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“I’ve tried to help the others,” I said, helplessly, “but even when I free them, they refuse to escape.”
“That is what this—” The word bit off as a snake head swelled up to the size of my fist and burst. “This place does. There is no hope, life-giver. Not for those of us trapped here.”
“That’s not true. Thatcan’tbe true.” I refused to let it. “I got out—or at least my soul did. Cole is here, and I’m not leaving until I get him out.”
“Oh yes, the old king,” she rasped. “He was nearly as much of a prize as you were.” She paused, perhaps bracing for the next snake to be destroyed, but nothing happened. Maybe that was part of the torture—forever bracing for the strike that would eventually come. How odd, to see such a confident monster struggle to hide her fear. “The under-realm whispers to me, you know. It likes having us old creatures. It tells me it’s still displeased to have lost you all those years ago.”
The last words came out in a cry, another snake disfigured.
“You agree people can escape then,” I reminded her.
“And in what state did you return? A simpering wolf, scared of her own shadow. Not any kind of goddess.”
I said nothing.
“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll tell you how to find the king. The under-realm plays tricks after all, but as it whispers to me, I grow wise.” The realm, disliking this, took three snakes at once. Her roar of pain shook the cavern. “It’s simple, really. You find what you fear here. So drop the brave front, and imagine the worst, worst things that could happen. Imagine him torn in two at his own hand, imagine him on his knees, then cut off at them, imagine him in pain, begging for it to end, and knowing it never will. Then you will find him.”
Even though her words made my stomach feel like it was turning to stone all over again, I thanked her.
She laughed and laughed again, the hollow rattle fading to a cough. “Oh, you shouldn’t thank me for this.”
Chapter X
It was the oppositesensation of summoning my magic. Instead of focusing on life and survival and hope, I let all the insidious thoughts I’d sheltered myself from filter in. Every pain, every torment I’d seen, with the male I loved taking center stage. My attempts to find him in my dreams, when there had only been smoke and pain, the fear that those were more than simple nightmares.
My newly returned memories of my own torture hit me in visceral waves. When I imagined Cole going through that, it nearly broke me.
I walked on aimlessly, barely able to see through my tears. The fear and horror grew. What would I find? Would he be broken by the time I reached him? I wanted to believe otherwise, but every creature I’d encountered so far had gone insane from the torment. My own existence had fractured to escape.
I didn’t pause to try and help anyone else.
The red plains emptied of bodies the farther I went. The ground was splintered with streams of lava, and the farther I went, the wider they grew, until I was perilously balanced on sinking bits of ground to move forward. My mind only half-processed what was happening around me, still sinking into the depths of my terror.
It grew hot, my hair plastered to my forehead and back as I dodged bubbles of lava.
The ground was no longer flat. An incline grew, the sharp angle making my legs burn from exertion, my shifter stamina worn thin after fighting mental battle after mental battle.
And then I saw him.
I didn’t want to believe the figure ahead of me could be Cole. For a brief moment, I wished I would never find him, rather than see him in that state.
His skin was a sea of blisters, dark red cracked skin mottled over the sensitive, exposed flesh. His body was spread wide, shoulders wrenched back at an unnatural angle, while glittering spears impaled his hands and feet into stone. My body recoiled even at this distance at the volume of silver. His head was hung low. His normally night-black hair was cropped short, uneven in patches, with gray powder coloring it nearly white. Large boulders towered over either side, leaning in, and the tops of the stone melted, sprinkling down bits of rock onto him, which cooled on his body, turning to cinders.
I rushed forward, scrambling up the lava-riddled path. A sulfurous smell made me gag, even as it mixed with the sickeningly sweet scent of burning flesh.
“Cole? Cole, it’s me!”
I lifted his head to meet my gaze, gripping him between my fingers.
He looked at me. But there was no recognition, not so much as a flicker.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I vowed. I released him as gently as I could, wishing desperately for my healing powers.Soon. Soon I would get him out of here. I would never stop, not until we were both back where we belonged.
The spears in his feet would be the first to go. I had seen them from adistance. The sight up close was utterly grotesque. His body had tried to heal around the puncture, even as the metal burned him. I tried to grip them with my makeshift shirt, but the metal was too hot to touch without the vines burning.
There was no way I was leaving him here like this. Not a chance.
I bit down on my tongue, bracing for pain, and wrapped my hands around the steel pole.
