“Arina…She’s not dead?” Gregor, like Ren, asks the room.
Ren lifts his hands uncertainly.
Jura mouths,I don’t know.
“She’s alive,” I say. “She’s here. And we’ve wasted enough time. We’re getting her.”
Twino shifts. “Clara, I know that Arina’s death was—”
“Ravin told me she was alive,” I interrupt pointedly. “This is not ravings following the abuse Glavstone put me through. I assure you, I am quite mentally competent. This is not my first experience surviving torture.” Ren and Jura both wince at that. “She’s here in the dungeons. And I would bet anything thatsheis the Star.” My eyes drag back to Kaelis. “Level three. Cell five.”
Kaelis slowly nods, confirming what I already know. His voice is soft and solemn when he says, “The Star, based on what I uncovered, is being held on level three, cell five.”
“Fuck.” I turn and storm back to Glavstone’s body and kick his corpse in the side for good measure. I don’t know what he, specifically, did to my sister. But fuck him for it. Fuck the whole world. I grab the key ring off his desk and then head for the closet door.
As I open it, the world seems to oscillate. For a second, I’m back in Eza’s vision. It’s surreal just how closely my motions match what I did then. Except this time, the armored individuals that move behind me are my friends. Kaelis’s voice is actually present as he pushes past Gregor and Jura, not distant and disembodied as it was in the vision.
“Clara,” he says.
“Yes?” I unlock the trapdoor in the floor of the closet. Just as I’m going to start down the stairs, Kaelis grabs my wrist and shoves something into my palm.
A deck.
The cards are gorgeously made, with gilded edges and inked with heavy lines that show a complete disregard for conserving precious powder. I instantly recognize the elegant, almost minimalistic style of the main subjects of the cards contrasted with the heavily detailed framing. And if not for that, I’d still recognize the way the magic flows through them almost as easily as I’d recognize it channeling through my own cards. It’s undeniably Kaelis, from the first brushstroke to the last caress of power.
I hold his stare, and Kaelis leans forward to speak only to me. “You deserve a better deck than whatever swill Glavstone inked.”
“Thank you.” I mean it fully.
Kaelis nods. As he releases his grip, his fingers drag over the back of my hand. There’s so much quiet longing in his touch. An apology that this is not the time or the place for. A yearning that doesn’t want to be ignored, yet must be.
I turn, brace myself, and start down the stairs.
All I can think of is how much this place has taken from me. I want to rip the whole thing apart, stone by stone, every cell and iron bar. Aslong as Halazar stands, it will always call me back. It will always be a part of me.
From the outside, Halazar looks like a box, with three stories extending above the rocky island. Basement floors descend three levels into the bedrock of the island as well, but each is only one hallway long, with just a few cells lining it. These levels are stacked on top of one another, connected by stairs at their ends.
As we descend deeper into the bowels of Halazar, the air becomes as thick as the scum that oozes down the walls.
“Welcome to the first level of the dungeons,” I announce as the stairs finally end at a compact hallway. I lift a cold lantern off the wall and summon an Ace of Wands from Glavstone’s deck; I am saving Kaelis’s cards for when I really need them. Sure enough, the magic is weaker than I’d like—than I’m used to—thanks to Glavstone’s mediocre inking.
The lantern is still full of oil and sparks to life, but its glow doesn’t reach very far. Doors emerge from the darkness like ghosts. Everything is eerily still and silent until a door suddenly rattles so violently it nearly bursts off its hinges. Screaming rises from within, a sound more beast than man. Other prisoners join in a haunting litany of yelling and shrieks.
“What’s happening?” Ren’s voice has a slight quiver.
“They know we’re here,” I say.
“So they’re trying to escape?” Gregor reasons.
“Maybe. Maybe they think a beating is coming. Maybe they are expressing their pain when they know someone can hear them.” The door is still rattling behind us even after the darkness consumes it.
“Were you…” Jura struggles with the question. I let her. “Were you kept down here?”
“Once,” I say, pausing at the end of the hall at the precipice of another staircase. “Only on this first level. From here on, the other levels are unknown to me.”
But deep below is my sister, and nothing will stop me from getting to her.
“How long did he keep you here?” Kaelis murmurs over my shoulder.
