“Sorry, I’m not taking requests for a mass breakout at this time.” I dismiss their calls with a wave. “Maybe next Samhain.”
Not that I have any intention of freeing them. For all her faults, Aiyana tends to be fairly unbiased in dispensing judgement… usually. Like that lord she fed to her eels when she was showing off to Rose. He was a sick piece of shit who smuggled dust off-world for a little extra gold to fund his extravagant lifestyle.
“Has anyone seen a blue-skinned asshole with a big mouth?” I ask.
“He’s this way,” Bram interrupts, grabbing my arm and tugging me away from my audience. “Goddess, you don’t understand the meaning of the word subtle, do you? Where’s your glamour?”
The two princes are disguised as well, like they think it’ll matter. Who else would break Caed out of the dungeon?
I shrug. “Like she won’t know I’m involved.”
Prae ignores us as she rushes across the room, falling to her knees with a hiss as she reaches what can only be Caed’s little shithole.
“You stupid fuck,” she whispers, grabbing at the mangled bars and yanking.
“You might want this—” I hold out the key I pilfered from the guards, but she’s already fished out a bottle of something green and fizzy from her belt. It sizzles as it makes contact with the lock and then melts the metal.
Ooooh, I want some of that. What does it do if you pour it on flesh? Is it bloody? I wonder where she keeps it. I could ask for some, but stealing’s half the fun.
Madoc shoves open the gate, and the four of us look down… and down… and down…
At the bottom, in a stinking puddle of water, sits a huddled blue mess of blood and torn flesh. When he looks up, Prae gasps at the sunken eyelid where his right eye once was, but I’m more interested in the thick twine jaggedly holding his lips shut.
“Wow. I guess they got fed up with your big mouth, too. And are those broken legs? Well, someone is really trying to get their damsel points in.” I sigh. It’s been too long since I sewed my enemies’ mouths shut. Seeing it makes me nostalgic. “This is impressive for the seelie. Usually, they’re lazier with their torture.”
And he didn’t draw from Rose once… I shrug it off.
“Shut up and help me get him out,” Prae snarls. “We need a rope or something.”
Caed’s little pit of despair is quite a bit deeper than the rest, but I snort at her suggestion.
Blink, and I’m in the puddle of ankle-deep smelly water with him. Another blink—
Ouch.
We rebound off Aiyana’s stupid palace barrier as my magic misfires and tries to drag me back to a different dungeon. Damn. Shaking my head, I blink again and then finally, Caed is shivering at his cousin’s feet, glaring at me.
Ah, I guess he didn’t enjoy the bumpy ride.
“Awww, don’t be like that.” I pout. “And what’s with the hair? Honestly, blue, there’s only room for one dishevelled blond in this harem.”
The words are casual, but a blade is in my hand, ready to add to his wounds.
“Your hair is much paler than his,” Bram reassures me. “And Caed will grow his out.”
Nodding, I touch the twine. I could blink it out, but…
“Argh!” Caed roars as I hook my finger between the lacing and tug hard, ripping the twine free.
He tries to retaliate, but it’s pathetic to watch. His hands are cuffed, and his legs broken, so all he can really do is flop his torso in my direction. Oooh, and with his mouth open, it’s clear they cut out his tongue too.
“You shouldn’t have hurt my pretty pet,” I coo, admiring the shredded remains of his lips with glee.
“Slap some of Kitarni’s healing salve on him before he starts drawing from Rose,” Madoc hisses. “We have to get out of here.”
“He won’t draw from her,” Bram and Prae say at the same time.
“He’s had every opportunity to thus far, and he hasn’t,” the former continues as the Fomorian princess goes back to tending to her cousin.
