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“Them.” A soft snort. “You know exactly who is trying to claim her. He’s taunting me with it.”
“Dusk is a coward,” replies the unfamiliar male. It’s a guard. It has to be. I don’t know who it can be, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s a guard and not, like, a visitor or a prisoner. “He taunts everyone trapped within Siúcra because he knows that no one can retaliate.”
“He pushes too far. I might not always stand back and take it.”
“You have your ffrindau to protect—”
“She isn’t.” A moment’s pause, then the lyrical voice develops a gruff edge. “She can’t be.”
“The prophecy, Rysdan—”
“Don’t use that name.”
Rys’s retort has such venom in it, I have to look. I have to know who the hell is brave enough to make him that mad.
There’s not enough light in the hall. Either that, or the guard is purposely keeping to the shadows. Without turning my head all of the way, the most I can tell is that it’s a Seelie guard. The pale golden glow coming off his skin is a big clue, but it’s my only one.
He moves closer to the bars, almost as if he’s trying to calm Rys’s anger. “You have to see what I do. Surrounded by sunshine and sky… she has hair of gold woven with blue that surrounds her face. It fits.”
“I thought the same with Zella, her blonde hair and her blue eyes. I was wrong then just like you’re wrong now.”
“You want me to be wrong. You don’t want to admit there’s a chance—”
“Focus on finding your ffrindau,” Rys snaps. It spooks me so much that I close my eyes tightly. I can only imagine how pissed he’d be if he found out I was listening to his private conversation. Nope. “Leave me to forget all about searching for mine.”
“Stubborn fool. You don’t have to stay inside. Oberon has returned. You can pledge your loyalty to the Summer King and make your sacrifice to Siúcra. You can be free.”
“If only it was as easy as that.”
“It can be.”
Rys doesn’t reply for a while.
What’s going on? I don’t dare risk opening my eyes in case he figures out that I’m awake. I struggle to control my breathing, pretending as if I’m fast asleep and not totally eavesdropping on him.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Rys says. “I thought I heard… forget it. It’s not important.”
“It might be.” The guard explains, “Dusk is on patrol tonight. I better go before he wonders why I linger before the traitor’s cell.”
A soft murmur. I think my cellmate expects that I might be listening in after all because not only does he agree to end it, but he lowers his voice so that I can’t pick up on another word. The guard does the same and, within minutes, he’s gone.
Damn it, I never got to see his face.
Barely audible footsteps tiptoe closer to me. I hold my breath, but only the rustle of the sheet as he lays back down follows it. After a few minutes, his breathing evens out. It’s probably a safe bet that he’s gone back to sleep.
I don’t peek. Just in case. I wait a few minutes more, then roll onto my side so that I can stare at the blank, stony, craggy wall across from me and mouth the words, “Oh my God,” to no one in particular.
What the hell was that about?
I wake up, feeling groggy and super tired. It’s a struggle to remember what day today is and, after a few seconds, I mutter, “Twenty-three.”
“Mmm… did you say something?”
At the unexpected voice, I jerk and nearly fall off of the cot.
How could I have forgotten that I’m sharing a cell with Rys now?
