Morgan gives Tavish a dark look. 'For what you did to Bryn, I should fucking leave you here,' he snarls.
Tavish shakes his head vigorously. 'The men were working alone. I didn't know. I swear it. I didn’t know.' He looks at me. 'Ipromise you that...Bryn. I’m sorry for it. They’ll be dealt with in Halsford. If— When we get back.’
Tavish looks over his shoulder at his wife who hasn’t spoken to him, nor even looked at him since they found out what his men had done.
‘If you must leave me and the ones who did it here, then so be it, but, please, Morgan, take my wife. Take my babe from this place. I beg you.’
Morgan snorts, and leans closer. ‘I’ll leave no one to face slavery in the Dark, merchant. Not even the cunts who hurt my female. I’m no monster, despite what you believe.’
He unlocks the cell and passes me the keys so that I can free the rest in the next cage.
‘Where are the others?' I ask as they begin to file out, giving us looks of gratitude. 'Where's Jak?'
‘He’s counting guards and ensuring the Ring will take us all away from this place. Luckily the bitch’s court seems to be having their own festival. They’re drinking heavily. We have a chance.’
'And…Locke?' I ask, taking hold of his arm, my heart in my throat, hoping against hope that if Morgan and Jak are here, it means that Locke was merely playing a part.
He turns away. 'He's here for Fiana.'
I pull him back. 'But is he…with us?'
Morgan’s countenance softens and he caresses my cheek. ‘Of course he is, my little human. I'm sorry he had to pretend that he wasn't. His job was to keep the fae queen busy while we took the lay of the land. He's with us.'
I close my eyes for a moment, a sob bubbling its way up my throat. But I swallow it back. I can be relieved that he’s not a filthy traitor, and that he truly cares for me later.
'Is the Underhill coming?' I ask instead.
'I don't know. We left a message for Dane and Lia in the Hall should they return, but we have no idea what's going on in the Underhill. Their Ring is locked tight. Whatever’s happening there is big. We can’t count on their help.'
'What now?' I ask.
Morgan looks over the sea of faces and opens his mouth to speak, but stops, listening.
Footsteps from the direction of the other door.
‘Quickly,’ he whispers, ‘back into the cells.’
Some of the villagers shake their heads, others let out wails. No one moves.
‘Do it!’ Tavish hisses. ‘He’s right. The unkillable fae is likely returning. None of us are a match for him but Morgan. Go!’
Though I hate that they all listen to him, they at least do as he says, swiftly going back into the cages, and closing the doors quietly.
‘You as well, Bryn. I need the element of surprise.’
I balk, but I do it, closing myself in, but not before I grab the knife that Morgan took from the youth he killed. I know he has others. He gives me a wink and a grin, which I return.
Morgan looks around the dungeon and hauls up the body of the young guard he killed with a grimace.
‘Gods, he’s little more than a faeling,’ he laments, carrying him across the dark space to where he dumped the one he came in with, and gently lowering him to the floor in the corner out of sight with care.
With regret.
But he straightens with a determined look on his face. ‘Say nothing,’ he reminds the villagers. ‘And stay in the cells until it’s done.’
He hides in the shadows as the door opens once more and Warrior saunters back in. He’s covered in blood that clearly isn’t his own, and his smile is wide.
There’s a skip in his step as he comes through the dungeon, past our cells.
