Luella met Desara’s eyes and said, "I don’t know where to go." It was a plea as much as an admission of weakness.
"Pity." Desara laughed. "Because I do."
She didn’t expect the female to help her. It would be begging for death. Imagine her surprise when Desara began to speak, turning her back on Luella once more as she packed away her healing items.
"There is a room that opens to the outside. It is where the master dumps the bodies after they decompose far beyond his use. I’ve been there before, to rid of the bodies sent to Floris and me for healing—the ones who do not survive whatever ailment or torture is subjected upon them. These healing rooms are situated far below the throne room. No one values a healer until they find themselves in need of one. As such, the hallwaysare lonely. I’ve found that if I leave this room and take the left corridor and follow it, the scent of fresh air and rotting bodies mingle. It is a hard smell to miss."
Desara wiped her hands with a cloth, then made for the door. There was a lock for a key. She traced her finger over the edge, opened the door, and left without another word, not bothering to lock Luella in or order her silence.
Shocked, Luella could only stare.
She waited until the sound of Desara’s footsteps faded, then waited some more to be sure. All the while, her heart pounded.
She slipped off the stone table, starting for the door, but her eyes lingered on the table of instruments. Silver gleamed. A sharp blade, precise and pointed as if used to cut someone open, lay on the edge. Without thinking it through, she grabbed it and held it tightly, her clammy palms making her grip slick.
And by choice, Luella ventured out of the room and into the dark hall, veering left.
Luella kept waiting to cross paths with someone, but she never did. Not as she left the healing room far behind her, and not as she held fast to the left corridor, venturing further and further away, until the air began to hold a strange scent—that of putrid, rotting flesh, yet it held an undercurrent of fresh air. Freedom.
She followed the scent of dead bodies, one hand curled to her chest, the other gripping the small blade at her side.
She knew it was strange to equate corpses with freedom, but she had no other option than to trust Desara’s words: that escape could be found among death.
It was dark, but darkness didn’t frighten her anymore.
When she felt as if she could walk no further, her luck faltered.
There was an inconspicuous door carved into one of the marbled stone walls. It opened before Luella could hide, and there was nowhere for her to hide, regardless. The halls were void of shadow or tucked-away alcoves.
A body bumped into her right shoulder, sending fire down to her mangled hand.
There were twin sounds of shock. One ripped from Luella without her permission, the other light and feminine.
Hands held Luella’s forearms, keeping her from pulling away. She braced herself, only as a small torch was lit from the being before her, light illuminated a face she knew.
"Floris," Luella whispered harshly, staring at the other female.
Her eyes were wide, hair tumbling freely down her shoulders, the silvery strands catching in the light from the torch. "Princess Luella!" gasped Floris. "Why are you here? What happened? Are you… all right?"
Though delicate as fae were, the healer was still taller than Luella, and she was forced to stare up at her face, beseeching her, "Floris—" The word turned to a cut gasp. "You have to come with me. I’m going to get out of here. We can escape together. Please."
She was so happy at running into Floris that she didn’t even wonder what would happen if the female said:
"No." Floris shook her head and took a step back. "No, Princess. My place is here."
"What?" Luella searched the female’s blue eyes—blue like Luella’s, like a Luna fae. "How could you wish to stay? We can be free. You can come with me. If we find—my Vincire, they will help you."
Floris pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, shoulders quivering as she spoke. "I cannot leave. I have a sister." Her hand fell away. "She needs me. I’ve done so much for her, and I can’t just leave her here withhim."
Through a fog of confusion, Luella remembered that Floris had already told her of her sister.
Every line of the healer’s body was poised forward, as if to flee at this very moment and follow Luella, yet she was held back by duty and love.
"I understand." Luella’s breath hitched with a welling sob as she took Floris’s hands. "I swear it to you, I will return and save you all."
"Save yourself first, Princess." Floris forcibly ripped her hands away from Luella’s, stepping back toward the direction Luella had come from, away from the stench of freedom. "Run."
Luella held her eyes, then nodded, turning toward hope as she walked on. The healer’s parting word echoed off the marbled stone, making her pick up her pace until her bare feet were numb from slapping against the stone.
