I hesitated.
“Go,” Slade said. “Get them out. Save who you can.”
I held his gaze one more second—then turned.
And ran.
Down the stairs.
The air thickened with every step—acrid and cloying, a rotten-sweet stench that clung to my throat like smoke.
Decomposing meat. Old blood. Magic turned foul.
I covered my mouth with my sleeve as the corridor twisted lower—and opened into a vast, echoing chamber.
Cages.
Hundreds of them. Maybe more.
They lined the walls, stacked in impossible tiers, stretched down branching corridors that shouldn't have fit inside this place. Magic had warped the space, made room for more suffering.
Faces stared back. Hollow-eyed. Grime-smudged.
Some looked familiar—shadows of people I’d seen in the Varrowmere markets. The vanished. The stolen.
They were here.
All of them.
I clenched my fists. The fire surged higher in my throat. Just one wrong move… and I’d reduce this place to ash.
Lia stumbled to a stop beside me, her hands trembling. Tears streamed silently down her face as she rushed forward, trying one lock, then another, frantically searching for a way to open them.
Behind us, the tower buckled. Another shudder ran through the stone, deep and ominous.
Time was running out.
Rigg moved fast, pressing his hand to each cage, melting the steel with practiced precision. One by one, the doors fell open.
Some of the prisoners couldn’t walk. Others—thin, trembling, barely more than bone—staggered forward and tried to carry those who couldn’t.
A stuffed doll lay just outside one cage, its fabric soaked red. A child’s hand reached through the bars toward it—still, unmoving.
Like so many others.
“We have a way out,” I called, raising my voice above the growing tremor in the stone. “But we need you to move. Help each other. We’ll get you out of here.”
A man stepped forward. Grizzled. Hollow-eyed. Older than he looked.
“Vael took my daughter,” he rasped. “Just yesterday. Said he was ‘blessing’ her—but we know… weknowwhat that means.”
My stomach clenched.
“If she’s here, we’ll find her,” I said, trying—failing—not to let the emotion crack my voice.
Behind me, Caelen stood frozen. Wide-eyed. Pale. His hands trembled where they clutched his blade.
“How can anyone treat a human being like this?” he whispered.
