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She bumped into me as we let go of each other. “Right.” Her gaze flitted around the now crowded cell. “What the hell is this place?”
“Hell if I know,” I responded. “It’s definitely out of the way of wandering eyes. These guards are bad news.”
Nicole snorted. “Well that’s obvious.” She quickly started counting everyone in the cell. “Sixteen, seventeen, eight…” Then she trailed off. She tugged my arm and pulled me to the side of the cell, in the only spot we could get away from people. “They’re out of room in the jail. Completely, but they won’t return anyone back to the palace. And yet the interrogations are still going strong. Strong, who am I kidding, they’re going crazy.”
“How so?”
Nicole rubbed her temples. “It’s what I imagine witch hunt fervor was like. Just a complete paranoid hysteria. Nobody is safe. They’re starting to interrogate members of the court. High society.”
“What?” I gasped, lowering my voice so hopefully just the two of us could hear. “Fae? They’re questioning members of the court now?”
Nicole looked at me funny and I realized that now meant nothing to her because she didn’t know that war had been declared. It seemed a terribly ridiculous time to be starting some internal civil war on top of the actual war that the Seelie had just declared.
She didn’t let her confusion over my word choice stop her. “Yes, they’re questioning members of the court. An hour before I got taken, Gabe was dragged from his room in chains.” Her eyebrows shot up and I could feel mine mimicking hers.
“Gabe?”
My thoughts turned to Noah and suddenly I didn’t feel at all safe with him trying to help me get out. Something was really amiss. But how could I get to him to tell him to back down?
“Yes, Gabe. No one is safe.” Nicole’s ominous words echoed my sentiments, and I shook my head, trying to process what I was hearing.
Things in the Faerie realm were bubbling over. First the rumors of a spy, then the attack on the king and queen, then the declaration of war—and now, an almost literal witch hunt?
I grabbed my arms and shivered at the thought.
Nicole coughed hard and doubled over.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She held her hand up and coughed a few more times. “Chill, drama queen. I think I caught a cold or something, that’s all.”
I looked around, noticing no one was on the cot at the moment. “Well this frosty cell isn’t going to do you much good then. Here, there’s a cot over there, let’s get you lying down.”
I glanced around the cell, watching the others that had been thrown in in droves over the past few hours. This was madness. Everyone was divided by who they knew or where they worked, or at least that was my best guess given the little cliques forming. Most of us were sticking to ourselves and talking to each other, desperately trying to maintain the sanity going haywire in our minds.
But how long would this last? People would be hungry soon, which would lead to thirst. And anger. And with one cot, it was sure to be a commodity that would be bartered or fought over soon.
My mind went to the worst of scenarios constantly—a fight breaking out among us, the guards throwing more and more people in until we just started killing each other off. Drastic, and yes dramatic as well, but eventually someone in the cell would start cracking. And I really prayed we’d find a way out before that happened.
I pressed my hands into Nicole’s back, pushing her forward. I came around the other side of her and immediately caught my foot on the floor.
Balance eluded me, and because I’d been watching everyone around me instead of where I was going, I fell hard onto the stone ground. Right onto my hands and knees.
The moment my hands slammed into the floor, I screamed as pain ripped through my arm. An excruciatingly sharp stabbing sensation ran from my wrist and radiated outward.
“Agh!” I cried out, after the shock hit from my initial scream.
Nicole crouched next to me. “Come on, Cora. I said let me help you.” Her voice was foggy, like it sounded like she was repeating herself, but I couldn’t remember hearing her the first time.
I couldn’t focus on the pain, despite the fact that it was unrelentingly ripping up my arm.
No, all of my focus was on the damn stone that tripped me up.
A stone that moved as I fell.
