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“Who are you?” I asked again. “I am Fiona.”
“I know,” a rough voice with an edge reached me from the other side. It was a man. “Stop talking.”
I didn’t recognize his voice. He hadn’t deigned to use the little opening on the metal door to meet my gaze.
I did as I was told. Our cell did not have any windows, which meant I had no way of telling time. But it had been a while since they put us in here.
And Orla hadn’t woken up yet.
Perhaps she never would.
Queill had used a different vial while giving the two of us potions. Perhaps Orla’s was poison and mine was only to take away my magic.
“Can I get some water?” I asked the man. If I could just see his face, and talk to him directly, perhaps he would take pity on me and help.
“No,” he said.
“I’m thirsty,” I said.
He did not reply.
I gave up. I kept staring at the darkness, feeling guilty every time my eyes darted toward Orla. Time did not pass, or perhaps it did.
My arms and legs ached from the awkward position. I could not move them properly with the chains around my ankles and wrists. Drifting into sleep to let the guilt go away was impossible. All I could do was wait.
But I did not know what I was waiting for.
A door outside opened, and the metallic sound made me stir. My leg cramped, and I couldn't help but wince as I tried to adjust it.
“My shift isn’t over,” the man who had refused me water said to someone as I finally managed to get rid of the cramp.
“Are you questioning your orders, soldier?” a familiar voice replied on the other side.
“Of course not, sir!” the man replied.
There was no other talk. I heard the sound of metal once again. Then, Padraig’s face appeared at the little opening on the metal door.
“Princess,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said.
I didn’t know if Padraig was alone now. I didn’t know why he was here, but deep down, I hoped he had come to save me.
“Lady Queill and the king are on their way here,” he said. “They are going to question you about what you did.”
“What did I do?” I asked.
“They will ask who helped you find the location of the prison,” Padraig said. “They will execute anyone who did.”
I met his gaze.
“No one helped me,” I replied.
Padraig’s eyes widened. But he understood my meaning.
“Lady Queill is a mind magicker,” Padraig said. “She will use that against you to find out the truth.”
“She can control me with her mind magic,” I replied. “But she does not have access to my thoughts. They are safe.”
