It’s faint at first, but it gets louder.
Oh.
Oh, thank the suns.
Footsteps—two pairs, by the sounds of it—are coming closer. One is lighter than the other, and they’re getting louder.
I gasp, pressing my face between the bars.
“Hello?” I cry out. “Please, help me! I need more water.”
Every word hurts, but that no longer matters. What is pain when compared to the chance of being rescued?
The footsteps are drawing near.
And then I see it—a glimmer of light, bobbing up and down in the distance, a star trying to shine through the clouds on a dark and stormy night.
Growing brighter, the light infuses me with hope. And gods, I needed that. I hadn’t realized how deeply despair had settled into my bones until now. Relief floods my veins, shoving thoughts of my demise away. Someone is coming for me.
“Thank you.” I murmur the hoarse words. The gods may have abandoned me, butsomeoneis looking out for me. I’m not going to die in this cell, alone.
The bobbing star is coming my way, and I couldn’t look away from it even if I tried. It brings the promise of people, and with it, relief. I strain towards it.
I didn’t enjoy the dark before, but now, I positively loathe it.
Soon, I can make out two shadowy, cloaked forms standing near my cell. I think they’re men, judging by the bulk of their bodies, but I could be mistaken.
Neither of them says anything for several minutes, and my skin prickles under the weight of their stares.
“I know you’re there,” I rasp. Each word hurts. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
They don’t say anything, and frustration is quick to bubble inside me. Why come all this way only to silently stare at me?
If I couldn’t see the flickering light—which I now realize is a lantern, being held by the shorter of the two figures—and if I couldn’t hear the steady sounds of their breaths, I would thinkthat perhaps they have been conjured by my mind in a desperate attempt to keep me sane.
But I know they’re real.
“I need water,” I say as firmly as I can manage, which isn’t very at all. “Please, I’m incredibly thirsty.” I curl a hand around the base of my throat. “Can you help me?”
Minutes that feel like hours stretch before one of them finally moves.
The shorter man hands the lantern to his companion, saying something too low for me to hear before he steps forward.
A hood hides his face, casting him in shadows. He tilts his head and crouches in front of my cell. Locks of forest green curls fall on his forehead, and even the shadows can’t hide the etchings of age on his dark brown face. His eyes sweep over me, halting on my Mark.
I repeat my desperate plea for water, the silence even louder than before.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been stared at, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me—all harsh and angry—that makes my stomach contort. I amnotan animal, nor am I a curiosity to be studied.
I am thirsty beyond belief and exhausted, but my anger at this man’s behaviour momentarily pushes those aside.
“What?” I snap. “Haven’t you seen a fucking Given before?”
The man’s eyes remain on my Mark, but I swear he flinches. Another endless moment passes before he shifts.
“Soren?” The shorter man’s eyes never leave my Mark.
“Sir?” The taller man at the back takes a step towards me. His voice sounds younger, closer to Gabriel’s age, but I can’t be sure.
