Chapter 34
J A N E
A few days have slipped by, to which I haven’t left this room.
Do they plan to leave me here until it’s time to do whatever the fuck they’re going to do with me? I need access to that area below the castle. One way or another, I have to free the sirens from there . I still don’t know why Melona once told me that for the siren’s sunder, I could never visit Skull’s Row. Or how that debt has been paid, but those obligations seem like they belong to another lifetime.
It’s bizarre to consider how they once ruled my life.
It’s on the third day since seeing the sirens that I hear the unlocking of the bolts on the door and not just the small flap where food slides under—the ‘ privilege’ of seeing Marissa revoked. I freeze when a disheveled Anya is chucked into my room, bound at the wrists, her reeking stench filling the space. I don’t move. This feels so much like a trap that I don’t even trust my distrust.
Jesper reveals himself from behind her, a smirk hidden under the shadow of his face. “Thought you could use the company.”
Just as fast as she’s tossed in here, Jesper shuts the door again. Anya and I both stare at each other in claustrophobic silence. Her hair is no longer slicked back—it reaches her nose, unkempt and dirty. The swelling in her eye is gone and replaced by horrible shades of blue and purple, her bruise blooming like a flower of pain. Dried blood seems to be matted in her short hair and neck, her body covered in grime.
When nothing happens to either of us, I feel somewhat safe to quietly state, “This is obviously a trap, right?”
“He’s not very subtle.”
The corner of my mouth crooks up, missing even her . “Should I heal you?” I ask, trying to sound as sincere as possible, taking a step near her. “Or is that what they want?”
“Just take care of the wound on my ankle.” She hobbles to re-position herself, moving her ankle forward. “It’s festering.”
I examine the wound, which looks like a classic case of a rope, or even chains, digging too deeply into her skin, the surrounding flesh red and swollen. I fetch water from my pail and fill a cloth with it, indicating that she should sit on the bed—I don’t care if she gets it dirty. She could probably use the moral support of sitting on something soft , as I doubt wherever she’s at is comfortable. We don’t speak as I kneel and look at what must have been a minor wound, but constant irritation has turned it into nasty trauma. I blot at it with clean water and clasp my fingers around it, eyeing my tattoos as they glow, ignoring how she smells; my mother would scold me if I let the state of someone get in the way of my duty.
Duty . I’m a healer who doesn’t even know her goddess’s name. I don’t know the right words, either. Please, goddess of healing, heal my friend. The world is sick with Misery. I need help. I need to heal.
As I channel healing energy into her, I’m not sure if that made a difference or not.
“They have to be listening,” Anya mutters. I glance up at her, and she leans down slightly—the poor thing looks like she’s been in a fight with a molgrin. With cracked lips, she mouths, “ Do. You. Have. A. Plan ?”
My gaze drops back down to release my grip and take a peek at her ankle. I shrug. “Direction. Not a plan.”
Anya leans down in my ear, and I feel terrible for wanting to hold my breath. “Make it happen faster .”
“I’m sorry,” I say, letting go of her ankle, not having realized just how much she was relying on me. “I can’t say more. Are you okay? What have they done to you? Where do they keep you?”
“I’ll endure. Don’t apologize to me. Fuck these people.” She repositions so she’s right up on my ear, so close I can see the individual strands of hair on the side of her head. “I know Soren will come. I’ll be the first one they’ll kill when he does. Don’t think twice about me.”
“Don’t think that way,” I say before hearing what I’m saying.
Of course she’ll be the first one to go.
“Don’t be na?ve,” she sighs in my ear. Anya looks at me, close to my face. “I won’t apologize for being difficult, Jane. It’s my job to take care of Soren. And that’s what I’m doing now by ensuring you get back to him. He’ll be able to tell we’re in the castle, okay?”
“Just, become another person and flee . Kill whoever. Get out of here.”
She smiles, then coughs, and I go to get her some water to drink. I fill a cup and bring it to her like Soren did to me, but I take more care with the offering. When it dribbles down her chin and neck, Anya gulping like she’s been stranded at sea, she adds, “I’m not giving up, Jane, but I’m not stupid. I’m ready to die if I need to.”
My stomach knots as if a tourniquet binds it. “I’ll find something.” That’s all I can offer as a reassurance. It’s all I tell anyone else, which means at some point, it’s empty air.
How can I tell her that I found the sirens, just like Cypress wanted? I know someone is listening. If I mention that to her, then they’ll ensure I never get to go back down there again.
She motions for me to come close again, and she speaks in my ear, “Get the sirens out first.”
It’s the first time I lean closer to her, as if she read my mind. “ What ?”
“I can hear them. I’m not far from their cells. Tempest’s daughter is among them. Set Moriganna free, and then Tempest will come. Once she’s seen that Blackwell branded her daughter, Tempest will bring an entire armada.”
Holy shit. “Her daughter ?”
“Tempest is the queen of the ocean for a reason. Her daughter is a princess of sirens. And they have her right now. She’s the key.”
People will come… I nod, amazed at those details, gooseflesh rising on my arms. “You’re fucking brilliant.”
She laughs, the sound of humor befitting and out of character, all at once.
Anya pulls back, looking over me with sad eyes. There’s something about the state of her, and knowing our days are numbered, that makes me terrified for her. “Can I ask why you owe Soren?”
Hopefully, the answer is something prying ears can hear.
She presses her lips together as she sighs, and then nods. “Don’t care if they listen in on this… Soren and I were both in Death’s Wing. My specialty is, well, you know what it is. I was, and am, exceptional at utilizing this talent, which is how I got in. We were in the same brigade, and he got to know me that way.
“I then took on a lover, once. She was the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she says through a genuine smile, her usual stoicism completely unbound as emotion floods her eyes. “Amy was killed through a cycle of revenge. She looked exactly like a woman that had poisoned a very important man… so they killed her.” Anya’s lower lip trembles before she presses them together, sniffing, looking down at her fingers. “I became addicted to white poppy when all I wanted was to sleep. Then it all spiraled. I took so much that I was confident I wouldn’t feel the water in my lungs, and dove off Dead Man’s Cliffs. Soren, given how he can feel us all out… felt my intentions and waited at the bottom, probably mumbling under his breath that I was wasting his time while he waited on me,” she says, letting out a weak laugh, still not looking me in the eyes, her hands trembling.
Something in my mind connects that this reminds me of a deathbed confession. “He found me in the waters through his powers and pulled me out. Took a week for my body to heal, and he even sat on me as my body overcame the sickness of recovering from that poison, holding me down so I wouldn’t seek out the poppy. He told me that I wasn’t allowed to die until I killed the man that killed Amy. Then I could make my decision on whether I died or not.”
Her gaze finally connects with mine, and she’s so entirely human in her expression. “I killed him, of course. The man who took my Amy. I came to him wearing the face of his concubine. He liked to have space and quiet, so no one bothered us for hours . I tortured him for so long. My emptiness remained, but it became different. Less painful. Quieter, maybe.” She looks off, still messing with her fingers. “I appreciate that Soren gifted me the return of my clarity. If I die, I don’t think I’d mind it. Not now. Not with my dignity in my hands.” She slowly moves her gaze back to me. “I admit I see in you what he sees. If he’s ever to love, it will have to be with someone as unique as you. I had it once… so this is my payment back to him—that he may find you and have your love for however long the fates allow it. It’s… well, there’s more to why I came, but…” Her eyes bore into mine as if to tell me not to ask her further.
I nearly hug her, but that might frighten her if I do. “This can’t be worth that,” I say, feeling as if I’ve interrupted something incredibly important, not realizing there are tears in my eyes. “I don’t even know his mother’s name.”
Her laugh spreads across her face, tears welling in her dark eyes as well. “Oh, whatever. You two are annoyingly good for each other. You mean so much to him already… it’ll grow. I know it.” She digs into her pocket with shaking fingers, and pulls out a necklace, barely managing to hand it to me. “It’s Amy’s,” she mutters softly, almost not audible. She looks me in the eyes, gesturing to me. “It’s important to me that someone keeps it,” she says, and I know if someone has their ear to the door, they wouldn’t be able to hear that.
My frown overtakes my face, a single tear falling down my cheek as I glare at her like she’s physically hurt me. “You’re not dying, you idiot.”
“I may very well be, Jane. There’s Blackwell, Jesper, and a fucking God of Misery. I’m useless to all of them,” she says, her breathing quickening. “I need to know someone has my last words,” she says, looking at the necklace, as if hinting hard that she means this . It’s the first time I’ve ever seen real, deep-seated fear in her eyes.
I clasp the pendant in my hand; it is a circle with the silhouette of a bird inside. I nod, not knowing what to say to keep this private between us.
“It’s a wren,” she says, almost like she’s doling out her goods after being told she has a few days left to live. “Her favorite bird. I had it made after she was killed, and I’ve worn it every day.”
I clasp it in my hand, my gaze darting around but focusing on nothing in particular. I raise a hand to place it on her knee, before looking up at her. “I don’t know why they let you in here, but if something happens to you, I’ll help take care of that personally .”
Her grin is faint. “Good,” she says, sniffing again. “I believe you.” She lowers down into my ear again. “Do whatever you need to do, do you hear me? I want these cunts dead ?—”
The door opens, and Jesper struts in, dragging Anya away. Neither of us says a word as she looks at me before she’s pulled down the stairs. Jesper sighs as if he literally has no choice in the matter. “So, Jane… you say you don’t care, but you seem to be quite affected.” He comes over and even touches the tear on my face. “Poor girl. You both had such a good talk. I can’t wait to tell this Soren about how good I’m taking care of you.”
I don’t move. I want to know what they fucking have planned with this.
“You’ve been good this whole time, I admit. Keep it up, do you hear? If you do, I’ll grant more moments like this for you. Misbehave , however, and we’ll let as many men rape your friend while you watch. You’ll have to clean her up and heal her between each session. It’s a fate that can easily be avoided if you just listen to us, do you understand?”
I breathe heavier, staring at the linens that now have a little blood on them from Anya. The calamity of her life, used against me, can keep her alive. “Yes.”
“That’s all I wanted to say,” he sweetly says, as if visiting me on pleasant terms.“I’m a little used to Morvock reading hearts for me, so it’s because of your little trick with the neck that we have to be like this. I need to ensure I’m meeting the real you, not a facade.”
He doesn’t trust me. At all. But the real me would act out and be a pain in the ass, which seems like he’ll just use as an opportunity to be violent with me. To lock me down further.
I need Jesper’s trust. I need it to get back to the veins of this castle, not be caged even more.
When he leaves, it’s the first time I truly cry since being here; the tears from a few days ago were more like stress relief. But now? The way it feels in my chest between each sob is like purging my body of all dread and fear. All while thumbing the necklace, staring at the bird.
I’m so pissed off they’re using us like this.The wailing morphs into angry grunts. Maybe this is what Jesper needs to hear—that he has power over me. At least, let him think he does. In that, I don’t hold a single tear back, so maybe someone can report to him that I’m torn up. Make him feel like he succeeded.
I’ll free those damn sirens.
I will .