rough and calloused, blood smeared across their cheeks. She never looked for the cause of death; that made it… too real.

The final man caught her attention. Despite the blood and grime, she could tell he was much younger. If she had to guess, he was only a little older than her. She never saw them this young. His face seemed kind, almost like he was sleeping. His brown hair was curled from the wet mud, long enough to barely graze his eyebrows. It fell in soft, half-formed ringlets. She felt her heart start to race the more she looked at his face. He would’ve made a bride happy. But now, that day would never come.

She let out a heavy sigh. His life had been snuffed out far too soon. If she could’ve traded her life for his, she would’ve. With a deep breath, she reached to brush a stray lock of curled, brown hair. Heat bloomed across her skin as her hand lightly brushed his dirty forehead, making her yelp and jump backward until she reached the other side of the small room.

“It can’t be.” Her soft voice cut the silence.

She crept back slowly to the still figure. With trembling hands, she reached to his neck and felt the slow pulse of blood in his veins. The heat of his skin was almost painful to her cold hands. He stirred at her icy touch. This man was very much alive.

Had Father just sent a live assassin to her solitary cave? Father would never do that, she reassured herself. Father loved her. Father had never mistreated her. Everything he did was in her best interest. Lucia took a slow, steadying breath, clutching her hands to her chest. What was she going to do with him?