Above the Ashen Clouds (Twisted Worlds #2)

29. Zariel

Chapter twenty-nine

Zariel

I opened my eyes to darkness. Darkness, screams, moans of despair, and the rank scent of decay. After only a few breaths I couldn’t tell which was worse—the sounds, or the pained hollowness that occurred when they stopped. My head pounded, jolting through my body with each heartbeat. My head was sore where something had hit me—bastards probably knocked me unconscious. It wasn’t Cael. He could be a brute when we sparred, but he didn’t have it in him to actually hurt me. Not unless he had no other choice …

Where was I?

Where was Cat?

Cat? She wasn’t in the mountain. My rune told me that much .

I sat upright, and instantly returned to the stone ground. My cry joined those of the other prisoners. Fuck, my head hurt. Breathe. I needed to breathe. Let the pain fade.

Slowly my vision adjusted, and I could make out a dim light from the small gaps in the door that opened to the hall. The solid stone walls surrounded me, and the glow from the ash that could normally be depended on above ground was barely noticeable here. Above ground had the beauty of winter—here it was just cold. I shivered from something else entirely when I finished looking around the room. The prison’s signature saw was chained to the corner, a gift to a prisoner who would hack off a wing or limb to be free.

I really was in the prison, under the mountain. Why? Why was I here ? What did I do?

I attacked when they took Cat away, yes, but any angel would have done the same. It was one reason why our laws took such pains to make sure mates could stay together, if they wished, especially during the early years when emotions governed all. Many angels would have done the same thing. Many would’ve done much worse.

Groaning, I rubbed my eyes. There was no point in yelling for help, or trying to get out. I had lived and labored in this mountain for years. Escape was impossible.

“Well, took you long enough to wake,” Gadriel said. I rolled over to find his sickening smug face pressed against the narrow row of bars. How long had he been standing there, waiting to see me discover him? Did he watch me wake and fall? How was he involved in Cat being taken from me?

“What do you want?” I asked, rubbing my head and sitting up. It would do no good to show him how I really felt—furious and desperate to get back to Cat. Was that why I was here, because the High Artist knew I’d go after her?

Gadriel crossed his arms and leaned against the bars. “You know, you probably would’ve been left alone, with your little human, if you weren’t so damn nosy and oblivious at the same time. The High Artist was curious to see what would happen with the human, and if she could be of any use to us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you really think that no one would notice one of the rooks missing?”

Oh. That .

When I didn’t answer, Gadriel continued, “Now, what we can’t figure out is exactly who you sent a message to, and why. Who are you bringing into our affairs, little traitor?”

“Traitor?”

“What else should I call you? You’re the one who decided to try to interfere with the High Artist’s plan to take us home. And since this mountain is all that remains of our world, he is the king.”

“And you want him to become a god?”

Far from being stunned, Gadriel’s lips curled. “So you did figure that part of the plan out. How much does your human know, hmm? ”

“She doesn’t understand our magic,” I said. “I tried. She’s my mate, but she doesn’t understand such things. She’s only a human.” A pang went through me at insulting Cat, but the last thing I needed to admit was that she knew the High Artist’s plan nearly as well as I did. She needed to get home and tell someone what was occurring, but would she? Maybe the humans would help us stop the High Artist. Maybe there was a way they could—

“You’re an awful liar, Zariel,” Gadriel said. “Lucky for your mate, the High Artist decided that she’d cause more problems for us with the humans if she never went back than if she told stories of an angel becoming a god. No one is going to believe her.” He chuckled grimly. “I’m sure she saw your runes—that’s going to sound crazy enough. Angels, with burning skin? If she starts talking about an angel becoming a god, then they’re going to assume the ash did something to her and that will be that.” At least he confirmed they didn’t know about Cat’s magic. One small mercy.

There was something else going on. Confident people typically didn’t waste their time toying with their captives, explaining their reasoning. Sure, some gloating was expected, but this was beyond that. It was like I was a splinter he couldn’t leave alone. Was he trying to convince me, or himself?

“If you’re so confident that this plan is going to work,” I asked, “and that the High Artist will take us home, then why are you concerned with what the humans think? We’ll be gone before they know what’s going to happen.”

“Insurance,” Gadriel said. “This spell hasn’t been attempted in thousands of years. Last thing we want is a missing or dead human if we need their goodwill.” While I was very curious about how, exactly, it had been attempted, I wasn’t about to ask Gadriel. I was more curious about the last time it succeeded.

I closed my eyes. Bittersweet relief flooded me—Cat was safe and going home. I couldn’t be with her, but at least she was far from here. She wouldn’t be harmed, as long as the ritual didn’t do something … unexpected.

“Do I dare ask why I’m in here?” I asked. “I’m assuming it’s to keep me from following her.”

“Oh, yes. That’s part of it. Do you like your accommodations?”

“The finest prison I’ve ever been in.”

“Luckily for you, it will be the only one. See, that spell needs certain sacrifices, if you remember. And it turns out that an angel would fit that role perfectly.”

My stomach twisted. Ah. Well, that was somehow both expected—and not.

“The other Artists will never accept you murdering me without being properly judged and sentenced,” I said. “I’ve done nothing.” There were other angels in the prison, yes, but I wasn’t about to remind him of that .

“Incorrect.” Gadriel was practically giggling. “After we informed your mate that she had to leave, you tried to kill the High Artist. Our guards barely stopped you in time. A shame, really, that you were unable to control your temper. It seems to be inherent in your family.”

The blood drained from my face. Aniela. They were going to do to me what they did to Aniela—but worse. What actually happened to her? Why did the High Artist remove her, send her here? Why did she admit she was guilty? Just how deep did his treachery go, and for how long? He was my father’s friend— why was he doing this to us?

“I think I’ll leave you for now,” Gadriel said. He clapped, not bothering to restrain his glee. “I’m not sure how much time you have left, but it’s best that the time be spent in silence, don’t you agree? Time while you can think exactly about how you ended up here.”