by Tara Grayce
She grasped the locking bar and hauled with all her might. Arm shaking with the strain, she lifted one end of the bar free. It toppled from its other bracket and tumbled to the floor with a loud crack, thankfully covered by the rumble of yet another booming gun somewhere in the fortress above.
As she reached to push the door open, the gunfire died away, and other noises took its place. The outer door to this dungeon corridor grated open, followed by the tramp of heavy bootfalls.
Melantha peeked through the bars. A squad of six trolls marched down the passageway. Her stomach churned. They were here to take Farrendel to his death, and any moment now one of them would notice the locking bar of her dungeon cell lying on the floor.
What could she do? She was too late to get to Farrendel, and she could not fight one troll by herself, much less six.
But she could not allow them to hurt Farrendel. Weylind was here, and rescue was so close. All Melantha had to do was delay these trolls long enough that help could arrive for Farrendel. It did not matter if she died in the attempt, as long as Farrendel was freed.
With a scream, she rammed into the door, flinging it open. The trolls had paused in front of her door, one kneeling to pick up the fallen locking bar. The dungeon door smashed into his face, sending him sprawling on the floor with blood spurting from his nose.
Melantha did not wait for the rest of them to gather their wits. Still screaming like she had lost her mind, she leapt on the back of the nearest troll, clawing at his eyes. Thanks to her healing training, she knew the places to scratch and bite where it would cause the most pain.
The troll howled and tried to yank her from his back. Still, she hit and kicked and flailed. She would hold out as long as she could, conserving her magic. If help did not arrive in the next few minutes and it looked like the trolls would get past her to hurt Farrendel, then she would do her best to touch all of them and break her healer’s oath. Perhaps she would die, but she would take all of these trolls with her.
As long as Farrendel survived, it would be worth it.
So close. So very close. Essie’s heart pounded, and it was all she could do not to go tearing ahead to reach his side as quickly as possible. After all this time, she almost had him back.
Edmund and the elf scout returned. “The tunnels are lit ahead.”
“We must be getting close.” Julien doused the lantern he held, as did the Escarlish soldier with the second lantern.
A scream shattered the stillness of the tunnels, coming from the direction where Essie sensed Farrendel lay.
“Double time.” Julien broke into a steady jog, the other soldiers keeping pace with him.
Essie hurried to keep up. Even a jog felt too slow, though it would be reckless to charge full speed into an unknown situation.
After going around a bend, the end of the tunnel was blocked with a metal, barred gate. Peering over her brothers’ shoulders, Essie could see that their passageway opened into a large chamber with water seeping into a pool at one end. Several passageways branched from the chamber, all of the tunnels barred with metal doors and lit with torches, though the door to one of the tunnels stood open.
Another scream rang out, far closer now.
That scream didn’t sound like Farrendel. Thanks to his nightmares, she knew what his screams of pain sounded like. This scream was higher pitched. More feminine. Melantha?
Essie struggled to keep her breathing even. Was it possible for her heart to pound any harder? What she wouldn’t give for some of Farrendel’s magic to blast this door out of their way, but he was unconscious and the crackle in the heart bond lay dormant.
Edmund took out some tools, reached through the bars, and inserted the lock picks. After a minute of fiddling, something in the lock clicked open. Edmund nudged the door, and the hinges gave a grating groan.
Julien led the way with one of the Escarlish soldiers keeping pace. Edmund and the elves jogged after them, weapons drawn. They charged into the passageway with the open door. A shout rang out, then the clash of swords.
Essie skidded to a halt at the end of that passageway, gripping her rifle.
Melantha clung to one troll’s back and shoulders, clawing at his face as if she intended to tear his face off with her bare hands. Her hair straggled down her back, her cheeks and eyes sunken. With the way she was screeching, she looked and sounded like a thing from a ghost story told around a campfire.
Five other trolls had turned and raised weapons, fending off Julien, Edmund, the Escarlish soldiers, and the elven warriors.
Essie raised her rifle to her shoulder, but she couldn’t get a shot. Nor would it be wise to fire a rifle in such a confined space.
Two of the trolls went down. The first troll managed to fling Melantha from his back, and she went down, skidding into a wall and lying still. The troll raised his sword, angling it toward Melantha’s prone body.
Essie sighed. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, but Melantha had clearly been fighting the trolls. Raising her rifle, Essie lined up her shot, waiting until the others were all struggling in a knot against the other wall, before she squeezed the trigger. The report of the rifle battered her ears, echoing off the stones.
The troll went down, blood spreading across his chest.
Outnumbered, the final three trolls were subdued. Julien and Edmund pushed the two wounded trolls into a nearby dungeon cell, locking them in. The cell wouldn’t hold them long, as the door was locked with only a bar, but it would keep them out of the way for now and make them easier to guard.
Essie slung her rifle onto her back once again and hurried down the corridor.
Melantha pushed to her hands and knees, glancing at them through a curtain of greasy hair with wild eyes. Hollows dug underneath her cheekbones and eyes while her tattered red dress hung from gaunt shoulders and bony hips. Her feet were bare, and the back of her dress had been cut open at one point, revealing welts and scars still pink and fresh.
What had happened to her? Essie halted in the corridor, staring. She had not expected to feel this much pity for Melantha. Even though Melantha had hurt Farrendel and brought this upon herself, Essie couldn’t gloat. Not when Melantha had clearly suffered for those choices.
With one trembling hand, Melantha pointed down the dungeon corridor. “Farrendel is in the last cell at the far end. Please hurry. He has not responded to me at all today.”
Essie took a running step down the corridor. Farrendel was down there. He was still alive, she could sense that much. How badly was he hurt?
Julien caught her around the waist before he could pass him. “Let us go first. Just in case...just let us go in first, all right?”
Julien and Edmund weren’t sure what they would find in that cell. While she appreciated that they were trying to protect her, this was her husband they were talking about.
Still, Essie nodded and didn’t try to run past when Julien let her go.
After giving a quiet order for the soldiers to stay there and guard the wounded trolls, Julien strode down the passageway. Essie trailed after him, and Edmund fell into step beside her.
One of the elves stopped to help—or, perhaps, apprehend—Melantha while the other two padded behind Essie and Julien, their gazes darting about the dungeon.
The dungeon cell at the far end was locked with only a large stone bar, though the door itself appeared to be made from stone fashioned to look like an iron door. It even swung on stone hinges. Definitely a door designed to hold Farrendel.
After lifting the locking bar, Julien opened the door and stepped inside. Essie hurried to follow. Edmund raised a hand, like he wanted to stop her, but he halted.
The interior of the cell was dark, lit only by the torches outside. It was round, entirely stone from ceiling to walls to floor.
The stench slammed into her first. Blood and unwashed body.
But even that wasn’t what froze her in place. It was the sight of Farrendel, pinned spread-eagle to the floor like a frog in a science
experiment waiting to be dissected. His hair lay in shortened, uneven strands plastered to his temples. Each of his ribs stuck out clearly while blood had dried in a solid brown puddle all around him.
Even though she could sense he was still alive through the heart bond, she stared at his chest for several long seconds, trying to pick out the steady rise and fall of his breathing, though it was so shallow it was barely detectable.
Her stomach churned, and a part of her wanted to bolt back out the door and run far away from this cell. She had known Farrendel would not look like himself. That he would be hurt. But she had not realized how painful it would be to see him like this.
It took concentrated effort to force her legs to move. She knelt next to Farrendel’s shoulder where the bones of his collarbone and shoulder jutted against his skin. She gently brushed at a lock of hair on his forehead. “Farrendel, my love. Please wake up.”
He didn’t even stir at her touch. How far gone was he?
At least the heart bond hadn’t immediately connected like it had on the battlefield after the ambush, so he must not be so bad off yet that he needed her to keep his heart beating.
Or he was so close to death the heart bond knew not to try.
Julien set his pack on the ground and pulled out a hammer and a chisel. “You’ll have to let me know if trying to break the stone holding him is hurting him too badly.”
Essie nodded and rested her hand on Farrendel’s shoulder. She reached through the heart bond, trying to reach for him, his magic, something to draw him back to her. But he didn’t stir, the heart bond itself feeling cold.
Scuffling came from outside. Melantha’s voice. “Please. I can help him.”
Two of the elves appeared, holding Melantha upright between them. She stood, but she kept shifting, as if her feet pained her. Her gaze focused on Essie. “Please, let me help. I can give him strength with my magic. He might be able to break the stone himself. He did it before. Please.”
The last thing Essie wanted to do was let Melantha anywhere near Farrendel. But Farrendel had been convinced Melantha was helping him, and she had been fighting the trolls in the passageway.
Julien gripped the hammer and chisel as if they were weapons, his body tense. Edmund crouched, hand on his knife.
Essie held out a staying hand to them. Farrendel needed all the help he could get right now, even if that help came from Melantha. “Let her heal him.”
The elves released Melantha, and she stumbled forward, falling to her knees next to Essie.
Essie shifted so that she sat closer to Farrendel’s head, resting her hand on his forehead.
Melantha pressed both hands to Farrendel’s chest. A green light flared around her fingers as she poured her magic into him. “Come on, Farrendel. Remember the plan. We are leaving here together, remember. Please, little brother.”
Farrendel stirred, his head shifting beneath Essie’s hand. His eyelids fluttered, giving a brief glimpse of his silver-blue eyes. “Essie?”
“I’m here, Farrendel. I’m here.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “Do not leave.”
“I won’t.” She rested her other hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
He was still so listless, just lying there. Essie had expected something more. More determination. More of the warrior she knew was in him.
Melantha growled. Her hands flared with an even brighter green, enough that the hair on Essie’s arms prickled, before the magic spread into Farrendel.
Melantha slumped. One of the elves caught her before she fell to the ground.
Farrendel’s eyes snapped open. His gaze darted first to Melantha, unconscious or nearly so in the elf scout’s grip, to Julien, still gripping the chisel and hammer, before finally swinging up to focus on Essie. Farrendel’s eyebrows knotted. “Are you really here?” His voice was a rasping whisper.
“Yes.” Essie dug out her canteen, uncapped it, and held it to Farrendel’s mouth. She carefully tilted the canteen, only dribbling in a little bit of water at a time.
Farrendel managed a few swallows before coughing and grimacing. He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a few deep breaths.
“Is that better?” Essie stroked the hair from his face again. “Now lie still. Julien is going to break the stone holding you down.”
Farrendel’s eyes flew open again. “You should not be here.” He struggled against the stone holding him down. Fresh blood dribbled from his wrists and his shoulders.
Was that stone...impaling him? Essie’s stomach heaved, but she forced herself to smile and press on Farrendel’s shoulder to keep him still. “Shh. It’s all right. Lie still.”
“No, you need to get out of here. I cannot let them hurt you. If they find you here...” Farrendel’s fists clenched. “This cannot end like last time.”
“I know, I know. Calm down.” Essie met Julien’s gaze. He shrugged, as if he wasn’t sure what to do either.
Edmund gestured toward Melantha. “Your sister said something about a plan?”
Farrendel stilled and glanced toward Melantha. Something in his gaze sharpened, alert and focused. “Yes. The plan. Stand back. All of you.”
The elf picked up Melantha, slung her over a shoulder, and retreated to the wall. Julien and Edmund rose to their feet, eyeing Farrendel.
Essie hesitated. Now that she had found him, she wasn’t ready to step away, even a few feet.
“Go.” Farrendel’s jaw set.
She needed to trust him. Essie clambered to her feet and pressed her back to the stone wall. Julien and Edmund closed in on either side of her.
Blue lightning-bolt magic flared around Farrendel’s hands. The crackle in the heart bond built, then was yanked from the heart bond. All of it at once.
Essie gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “I think we might want to close our eyes.”
The blue lightning bolts built around Farrendel until it was hard to breathe from all the magic.
Essie squeezed her eyes shut, but even then the blue magic seared against her eyelids. She covered her head with her arms.
Several sharp cracks sounded in quick succession. Farrendel’s magic lessened.
Essie lowered her arms and blinked several times past the dazzle of magic. She squinted at Farrendel.
Magic still flowed down his arms, crackling around him. He rolled, pushed himself onto his elbows, then onto his knees. When he raised his head, his silver-blue eyes burned, his expression hard. He rose to his feet.
Essie would have run to him, kissed him, but he was all Laesornysh at that moment, hard and fierce.
Julien gestured at the door. “We should get out of here. We came in the back way, and we can get out that way.”
“Where is Weylind?” Farrendel’s hands clenched around bolts of power.
“He’s—”
A boom shook through the stones around them. Something tugged deep inside the heart bond, and Essie pressed a hand to the wall, her shoulder bumping into Edmund’s. She could sense a blast of Farrendel’s magic, though it wasn’t coming from him.
No, instead, she could feel Farrendel drawing that power to him. A surge of magic flowed through the stones, and the dungeon cell lit blue for a moment as blue lightning swarmed over Farrendel before settling, glowing, around his hands. His stance steadied even more, something in his eyes glowing hard and deadly.
Julien’s mouth twisted with something between a grin and a grimace. “I think they set off the bomb at the gates.”
“Then we will be going out the front.” Farrendel stalked past them, his magic sparking around him. He disappeared out the door.
“Do you think he knows the way out?” Edmund pointed toward the now empty doorway.
Essie shrugged. She didn’t know Farrendel’s plans as there hadn’t been a good way to communicate them through the heart bond. Though, she wasn’t sure Farrendel was even sticking to his own plan at the moment.
Melantha was still unconscious, slung over the
elven scout’s shoulder. If she knew, she wouldn’t be telling them any time soon.
This wasn’t how Essie had pictured this rescue going. Somehow, she had imagined something more...romantic. Maybe a kiss, though she would have been happy with a hug.
But it was all right. What had she expected, really? They were in the dungeon of the enemy fortress. It was probably an inopportune time for kissing or hugging or anything romantic. Highly illogical to waste time with any of those things, after all.
Later. They would have time for that later. First, they needed to catch up with Farrendel, then they had to finish this once and for all.
FARRENDEL STALKED down the corridor, noting the footsteps following him. Edmund, Julien, Essie, and the others. As long as they were behind him, they would be safe. He brushed past the dead troll bodies lying on the floor.
He let his magic flood him, lending him strength. After two weeks of idleness, he probably should not be standing, much less walking. Somewhere, distantly, he felt the weakness in his muscles and body. But with Melantha’s magic lending him strength and his own magic filling him, he felt powerful.
Normally, he used as little of his magic as possible, aware of how much destruction he could cause.
But now, everything in him had been stripped raw. Emptied. And he did not care if he destroyed this fortress stone by stone. As long as his family, both human and elven, survived this day, he did not care how much destruction he caused.
He could feel the way the stone still pierced him. Last time, the trolls had kept the stone just beneath his skin. Restraining him, but far from killing him. This time, the stone burrowed deeper, tearing through him with an abandon that told him King Charvod did not intend for him to survive a second time. Farrendel was not meant to survive this rescue.
Fine. Embrace the pain. Embrace death, for he was dead already. If he was not meant to survive, then King Charvod would not survive this day either.
King Charvod had tried, but Farrendel had not broken. He had become stronger. Stronger in the knowledge that pain meant nothing to him anymore. Stronger with the fire that burned in his chest.
