“It’s—”
Crimson’s cloud of dust returns in her wake. “There are guards all around, hidden in the trees. We aren’t going anywhere without them knowing about it. They are well camouflaged, but there’s no doubting they keep a strong perimeter.” She’s barely out of breath.
“So that’s why they’re happy to seemingly walk off,” I mutter to myself as I look around the small ring. “Ten, I don’t like this. You being here, both of you, gives them ammunition that I have nothing to fight back with.”
“Well, you’d better think of something fast, Ever. Or it will be more broken bones and cuts,” Crimson adds her thoughts.
“That’s not fucking helping, Crim.”
“But it’s the truth,” I cut in. “I know, Crimson. And I’m sorry. I am. What would you do?” I shove the words out and ignore the ones that I want to say. The angry, spiteful words are coiling in my gut like vipers.
She seems momentarily stunned by my genuine question.
“Learn. Practice. Play along. We all do. We all do what we’re told, like good little playthings. Until we are sure, and I mean it, until we are fucking sure, we can win. We are, Zuns knows where, on Nehandun. The only guide seems to be untrustworthy, and we have no means of transport or way home. We are outnumbered. We have no advantage here. Apart from you.”
Ten and I listen to her words, and I can see that one day, she will be formidable with an army at her back. She’s pretty terrifying now.
It’s not much more than we’d already planned, but saying it aloud, discussing it like this, makes it feel like there is hope. A goal.
“What does winning mean for you?” Ten asks.
She gives him a seething look, and I know it’s about Calix. But she turns to me before she says, “It means we can take out Fenix. He’s the key and the source of the power that’s keeping us contained.”
“You mean kill him?” I whisper the words in case anyone can hear. “You want revenge?”
“Of course I do. But that’s a secondary motive now. If we want to get out of here alive, he’s the key.”
Ten is staring off into the woods, as if contemplating all the outcomes and options that Crimson’s plan suggested. He’s the strategist, although where that logic and sense were when he came here, who knows.
“Ten?” I prompt.
“We take it day by day. My guess is that this will be a regular occurrence. Fenix knows we’re your weakness and will use it. You need to do everything you can to dampen the need for him to lord that over you. Youarepowerful, Ever. You are a Fifth. You need to believe in yourself.”
twenty
. . .
Aten
After being left alone for far longer than I’d ever allow a prisoner back in Kirrasia, Crimson and I were shown back to the cage in the mountain. We both comply, although I see the urge in every muscle of Crimson’s body to fight against it. But we’re following her plan.
Play nice. Gather as much intel as possible. Bide our time to allow Ever to learn how to get us all out, because neither Crimson nor I are going to win against Fenix.
Only, there’s a real fear now, sitting in the pit of my stomach, along with the vision of Ever’s body laid out in the snow and bleeding onto the ice, that we might not be the same versions of ourselves when that happens.
After today, and feeling the complete lack of control, not only over my body, but my will as well, I know there’s no guarantee what Fenix will do, or how he’ll use us. I thought there would be nothing that would make me pick up a sword and aim it at Ever with the intent to draw blood.
Crimson, yes. Me, never.
But then, the overpowering sensation wormed and burrowed into every part of my body, overriding my own power, and severing my ability to command myself. All the skill at blocking Ever out, and keeping a shield around my mind, offered no level of protection or barrier. It was as if Fenix saw the walls I’d built were made of paper and set a match to let them burn.
What’s to stop him from doing it again? What’s to stop him from making it worse or harder?
Crimson told me not to dwell on it. To heal and conserve my power. To practice my influence on her. But how could I not be terrified? That’s not the extent of my fear, though. If he’s got that much magic and control, surely that’s an indicator of what Ever is capable of?
Her eyes turned so black, it was like Aslendrix herself stole all the starlight from the sky and painted her eyes with the darkness left. Whatever she was doing, it was something that was a part of her, and only growing darker.
I lie back on the new cot that appeared in the cell while we were otherwise occupied. Crimson has one, too, set up next to mine with hardly a foot between them. They were placed towards the back of the cave, along with a small lamp with a candle burning inside. A couple of spares sit next to it.
