Page 18 of Elysian

“Eliza was here.”

“Yes, a long while ago.”

“You have been slumbering for two dawnlight rotations. If you were not snoring, I would have murdered the girl for touching you,” Cassiel commented.

Muffled talking resonated.

“What is that?” I whispered.

“That is why I woke you. The chattering has been increasing. His Highness ordered me to wake you.”

I dragged my palms down my face. If he had her wake me . . .

“What did you hear?”

Cassiel regarded me, expression sharp. “They are coming to take you.”

Fortunately, his weakness had not compromised his heightened hearing.

Footsteps became louder. I leaned closer to Hester.

“Lie on your side, curled up. Do not move.” I was unsure who would show themselves, and it was best she avoid becoming a target if she wanted to survive.

She dropped onto her side and closed her eyes.

A swarm of officers passed my cell in a blur of black velvet and gold. Three of them held a bucket hanging from both hands. Egan stood before the cell, his head tilted up, meeting Cassiel’s eyes.

I held my breath as they stared each other down. The officers, five of them in total, fell into line behind Egan, all except the last, who was in the midst of placing a bucket down.

With my next blink, Cassiel had crossed his cell and ripped out the officer’s throat. Flesh and ligaments extended from the seizing body. Cassiel yanked, ripping them all free. The dying officer continued blinking, but his face held evident shock. Then he toppled over and landed with a thud that left deafening silence behind.

Blood painted Egan’s cheek, but he had not moved. I let out a shaky, horror-filled breath. Egan finally looked at me.

“They were warned not to step too close to the cell.”

His hand flexed at his side, drawing my attention toward it. He held the object with the curse.

“Do not speak to her,” Cassiel threatened, his tone low and silky. As he backed away, the chain connected to one ankle rattled. He pressed his shoulder against the bars opposite to the ones that divided us, leaning against it. Egan’s face became a sharp blade.

“Even in a cell, you manage to create destruction.”

Cassiel smiled, showing his fangs. “And you remain nothing but a coward.”

Egan’s expression cooled. Hester peeked at me from the floor, and from my angle, I saw the debate on her face. I shook my head, and she kept still.

“You—” Egan cut himself off, then he looked down . . . where he held the effigy. With relish clear on his face, he snapped something. My eyes whipped to Cassiel, where he had gone limp against the bars, his neck bent at an uneven angle.

I choked on my breath.

“Cassiel?” I whispered.

He slid down to the ground, body braced by the bars, then he did not move. Nothing but slackened features.

I screamed, the shrill sound ripping from my throat. My knees buckled, and I fell.

“Now,” Egan ordered.

In a swift motion, that burly officer from the carriage was inside the cell, bringing a small blade down.