Page 14 of Memory of Ashes

“Where did you come from?” He enunciated the words slowly beside her ear, each one laced with threat.

“Elderarth,” she whispered.

“Really? How?” he whispered back.

“There was a cave.”

“Near Alarrdrassyl?” He pulled back when she didn’t answer.

She looked at him blankly.

“The holy town you were escorted from,” he added.

She shouldn’t be telling him these details. It felt like betrayal, not only to her own kind but to Vesryn and the others. He clearly was no friend of theirs, and although they were no friends of hers, they had treated her more civilly.

She remained quiet.

“You know, if you don’t tell me, I can just burn it out of you, human. I could set your whole mind alight,” he said, pressing a finger to her temple.

What did he mean? Pain radiated through her skull, intensifying until she squeezed her eyes shut. A whimper escaped her.

The pain stopped. She opened her eyes, and he stepped back, his head tilted, his brows knitted in confusion. Abruptly, he turned and stormed from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

*

The silence grew. She’d been on edge, jumping at every noise, waiting for his return. Guards had come and gone, leaving her bread and water, but the dark-haired fae hadn’t come back. She had to escape before he did. She never wanted to feel that pain again. It had felt as though a white-hot blade had sliced through her brain. Even the memory made her head ache.

Was he toying with her, intentionally prolonging the dread of his return?

The room was small, dirty, and empty, except for a pot in the corner and the hard, narrow bed on which she sat. The bed at least had a mattress—a large sack filled with straw—and a sheet. She looked out of the barred window again. The darkening grey sky blended with the rough sea. She was at least three storeys above ground level. The stone walls suggested that she was imprisoned in some kind of fortress.

The waves below crashed aggressively against the rocks. She put her arm through the bars. Perhaps she could fit her body through them, but how would she get down from this height? She scanned the room, mentally cataloguing its contents, searching for something she could use. Her eyes landed on the bed. She rushed over to it and began tearing the sheet into long strips. If she could make some kind of rope, she might be able to lower herself to the rocks below.

She worked quickly, using her teeth when necessary, sorting the strips into sets of three, then twisted and braided the cotton together.

Voices sounded from the corridor. She froze.

They faded into the distance, and she pressed her ear against the door to make sure they’d gone. Once the corridor fell silent again, she resumed work on the makeshift rope, braiding as fast as her fingers would allow. There was no time to test it. She could only hope and pray that it would hold.

She tied one end of the braided rope around a window bar and the other end around her waist. It wasn’t very long, but she hoped it would allow her to get far enough down the wall that she’d survive the landing. She sat on the window ledge, sliding her legs sideways through the bars until her whole body was free. The cool wind from the sea made her pause.

“Don’t look down,” she whispered to herself, fixing her attention on the next handhold.

She lowered herself, clinging to the edge, digging her feet into the wall. Her fingers found narrow gaps between the stones. The familiar act of climbing made her think of her father.

As a girl, he’d taken her on adventures. She’d loved exploring mountainous terrain, climbing rock faces, feeling the adrenaline. What would he make of this strange land? She wished she could talk to him.

She continued her slow descent. If she fell here, she’d almost certainly die. The wind howled around her, blowing her long brown hair into her eyes. She hoped that the sound of the wind and the sea would cover any noise she made.

She climbed down. The stone cut into her fingertips. She’d made it a third of the way when her foot slipped against the stone, forcing her to clutch the makeshift rope. It held, but there wasn’t much rope left. Then she spotted the guard patrolling the ramparts above.

Another window was cut into the wall beneath her. She climbed down onto its ledge, hoping that the room it belonged to was empty, and hid, praying the guard wouldn’t notice the rope.

She untied the rope from her waist and looked down. She did not have far left to descend, but jagged rocks met the base of the wall where waves broke over them.

She closed her eyes, steeling herself, and lowered herself down again. The wind blew wildly, threatening to knock her off. There was no rope to secure her if she fell.

She released a shuddering breath as she reached the bottom and pressed herself against the cold stone, hugging it, taking careful steps as she followed the wall around.