Dread knifes me, cutting deeper than a physical blade ever could.
I stop screaming. Come to the sinking realization that there is no point.
Rygun’s hunting, and nothing I say or do will stop him from doing his part to avenge me and my family.
That, above all, is something I understand.
The farther I get from the arena, the scarcer the dungeons become. Like Arkyn had everyone moved close, preparing for a phase of unhindered battles. Perhaps entertainment to keep his patrons hooked in the fall’s aftermath, all the while worming into their political pockets.
A thought that makes my fingers itch with the urge to rip his fucking face off. Something I hope Kaan’s doing at this very moment.
I’m coughing on blows of dust while powering down the last turn of tunnels, leaping over widening cracks and fallen rocks, when a thought occurs, making my heart wedge so high I almost choke on it.
What if he moved Veya and Kyzari?
No. He wouldn’t.
Had things gone to plan, he would’ve carted me back to that fucking cell that’s taken so much already. He would’ve stuffed me in there, still wearing Kaan’s blood, and left me to watch our daughter rot as another means to break me in. I’m so certain of it that when I come upon my empty cell, finding Veya’s just as scarce, I stumble. Catch myself against the bars.
The keys clatter to the ground.
The world jolts with such might I’m knocked to my knees, lashing my hand against the bars as I bare my teeth andscream.
“FUUUUUCK! … FUCK-FUCK-FUUUUUUCK!” I heave a bladed breath, teeth gritted as my face crumbles. “Fuck,” I say, much quieter this time. Wrought with pathetic, poisonous defeat.
Until I register the cold puddle of blood beneath me. The dead guard on the ground behind a large, fallen rock.
I scour the scene, hope pitching through my veins.
Did Veya reach through and kill the guard? Get the keys? Get Kyzari out?
My gaze snags on a pink button tucked amongst the scattered straw of Kyzari’s pallet, and my lungs hitch.
Uno, you little marvel.
I’m on my feet, through the open door, Uno’s button in my clenched fist as I bat the powdery air and scan for more clues. Perhaps something to point me in the direction they went.
A creamy piece of parchment catches my attention, the hint of a small wing plying me with another gulp of hope. Until I push the straw away and see the signs of a once-crumpled beak. The tiny tear in its wing. The long and messy rip, straight through its middle—
My legs give way.
The world pinches in.
Everything goes numb except the stinging burn in the backs of my eyes and the crush of my caving chest.
Somehow, I force myself to move. Manage to reach for the front half of my beautiful little Nee, no longer full of fluttering life.
No longer …here.
I touch her beak—familiar, pressed between my fingers so many times.
Almost trembling too much to trust myself, I lift her little body and place her in my palm, shifting the straw around until I spot her other half. Spot those three dainty letters for the first time since I pinched her return fold and abandoned her.
nee
I squeeze my eyes shut, releasing warm tears that slip down my cheeks.
My thoughts back in Dhomm—I was right.
