“Well, I’ll be. You’re still here.” A guard leaned through the open door. He retreated to the warmer hall, laughing at his own jest.
Somehow Mary had managed to fall asleep despite the penetrating cold. Now she’d have to accomplish that feat again.
She drew a deep breath and immediately felt a change in the air. This room was always cool, even in the summer, but it was usually dry unless water was flowing along the channel in the wall. There would be no reason for it to be wet now since it was fed by the overflow and waste from the kitchen.
Mindful of her toes, Mary worked her way down the right-side wall to the high end of the channel. She heard the gurgle of water—a lot of water—flowing from the kitchen drain into the channel. She touched the edge of the flow and jerked her hand back. Not boiling now, but scalding. It may well have been boiling when it was poured down the drain. What were they doing in the kitchen to generate so much hot water? And why discard it immediately?
She breathed in the warm, moist air and realized they weren’t discarding hot water. They’d boiled it for the sole purpose of pouring it down the drain. Cook was heating the dungeon for her. Yes, there was good and bad in the world.
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As a Matter of Fancy 