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His mouth grew dry and he gulped as it climbed the stone wall and came to rest beside his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, its skin was a smooth, shiny golden brown, and there didn’t appear to be any poisonous fangs bared in pursuit of his flesh. In fact, the hub in the middle of its legs lacked any distinguishing features. He was surprised when it spoke to him.
“Oh, good, you are alive.”
Its voice was soft and feminine, and soothing to his lonely ears. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tirani. Liora asked me to check on you.”
The mention of her name made his heart pound. “Liora! Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. But now it’s you we have to worry about.”
Tirani had a point. “Can you get me out of here?” he asked.
“Not without being discovered. Besides, I’ve heard rumors you’ll be brought out to face our master soon, anyway.”
Stephen’s uneasiness returned. “Then what?”
“That remains to be seen.”
He swallowed again. “Is he going to kill me?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t sound very reassuring.” He sighed. “Any tips for staying alive?”
“Be humble. Be respectful. Address him as ‘Lord Thirvar,’ or by his title, or even just ‘sir.’ Try to be honest, but when he asks you about Liora, I’d suggest not revealing how you feel about her. You don’t want to show any obvious weakness he can exploit.”
His nose crinkled. He wasn’t sure how much Tirani knew of his relationship with the beautiful sorceress, yet he conceded the less others learned, the better. “Thank you.”
“Good luck.” She skittered back down the wall and moved toward the door.
“Wait!” Stephen called after her.
She turned around.
“Tell her…tell her I…” He pondered what kind of message he wanted to send along, though he wasn’t sure how much he could trust his new acquaintance. “Tell her I miss her. And I can’t wait to see her again.”
Tirani paused, and he couldn’t tell if she was looking at him or not. “Very well,” she finally answered. “Perhaps I’ll see you upstairs.” She closed the door behind her and vanished into the darkness.
Stephen’s fears had not been assuaged. He spent the next several hours further contemplating his safety, the topic which had been at the front of his mind ever since he had first been apprehended. His thoughts were again interrupted by the sound of footsteps at the door, and he jerked his head up. The man who had initially brought him into the dungeon from Liora’s house entered the cell, glaring at him with fiery yellow eyes. The midnight fur covering his entire body almost made him blend into the shadows, yet he still commanded an intimidating presence.
The muscular feline tossed a nondescript clump of fabric onto a cleaner area of the floor before retrieving a set of keys from his waistband. “Get dressed. Our lord has requested your presence,” he said as he removed the chains from the wall.
Stephen wiggled his fingers as the circulation returned to his hands, the metal restraints clamped on his wrists. “Kai?” he tentatively asked, trying to remember his escort’s name.
“Yes?”
He let out a long breath. “Thanks for the clothes.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He picked up the pile, which turned out to be little more than a scratchy robe and a thin belt. The robe was baggy on him and fell past his knees, but he was able to secure it in place. Though pain stabbed through his leg and he was shaky on his feet, he was eager to leave the dreary cell.
After endless time spent underground, daylight made him clench his eyes shut, and he tripped as he emerged from the dungeon. Kai caught him, growling as he saved him from falling on his face, and yanked at the chains once he stood. “Hurry up. Lord Thirvar does not like to be kept waiting.”
Stephen said nothing as he was led into a sprawling room twice the size of the modest house he had left behind. It was sparsely furnished and minimally decorated, save for several muted tapestries adorning the windowless walls. At the opposite end of the room stood an ornate throne carved from heavy black wood. On it sat the man who had sent for him. Even in this position, Thirvar’s immense size could not be mistaken, and he exuded a menacing authority without moving a muscle.
The fearsome ruler showed no glimpses of his thoughts or feelings as his captive was shoved before him. “I hope you’ve found our hospitality suitable, stranger,” he said.
