“Go, Torin,” I whispered to him. He couldn’t hear me, but maybe he could feel it through our link.
His fingers curled, and he gave a strangled cry before he yanked the doors open. He moved down the stairs into the darkened hallway. Following him through the labyrinth of passages, we reached the dungeons, but turned down a different row than I expected.
“Well, crap! Conditions have changed since I’ve been here,” I exclaimed with a huff.
The cells we passed were empty, but each contained a cot and a side table. A curtain hung from above to give the sink and toilets privacy. A far cry from the urine drenched hay in my former cell. These cells were for the upper-tier prisoners.
Torin paused, then twisted as though he were about to turn around, but he took a deep breath and pushed forward. Every sliver of emotion was locked up, his expression hard.
We came to the last cell, where a woman sat on the bed. Her legs were folded, a book in her hand, and an uneaten snack sat on the stool next to her bed.
“Snacks? Books?” I exclaimed. “Crap, this would have been a vacation for me.” I turned to Torin. “I want to submit a grievance concerning my stay here last time.”
Torin stopped in front of the cage, hands tightening into fists.
Thara lowered the book, showing no sign of surprise. Her violet eyes locked on Torin. Dressed in pocketless cotton pants and a T-shirt, her dirty brown hair hung limply down her arms. Her cheeks were sunken in from lack of food, the glint in her eyes gone, but somehow she still looked stunning.
“For the first few weeks, every time I heard footsteps coming along the path, I feared it was you. Then I longed for it to be you.” She set the book on the stool. “Now, I feel neither. I wish I’d felt that a long time ago.”
Torin flinched, but the reaction disappeared swiftly behind his façade. “I had nothing to say.”
“And you do now?” She leaned back against the wall, pulling a knee up and laying her arm on it.
“No.” Torin glanced down the row, away from her. “I do not know why I am here.”
“Then I cannot help you.”
“Oh my gods, you two.” I curled my hands in frustration, wanting to knock their heads together. Talk about stubborn to the point of causing their own misery. Kennedy told me she had been down here a lot, talking with Thara. It would be a long time before she could release Thara or ever forget the betrayal, but she had forgiven her. That was Kennedy, though. If I were in his shoes, I would probably be just as stubborn. It was easy to see something when you were outside and not in the center of it.
I waited for Torin to walk away, but he surprised me again, stepping closer to the bars, gripping them. “Why?” His voice was soft, a touch of agony winding through it.
Thara’s cheek twitched.
“Tell me. How could you do that? To me? To the Queen, who did nothing but treat you with kindness? How could honor mean so little to you?”
Thara’s head jerked up, her eyes firing with anger. “Honor?” She popped off the bed, her nose flaring. “Honor, respect…I lost those years ago.” She walked to the bars. “For myself.”
Torin dropped his hands, but held his ground, a snarl rising on his lips.
“I blame myself for that. I was blind. Hopeful. Hanging on to every speck of attention you gave me. A smile, a touch, a shared look… I clung to them. We shared everything. And still you turned to anyone other than me, and I did not feel worthy of your love. I was not enough.” She stated these as facts. “Am I ashamed for what I’ve done? Yes. I twisted into something I did not recognize, but now I see myself again. And I see her clearly now too. A true Queen. She is a gracious person.”
“Majesty has been here?” Torin rocked back on his heels.
“Many times,” Thara stated. “I understand she cannot let me go now, but her forgiveness means everything to me.”
Torin grunted, fidgeting with the bars. “I am not as good as her,” he snarled. “I cannot forgive you.”
“I did not expect you to.” She raised her chin. “But I no longer need you to.”
His brows furrowed.
“For too many years your opinion meant everything to me.” She stared at him without humiliation. “It is mine that matters now.”
Go girl.
Thara had formerly come across so self-confident and sure of herself, it was hard to think she had any weaknesses. As awful as her actions had been, they made her more real to me.
“Accepting what I’ve done and finding the person I want to be…” She licked her lips. “For once it has nothing to do with you. It took too long, but I am free of you. Finally.” She turned her back on him. “Go, Torin. There is nothing for you here.”
He stood there, his mouth locked tight, not moving. As though a hammer knocked him on the head, clearing his vision, a wave of emotion flooded our link. I gasped, taking a step back, his emotions drawing me in so sharply it was as if I was looking at her through his eyes.
Strength. Beauty...
So much beauty. His heart started to drum against his ribs, tightening his lungs. He didn’t realize how much his chest had ached without her. How off he felt when she wasn’t there. Little flashes of memory flickered through: her laughter, the times she sat next to him, or held him Aneira had abused him. Even without speaking a word, she knew what he was thinking.
Her smile.
Her mouth. Lips...
Holy shit. Torin’s thoughts wrapped around me. What the hell? His breathing picked up, fear slinking into his realization. No! I do not feel that. I only miss her. The girl I thought I knew. This girl is a traitor.
The feelings did not subside, and panic shot through him like adrenaline. His lids narrowed on Thara as he shook his head, blaming her for his feelings.
“You’re right. There’s nothing here for me.” He whipped toward the exit, marching down the tunnel. His boots stopped halfway down, looking back over his shoulder, as though she were a magnet, tugging him back.
Thara stood in the same spot, her head bowed slightly, but her stance was proud. Strong. She did not need him.
That’s what bothered him and made him view her in a new light.
I could feel Torin’s heart leap in his chest, his gaze moving over her, taking her in. Terror ballooned through him and, like the fog of the poison, immobilized him from letting him acknowledge what he’d probably known forever.
He turned back around, clenching his teeth and hands, and shunted all his emotion back. Still not understanding why he subconsciously pulled me in, he unknowingly shut down the link between us. I was tossed back to my reality with a crash.
The reality where the witches were good and the great Oz was a real bastard.
Chapter 12
Zoey
Goran led us to the dungeons, the smell of urine, vomit, and feces making me gag. It was creepy being here, but our guide freaked me out the most. I had met him in my prior dealings with Lars. Something was different about him now. Wrong.
Kennedy and Fionna walked in the middle, and I kept watch behind, my trained instincts twisted tight, ready to act. Sprig held on to the rim of the bag, playing with his tail, watching everything silently. The nervous energy bouncing around the group coiled tight like violin strings. All I could think of was Wyatt. My nerves were tied into knots with the unspoken belief Stavros would probably not keep the kids locked up with the others. Hope and doubt rolled like acid through my stomach.
Goran held up his hand, halting us as he peered slowly around the corner. It was eerily quiet and as much as I should have preferred that fact, I didn’t. It jumped up and down on my nerves and batted at them similar to a cat after a mouse.
Fionna gripped her knife, her teeth sawing into her bottom lip. By the way Fionna moved and held herself, I could tell she was highly trained in combat. She took in everything around her as I did. Assessed and calculated her response to it. She was sure of herself and used her fear to keep her on point. She was a good one to have by your side in a fig
ht. She could handle herself.
The Queen, on the other hand, might be strong in mind and backbone, but fighting was not her forte. Not like Fionna and me. Her words would be her fists.
“This way.” Goran slunk through a doorway to a long room filled with dark and dank cells, one after another until they disappeared into the shadows, goblin-iron bars caging half the room. Most of the cells held those who were once Lars’s guards. I gagged and covered my mouth and nose at the fetid odor of sweaty bodies, blood, and piss.
“Oh gods.” Kennedy dry-heaved, shaking her head. “These poor people.”
“You thought the dungeons were going to be a day at the spa?” Goran leveled his gaze at the Queen, his words and face empty of any reaction. Weren’t these his men? His friends?
“Goran?” A thick-accented voice came from down the row, stopping the air in my lungs.
I knew he was here. He was why we were coming, but the sound of his voice after so long squeezed my lungs.
My boots squeaked over the cobbles as I strode closer to the cell, spotting the familiar ginger-haired man leaning against the cement wall. His buffed sidekick stood right next to him as usual.
“Feck me arseways.” Garrett snorted, wagging his head back and forth, peering at me through narrowed eyes. “Look, Cadoc. My long-lost ‘sister’ has come to save me. Miss me, sis?”
“What?” Fionna jerked her head to me.
I shook my head back. “Thankfully, no actual blood links us. When he was hunting for Ryker and me after the disaster in Seattle, he took my picture around conveying a sob story that he was looking for his ‘sister,’ who disappeared in the storm, trying to find a lead on us.”
“Come closer and I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.” I twirled my knife in my hands. I was there when Lars took on Vadik’s lackeys years before. I was impressed Garrett and Cadoc were still with Lars.
“Wait…what?” Sprig squeaked from the bag. “Him? Banana toad farts. No. Way. I will not help that dingleberry. Nor that muscle for brains.” He pointed between Garrett and Cadoc.
“I see you still have your pet weasel.” Garrett pushed off the wall, strolling up to me.
“P-p-pet weasel?” the sprite sputtered.
“Sorry, I meant mole rat.” Garrett winked.
Hell.
“Dry up, carrot nuts!” Sprig climbed out of my bag. “I know some flesh-eating bunnies who would love to snack on you.”
“Think I already had them for super.” Garrett picked at his teeth. “Tasty.”
Sprig gasped, folding his arms. “I hope you drown slowly in boiling banana pudding.”
“Bananas are the best fruit, don’t you agree?” Garrett smirked. “Wish there were only bananas.”
“Whhhhhaaaatttttt?” Sprig’s mouth dropped open, his eyes wide in disbelief. “How…what…”
I sighed.
Garrett looked up, winking at me.
“We don’t have time for this.” Goran stepped beside me. “We need to release them and all get out of here.”
“I’m not helping Agent Orangenut.” Sprig waggled his finger at Garrett. “No. No way.”
“Please?” I rubbed his head.
“No. He almost killed us, Bhean.” He peered up at me. “How can you want him out?”
“We need him,” I grunted.
“I am no longer talking to you.” Sprig crawled back in the bag.
“What if I let you watch soap operas and eat honey all day?”
An eyeball appeared at the opening of my bag.
“Nice parenting skills, Zoey. Bribery?” Garrett folded his arms, curving his eyebrows.
“I’m close to agreeing with him and leaving you here. Better if you just shut it.” I lifted the flap of my bag, turning my attention to Sprig. “And we’ll go to Izel’s when we get home.”
Sprig came back out, still not looking happy. “Fine. But I want double the pancake order and churros.”
“Deal.”
He huffed and leaped onto the lock, sticking out his tongue in concentration as he worked.
Goran moved down the path to keep his guards from answering the cries from his old comrades wanting freedom. We came for Garrett and the kids. It was harsh, but we couldn’t take everyone today.
“Hmmm.” Sprig tipped his head.
“What?”
“This one is tricky…something feels jammed in here.” He closed one eye, examining the hole. “Oh wait…think I got it…” The lock clicked.
The moment Sprig cracked the lock, a machine cranked on, whirling wind through the vents.
“Oh. No.” Kennedy scanned the room, my gaze following hers. From a handful of vents, white clouds billowed out, expanding like a wildfire through the room.
Right away I could feel the heaviness of the air, dread tingling my toes.
“Shite! It’s goblin gas!” Fionna stumbled back, covering her mouth.
The gas moved quickly, feeling similar to shards of glass stabbing my skin, throat, and lungs with every breath or movement.
“Sprig!” I grabbed him, shoving him in my bag to protect him.
“Run!” Garrett shoved through the open cell door, Cadoc and him running for the exit. I plastered a hand over my mouth, I could still feel the gas seeping through, clouding my vision and dragging my legs with fatigue. Pain soon pierced my lungs and I closed my lids. My body was shutting down.
No, Zoey. Keep fighting.
But my body wouldn’t listen to my mind. The vapor coated me, digging into my skin like the bites of a thousand red ants.
Garrett, Kennedy, and Fionna dropped to the ground, their bodies squirming in agony. I staggered, reaching down to help Kennedy back to her feet, but my muscles gave out. With a cry, I crumpled next to the Queen.
Goran and Cadoc were the last to fall, but none of us could fight the attack. Darkness slithered in at the edges of my vision. Every breath felt the same as knives slicing through my chest, ripping my throat.
My lashes fluttered closed, sleep beckoning me into its arms. Like a faraway dream, I heard the fan shut off, followed by pounding of feet and the chilling cries of monsters.
Stavros had known we were coming. The cell was set to detonate when we unlocked it. He let us believe we were getting ahead, then ripped that hope away. He let us know who was in charge.
My last thought before I tipped over into the blackness: We were fools.
“Move it.” Rotting flesh and sludge whisked across my cheek—the breath from a strighoul behind me crinkled my nose. He shoved me forward, my feet struggling to keep up with his momentum. The goblin metal coating my skin caused my legs to wobble every few steps.
I scarcely drifted off before my body was violently shaken awake. The air vents pushed in clean air as the strighoul descended on us like the plague, unarming and apprehending us. The poison hung to our clothes, affecting us enough that it was a struggle to fight the lethargy.
I hoped Ryker’s group had better luck than us. Yet I knew it was wishful thinking. Stavros was not only prepared for us now but seemed several steps ahead.
The patchy-skinned creature shoved me toward a room, almost tripping me again. My thigh bumped the bag, feeling Sprig stir inside. Sub-fae didn’t have the same extreme reaction we did to goblin metal, but they also couldn’t fight it as we could. Not in doses like that. Their bodies were so much smaller to handle the onslaught of poison as they breathed in the slivers.
Please be all right. I looked at my bag. Please.
The strighoul herded us toward a room. A tiny wheeze came from next to me, and I glanced over to see Fionna, her jaw locked but her eyes wide.
“What?”
“Room.” She croaked and mumbled the word, flinching in pain, her eyes watering from discomfort. I also swallowed razor blades with every word.
“Should I be worried?”
Fionna gave me a look.
“Hell,” I muttered.
“Shut up!” The strighoul thrust me into the chamber, its nails digg
ing painfully into my skin.
“Zoey.”
No.
My heart swelled at the sound of his voice and then dropped into my stomach. Hope of his escape vanished like the vapor that had rendered us powerless. I wanted them to be safe, the ones who made it out.
I craned my neck to the side. “Ryker.” My eyes found him, my body wanting to run to him. He looked like hell. His skin was pale, he struggled to hold himself upright, and his face and arms were covered with dried blood. His axe was gone. Scanning the space, I spotted an unusually large strighoul wearing it on his back. Strighoul were usually lean, but this one was brute size and muscled.
Croygen, Rez, and Ember stood next to Ryker, also ragged and ashen, alleviated of their weapons. Ember’s face was the worst—bloody, black and blue. One eye swollen closed as though she had been punched.
“Goody. The whole fucked-up family is here.” Garrett exhaled, rolling his eyes, his voice raw.
Ryker’s gaze went to Garrett and Cadoc, a snarl vibrating the room.
“Ach. Good to see ya too, Ryker,” Garrett grumbled.
“Asshole and cock sucker. What’s up?” Croygen jerked his chin; he also sounded as if he had swallowed glass. “Or is it the other way around? Always get you guys confused.”
“Feck off, Croygen.” Garrett scowled.
“Oh, I do love reunions.” Croygen winked at them.
Ryker turned to me, ignoring them. “Furball?” he mouthed, the corner of his eyes lined with worry.
My gaze dropped to my bag and I shrugged, trying not to imagine the worst. I had no idea if he was all right. I hoped he was only sleeping.
Ember caught Kennedy’s eye, winking at her. “Together again, huh?”
Slowly, a grin played on the Queen’s lips, as though she were in on an inside joke.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kennedy said as if she were repeating a line from a script. Her vocal cords sounded as if they’d been through a cheese grater.
“How we doin’?”
“Same as always.”
“That bad, huh?” Ember smirked, her head shaking.
Rise From the Embers (Lightness Saga #4) Page 14
