CHAPTER 28: In the Heart of the Pit - Part 3

  Back in their cell, they could not wait to try Zeke's idea. After finishing their soup, they peeled the wax off their clothes and collected the pieces. Zeke tore off a bit of his shirt, placed a string of cloth on top of the wax pieces, and clenched everything into a wick-bearing lump which he, with puffed chest, called a candle.

  “Eri, use your flint and restraining bracelet to light this candle,” Zeke said as he tore palm-sized piece off his shirt. He rinsed his pewter plate, refilled it with water, and soaked the cloth piece in it.

  Using the candle flame, Zeke evaporated all the water in the plate until only the cloth remained. He then crushed the grapes, skins and all, onto the cloth, adding moist bread crumbs. He folded and sealed the cloth surface with wax drippings.

  “Can this really produce alcohol?” Eiran asked.

  “See the white stuff on the grape skins? That's bloom, a natural yeast, and among them some turn into monsters. Monsterized yeast like that will produce high-alcohol content. Our grapes are desert grapes. The intense sunlight causes them to produce more sugar and... let's just wait and see.”

  “Monster yeast? I thought all monsters were poisonous.”

  “True, but alcohol can be considered a poison too, just beneficial for us. Only the dose makes the poison, according to one arrogant expert poisoner of old.”

  “So, now what?”

  Zeke extinguished the candle just as the lights went out. “Sleep.”

  ***

  A distinct aroma wafted as Zeke broke the wax-sealed cloth's end. He poured the contents onto a plate with a smile.

  “This is really alcohol,” Eiran said.

  “It seems you're at the threshold of higher understanding.” Zeke sat up straight, pretending to adjust a monocle. “Ha ha, that's what my teacher would say. Eri, now that we know we can make alcohol, we need to produce it in large quantities and purify it.”

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  “I know. Hopefully we don't die first.”

  Day after day, they mined until their hands were raw. They worked while gathering the tools needed to purify the alcohol.

  During the lunch break, Eiran heard the sound of pottery breaking. The legless prisoner dropped a clay jug. The guards cursed and beat him. The other prisoners were too tired to even glance at the incident.

  “I think I know how to get that item. But since it's my idea, you're the one doing it.”

  “Sounds painful...,” Zeke said.

  Eiran shared his plan with Zeke. They then approached the table where the water jugs were lined up. The legless man was still crumpled in his spot, bruised and half-conscious. Seeing this made him swallow hard, while Zeke paled and was visibly shaken. Eiran could not bear it.

  “Forget it, I'll do it,” Eiran said.

  He took a deep breath to steady himself and then pretended to stumble. His hand grabbed the spout of one of the jugs and smashed it. The guards stood up. Far from angry, they grinned.

  “Thanks for giving us some entertainment,” they said as the first punch landed on his left eye. Eiran was accustomed to absorbing blows. He scooted to a corner of the room to prevent them from hitting him all at once and curled up, clutching the swan-neck spout.

  ***

  From his experience as an assistant brewmaster, Eiran knew what Zeke meant by purifying alcohol. The swan-neck was a crucial part of the process.

  Zeke cursed, “Damn, I forgot to take–”

  Eiran could not smile as the bruising on his face made it too painful, so he just showed the wide conical lid of the jug.

  “Brilliant, Eri! Where did you hide it?”

  “You don't want to know.”

  “Then, to make a hole in this lid....”

  Eiran produced a nail he had pulled from his pickaxe.

  “I love you. Marry me,” Zeke said.

  Using the nail, Zeke carved a hole in the clay cone and fitted the swan-neck spout into it. He then began the purification process: Boiling the alcohol and capturing its vapor. The vapor traveled along the swan-neck wrapped in wet cloth and dripped into a second plate.

  They were thrilled. However, the flow stopped after a dozen drops.

  “Damn. This means we really have to risk our lives,” Eiran said. “Ah, if only the security wasn't this tight, I would have chosen another way.”

  “Tight? We're nothing compared to the tenth level.”

  “The bottom level? What's there?”

  “That place is reserved for special individuals. Right now, it's inhabited by just one person. They say if you don't know who's in there, the walls and iron bars of the tenth floor seem excessive, like chaining a sparrow with a ship's chain.”

  “You're making it up. How would you know?”

  “Guards like to gossip. And you know what else? They're afraid to give him too much food or salt, so he doesn't get too strong.”

  “Him?”

  “The only inhabitant of the tenth floor right now.”

  “Sounds more like a monster than a human.”

  “Heh,” Zeke grinned, “the guards would rather face a horde of monsters than bring food to that person.”