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At last, the shivers stopped.
I felt warm.
Sleep was slow to loosen its grip on me, no doubt because of the terrible condition Araki was in. Or maybe it was because I no longer felt that bone-deep chill seeping into me. When I feared I would die, I had reached the link between King Araki and me to assure myself we were both alive. I thought that meant Araki was doing better. If he wasn’t so cold from blood loss, that meant I would be warmer too.
The battle had been so vicious and quick that, at first, I hadn’t noticed the injuries on me. Nothing serious, but it was hard to find a position to sleep where I wasn’t lying on some bruise or scrapes. Memories sifted through my murky mind as I recalled being dragged from the gardens to the cells. At that time, Araki’s general had been here. He had interrogated, threatened me, and demanded I answer. Unfortunately for him, I hadn’t had enough awareness to understand him.
Now awake, with a much clearer head, I was able to get my bearings. My cheek was cool, the ground beneath me hard. The dungeons. It smelled terrible, and the air had a peculiar damp feeling. A scuffling noise behind me told me a person was over there. Another person cleared their throats. The scuffling continued—not moving, more the subtle sound of shifting from foot to foot. Guards, then. That must be where the door was. I opened my eyes. As predicted, I was in a small, cramped cell. The faint light of torches cast lined patterns on the wall I was facing.I closely peered at the lines on the wall and realized they were spell symbols. I reckoned the cell was designed to dampen the magic of its prisoners like some sort of barrier.
I reached inside myself and found the well of magic I’d stolen at the ball and from Araki almost dry. The teleportation had sapped most of it when I teleported Araki and me back. Nevertheless, I tested the barrier confining my magic with the bit of magic still left in me. As the teleportation spell failed, I winced painfully, and a splitting pain pressed into my head.
Giving up, I turned my attention to the guards. Shifting slightly, I tested for any difference in the sounds from the guards. They made no indication they saw me, so I stretched out, my movements quiet but obvious. Still nothing. The guards held an ironclad control of their magic, not allowing leakage. It appeared they were well-trained too.
I pulled my legs back in when a cold draft hit my toes. Then I frowned. I hadn’t been given shoes or socks—the better to keep me from running away—by the Fae warrior who called himself Klaus. So how were my feet so warm?
I looked downward, surprised when I found a blanket over me. It was light and airy. A type of fae-woven fabric that hardly felt like anything was there. Now that I saw it, I could feel the slightest bit of weight on my torso. When did I get a blanket? And why? Klaus didn’t seem to be the sort to give prisoners this sort of luxury. No matter.
Grimacing, I pushed into a sitting position, still silent in my movements. The bloody, torn clothing I’d worn in the forest was kicked into a corner of the cell. I was dressed in rough spun cloth, the sort that was used for potato sacks. It kept me covered even if it was starting to itch.
The guards were both standing on either side of the door. I saw no indication of keys on them. I stood, deciding what to do next.
“What time of day is it?” I croaked.
The guard on the right jumped and spun, hand on his weapon. His companion hid his reaction a little better but still glared at me while gripping the hilt of his sword.
“Is it morning?” I pressed. “Evening?”
They stared at me silently.
“May I please have some water?” I attempted to swallow, but my mouth was too dry.
I was a pretty young woman—if I played sweet and innocent, they would be more likely to let down their guard and allow me a chance at escape. The guards glanced at each other. The one on the right stepped back to a small table on the other side of the corridor while his fellow didn’t take his eyes off me. He picked up a small clay cup, brought it back, and then pushed it through a small hole near the floor. I crawled over to it, feigning weakness, and picked up the cup. The water tasted dirty, and I only drank enough to wet my mouth and throat.
“Is the King awake?” I asked, pitching my voice slightly higher to make myself sound innocent.
Again, all I received in answer was silence.
Reluctantly, I retreated to the far wall, where my face was mostly shadowed. I knew Araki was alive. Even if I couldn’t sense it through our bond, if he died, I would be dead, too. Now that I thought about it, I frowned as I mentally probed the bond. It didn’t seem to be as strong as it had been in the Forestof Shadows. There, I could practically taste his breath on my tongue. At least, I could during that final battle. Perhaps it was because the forest slowly magnified the Union Spell. If it twisted spells cast inside it, it might have had a similar effect on the ones brought inside. Or it could be that Araki was unconscious, and so there was nothing to feel from him… or it could be that he was once again actively shutting it down, making sure I didn’t learn anything about him that might help me bring an end to his reign.
I wrapped my arms around myself, painfully aware that I had very little power now we were back in his palace. What would he do with me now? He’d saved my life in the forest… but was the man I saw a glimpse of in the forest real, or had he been whittling down my defenses?
A sharp pang just beneath my ribs suddenly flared. I winced and instantly masked my reaction, not allowing the guards to see my momentary pain. It disappeared quickly, but I knew what it meant. Araki was awake. And he was actively blocking our connection. For that split second, his control had failed. I stood and came to the cell door, peering down the hallway. I could almost… yes, there it was. Two sets of footsteps heading toward us.
“What do you suppose he is going to do to me?” I asked, making my voice tremble.
Araki appeared in the dim torchlight. The two guards quickly straightened to attention. They stepped to the opposite side of the corridor and bowed deeply toward him. His violet eyes remained on me, shrouded in the shadow. They must only glow in the forest.
“Ah, my little lamb is awake,” Araki drawled. He stepped closer, his face coming into the light. The expression hewore was cold, calculating. My stomach clenched. Araki looked exactly as he had the first time I saw him, an arrogant King peering down at the people who were his subjects, worshippers, and playthings. Only now, I was weaponless, powerless. Araki stepped up close to the barred door. A faint flush in his cheeks spoke to fever, but I would never have guessed he was in pain if I hadn’t felt it through our bond if I couldn’t feel the faint echo of it throbbing in my ribs now. I met his gaze and held it, not about to let myself be intimidated. Behind him, Klaus stood in the shadows. He held his hands behind his back. He almost blended into the walls behind him in his dark clothing, dusky skin and dark hair.
“Well. Now what?” I asked, keeping my tone cool.
I wasn’t going to play the weakling damsel in distress in front of Araki, even if I wished to pull the guards to my side. They hadn’t looked up from their bow. No doubt their fear of him was stronger than whatever morals they had, anyway.
“I suppose that depends on you,” Araki said, wrapping his hands around the iron bars. “Are you going to try to kill me again?”
“I believe you are the one who said I care too much about myself to commit suicide,” I shot back, not giving anything away.
Araki grinned, stretching his lips out to show off white teeth. There was no trace of his otherform.
