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I took it from him, hesitantly eyeing the small opening. It smelled like a punch in the face, and I was sure it would taste even worse.
“Bottoms up,” Rycon nudged. I scowled at him but took a swig. It tasted like liquid fire and burned in the most unpleasant way all the way down. I choked on it, some of it shooting back up my nose, forcing me to cough harder. Rycon’s eyes crinkled as he took the flask back from me, taking another swig for himself. He didn’t seem to have nearly as hard a time with it as I did.
“How do you drink this shit,” I asked roughly, my throat still burning.
He shrugged. “You get used to it; you even grow to like it.” I made a face, but soon, the whiskey made its way into my bloodstream. I felt the dopamine hit my brain as the alcohol did its work. It felt good. It felt almost as good as the calming potion had.
Reading my mind, Rycon nodded. “Yes, it feels good. Unfortunately, it has some more negative side effects than the calming draught. You’ll feel it in the morning.”
I didn’t care. I couldn’t fathom feeling any worse than I already did.
“Give me another sip.”
Rycon didn’t argue; he just handed me the flask again. The second sip went down easier now that I knew what to expect.
We sat in silence for a bit, passing the flask back and forth as the sun continued its descent. I stared toward the gaping mouth of the wall and wondered idly if I should make an effort to get up and look outside. To get an idea of my surroundings.
“If you want to go out on the balcony, we can. It’s nice out there.” Rycon said, again answering my unspoken thoughts.
The booze had given me courage or maybe just dampened the depression. I nodded, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I stumbled a little bit but quickly regained my balance. Wow. Maybe I was already a bit tipsy.
“It’s a little cold out there,” Rycon mentioned, looking at my silk slip incredulously. I nodded and carefully made my way to the armoire that was set by the door. Maybe they had put some clothes in there for me.
Opening it up I was met with a wall of black. I wasn’t sure if that was just customary in the Court of Pride or if this wardrobe had been put together with some understanding of my actual preference for black. I really didn’t care either way. I grabbed a large black loose-knit sweater and pulled it over my head. I hooked my thumbs through the knit in the sleeves and cuddled into it. It was soft and warm and fell past my waist. It would do.
I padded across the room to the opening in the wall, where Rycon was already waiting for me. He was leaning on the ledge of the balcony, watching the sun go down. As I passed through the mouth in the wall, I noted the immediate temperature change. The inside must have been kept warm with some magick.
As I settled in next to Rycon, I held back a gasp. I was not in Kansas anymore.
My guess had been right that the room had been carved into the rock face of a mountain. Never would I have been able to imagine this.
We were nestled in the center of a large formation of sloping mountains that formed a crescent moon shape around what looked like a large sprawling city of buildings. None of which could have been more than 4 to 5 stories high. As the sun dipped down over the horizon, the city lit up with thousands of twinkling lights, as if fireflies had nestled over the rolling neighborhoods.
The vast and rugged landscape stretching out around the cluster of homes and buildings were a tapestry of mossy greens and dark volcanic rock. Rolling hills in the distance were dotted with small pockets of vibrant wildflowers.
Far off snow-capped peaks rose high into the sky. A misty fog hung low over the valleys, illuminated by the silver light of not one, but two moons that rose like pearled orbs in the sky.
The air was crisp and clean; the only sounds were the distant roar of waterfalls cascading down the cliffs that surrounded us, falling into glacial rivers of icy blue waters. The rivers twisted through the city like molten threads of sapphire.
The waterfalls themselves were the main features of the landscape. They were everywhere you looked. Some were thin and delicate while others were thick and powerful, but all were beautiful.
“Wow,” I said, my voice bland despite the true awe I felt.
“Yeah,” Rycon grunted. “Views not bad. I’ll give the prick that much.” I assumed the prick in question was Amon. I nodded in agreement and held my hand out for the flask.
“It’s still a prison,” I said.
Rycon nodded. “I really am, you know… sorry.” His voice was quiet and low, and I knew they were not words he offered often. Maybe ever. I shrugged, taking another swig.
“It doesn’t matter.” I wasn't referring to his betrayal. That would always matter. What didn’t matter was his apology. His apology didn’t take anything back. It didn’t fix anything.
“I know,” he said softly. “But I still am. For what it’s worth, I would not have left you there even if he had broken the bond for me. I would have gotten you out either way.”
“Sure.” My head was starting to swim, and it was becoming increasingly hard to see straight. The twin moons were quickly turning into quadruplets. Bless this whiskey.
“I know you don’t believe me. I honestly don’t understand it myself. I regretted it the second he had you in his hands. I’m not used to feeling…regret. It took me a minute to even understand what it was I was feeling.”
I finally looked at him. “I don’t understand how you could have given me to him. What did I ever do to you that was so horrible?” My voice was so quiet, I wasn't sure he would hear it over the rumble of the waterfalls.
