33: Brice Brice It had been an hour. Fen swayed between ranting at the cell door and feeling sorry for herself on her bed. Brice sat on his, back against the rock, and let her get on with it. She sat up, looked straight at him, and said, “You got nothing to say?” He shrugged. It didn’t raise a smile. “Guess I’m spoiling your solitude.” She sneered, then rubbed her stomach. “They give us any food in here?” “Could always ask.” “Like those guards outside bother listening.” Brice pointed to the roof. “Eyes and ears everywhere.” Her face paled. “They heard me going on like that? About right, I suppose. Can’t do me any harm. They already have me in here.” She looked up, shielding her eyes from the light. “Hey! Getting hungry and thirsty here!” She turned back to Brice. “Reckon they do s