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I shriek like a possessed animal, bucking to get away from her, but only succeed in sending a shooting pain through my bound wrists where I’ve twisted them at an odd angle. Cold sweat runs down my neck, dampening the fabric of my dress. I wonder how many more cuts before I pass out from the pain—that’s what I’m counting on, the only way I can see respite coming my way. Then a tiny, tenuous hope that it might give someone time to find me—after all, Cebba can’t torture me while I’m unconscious.
“What is Ruskin’s true name?” Cebba says, a touch of irritation in her voice now.
“You know,” I say, and find the effort of formulating words helps distract from the searing pain just a fraction. “There’s only so much injury humans can take before we lose consciousness. We’re amazingly frail. I’d choose your next move carefully.”
Her face twitches, and I can tell she believes me.
“I’ll just have to escalate things,” she says. “Take something you’ll really miss.”
She reaches behind me, her face horribly close to mine, and puts the knife against my left ring finger.
“Eleanor, tell me what I want, or say goodbye to this.”
She doesn’t even hate me; I can see it in her eyes. There’s no rage, no fury. The strongest emotion she seems to be feeling is aggravation that this is taking longer than she’d planned. To her, I’m just a stupid animal who’s getting in her way. Destroying me wouldn’t cause her a moment of regret. I’m shaking from a combination of pain and fear, with more of the same to look forward to. But I have no options—I won’t betray Ruskin, not when I know what it would mean. I wouldn’t just be trading a man away; I’d be trading an entire kingdom. What would it be like under Cebba? What about the Low Fae? Kaline and her brother? Destan and Halima? What about the actual humans that live here, and those Cebba would hunt down for sport if she were given the chance again?
“Do it, Cebba. You’re only wasting your time.”
“Poor, stupid girl. He’s really deluded you, hasn’t he? All those secrets he keeps from you—ones you can’t even comprehend yet—and here you are, ready to sacrifice yourself. He doesn’t care about you, Eleanor Thorn. He only wants your marginal talents to save his wretched heart, and a nice, warm body to fu?—”
I lean forward and bite Cebba’s nose.
She screams as loud as I did, and I clamp down harder. The coppery taste of blood hits my tongue, but I hold on, doing as much damage as I can.
Rather than try to pull away, her knee-jerk reaction is to press down with the knife.
I don’t feel it at first, but I know my finger’s gone from the sudden moment of numbness, my body struggling to protect me from what’s to come. When the pain finally hits, I can’t help but gasp, releasing her from my jaws, choking on her blood. My whole body feels like it’s throbbing, the pulse radiating from that excruciating point in the middle of my hand.
I must black out for a few minutes, because when I come to Cebba is standing in front of the fireplace, now flickering with a healthy blaze, and her nose looks perfectly fine. My heart sinks until she moves her face strangely, and I realize the wounds of my attack are probably still very much there, she’s just hidden them with an illusion.
She toys with something in her hand, and I almost throw up when I realize what it is.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore.” She smiles and tosses my finger into the fire. The room is filled with the smell of my own burning flesh, and I get the sense that now I’ve really pissed her off.
My arm and leg sting with every movement, the very air seems to dig into my flesh, and my hand still has a heartbeat, but my mind, at least, is clear.
“What’s next, Cebba?” I ask. I must be insane, finding the energy to taunt her, but defiance is all I have. If I’m going to die anyway, whimpering and crying won’t make much difference. I’ve passed the threshold for fear. There’s only so long I can be terrified before it becomes abstract—a thing I can separate a small part of myself from.
Cebba crosses her arms. “I was going to have a little fun with some magic, but this whole thing is taking too long. Amusingly enough, Fiona has to be back at the palace, or she’ll be missed by the rest of the staff.”
My little sliver of hope raises its head again, because surely people will notice I’m gone, won’t they? Except…I took my things, and left the pendant, and that definitely looks a certain way.
“Of course, my friends in the palace have made sure it appears like you’ve left for the human realm,” she says, as if she can read my mind. “Which means I doubt Ruskin will order anyone to go looking for you.” She picks up her purple cloak, refastening it around her. “But that common soldier—the half-breed one—she’s been sniffing around.”
My lip curls with disgust when I realize she’s talking about Halima.
“Halima is twice the fae you are. She’ll run rings around you.”
She shrugs, looking unconcerned. “She knows you and Fiona are friends, so I’d rather have an alibi in case there are any questions when they notice your absence.” She draws a hood up around her face and moves to the door. “Don’t worry, once I’ve shown my face I’ll be back with some friends, and we’ll have another, more thorough, discussion about that name.”
I wonder if I’ll be so resilient when I’ve been left here alone for hours. When I’ve lost a couple of cups of blood and haven’t drunk anything for most of the day. Will I still be able to withstand her questioning when I’m sure no-one’s coming to get me?
As the door of the lodge clicks shut, I decide I’m not willing to find out.
Chapter 33
Istart pulling at my bindings the moment she’s gone, shifting them about so I can feel them with my fingers—my remaining ones anyway—and get a sense of their shape. When I stretch and look over my shoulder, I can just about catch the color of them—the dark gray whittling it down to a couple of options. From the size of the links, I’d say the chains binding me are manganese.
As I try to catch glimpses of my chains, I resolutely ignore the red stump on my left hand. I’m worried I’ll feel faint if I pay it too much attention. I can only assume I haven’t already fainted because the adrenaline of the situation is keeping me going, dulling my pain to an only-just-manageable level so I focus on escape.
