Chapter 11 Lessia
Lessia
The storm hadn’t let up one bit, and they were all drenched by the time they reached the building housing the prisoners. Still, Lessia didn’t know why Iviry and her sister rushed their final steps.
It wasn’t like the crumbling stone building’s broken roof would provide much protection against the heavy rainfall, and the withering walls, where rotten planks covered the largest holes, didn’t do anything against the howling wind.
Lessia held on to Merrick as she followed Iviry, Frelina, Loche, and Raine across the threshold, trying not to let her mind replay her own memories of being locked up when the familiar sound of low groans and rattling chains reached her ears over the water smattering against stone.
Squeezing her hand back, Merrick shot her a look, and she could tell from the way his eyes darkened that he was contemplating dragging her right back out again.
But as she forced her lips into a tired smile, he gave her a nod, although she could tell the muscle in his jaw was working harder than it usually did.
Fighting to keep her smile, she turned to Kerym, Pellie, and Soria, who walked silently behind them, and there was something akin to worry casting shadows across the witch sisters’ faces when they stared from Lessia to the dark passage behind her.
“We’ll get them to see our side,” Lessia said when Pellie stepped closer to Kerym.
No one responded, but she wasn’t surprised.
Her words did sound hollow, and it was true some of her conviction had faded after seeing the humans and Fae interacting with each other—after learning that the only way they’d even consider collaborating was through some ancient mating ceremony that would tie together Loche and Iviry, and as a result their people.
Her eyes drifted to the dark-haired regent and the proud Fae leader walking beside him as they headed toward the stairs leading to the cellars, the latter keeping her distance as if Loche carried a contagious disease.
Iviry’s head was forced forward and turned toward Lessia’s sister only when she mumbled something as she grabbed a lantern flickering on the wall.
Lessia had been happy when they realized Loche was Iviry’s mate—had remembered Loche’s words of wanting to find someone to love before the end. But whatever was happening between them was the opposite of what had happened when she found out Merrick was the one who called to her soul.
Lessia chewed on her cheek. She couldn’t help but feel that her presence probably didn’t help. She’d seen the looks Iviry had thrown her—had felt Iviry’s eyes burn across her skin as Loche carried her to the couch.
Maybe it wasn’t necessary just for her and Merrick’s sake that they left for Vastala.
Perhaps the two leaders of Havlands needed it as well.
Merrick, perceptive as always, tugged at her hand until her body brushed his hard one. “We’ll leave as soon as this is done. There is no point in waiting, and Raine and Frelina can handle whatever comes before the war.”
Lessia’s eyes fell into his, and her smile came easier when Merrick bent down to kiss her lips, then moved to whisper, “You’re so strong, you know that, right?” in her ear before he let her descend the stairs first.
She could feel his pride layering over her as her eyes got used to the darkness.
It seemed to swallow the people before her with every additional step she took, and maybe a small part of the warm sensation belonged to her because that darkness—the sounds of metal and water and despair—didn’t make her fall into a heap of panic anymore.
On the contrary, Lessia’s conviction that no person deserved to be down here—well, at least not those who’d fought for freedom for their people, believing what they were doing was right—grew stronger with each suffocating second in the shadows.
The others had halted just beneath the stairs, and when Lessia lifted her eyes from her feet—making sure the decaying steps didn’t trip her—Loche watched her cautiously. She shot him a nod, letting him know that this wasn’t too much.
Iviry’s blue gaze followed. Lessia tried to soften her eyes when Iviry’s locked with them, glad that Merrick picked up on the same thing as he kissed the top of her head before he moved to let Kerym and the sisters down.
A second passed before Iviry ripped her stare away, and Lessia felt that urge to give the leader some space again when something sad, something she’d never seen, tightened the Fae’s features before she cleared her throat.
“Prisoners, we’ve come to talk to all of you—to give you the choice to join us.” Iviry shot Loche a look, gesturing for him to take the lead.
As the regent stepped forward, Iviry gave Frelina a small smile and waved her hand. Without missing a beat, Lessia’s sister and Raine started walking down the passage, lighting the many lanterns hanging outside the cells, revealing just how bad this dungeon was.
Lessia fought the chill wanting to pull her shoulders to her ears.
To the right of her were two large cells.
One was filled with rebels, all chained together, the shifters and humans and half-Fae so pale she could see their outlines even before the light spilled onto them.
Their lips, with their blue hue, reminded her of an early summer sky.
Beside the rebel cell were the Fae who had gone against Iviry. There were only a dozen of them compared to the couple of hundred or so rebels remaining, their chained-up rows going so far back into the giant cell that Lessia counted ten lines of them and couldn’t see any farther.
And on the opposite side…
The Oakgards’ Fae weren’t as pale, their tan skin still shimmering in the light, but there was something even more frightening in their faces.
Pure defiance made their eyes gleam, and there was no hesitation when they met Lessia’s gaze; their lips drew back to bare their teeth as whispers of “Rantzier” rose from the crowd.
Merrick snarled in warning when one of them strolled up to the bars and spat on the ground before her, but as he took a step toward the male, Lessia shook her head, placing a hand on his arm to hold him back.
She took her time to study the Oakgards’ Fae, surveying their more rounded ears—the ones that all these Fae had in common—the brown or raven hair that most of them sported, and the beautiful green and brown eyes that narrowed on hers when she stared at them.
They were Fae, but… also not.
At least not in the way the Vastala Fae were.
There was an otherness to them—but not one that made her wary. No, like when she’d found out about witches growing up, eagerness whispered over her skin, wanting to understand how the ones who shared ancestors had become so different.
“You like what you see, princess?” the male gloated when her eyes found his again. “Your mate over there not satisfying you? I could do it, you know, I—”
She didn’t have time to stop Merrick from driving a fist into the male’s face. It flew back, and several of the other Fae stormed forward, crowding against the bars as they hissed at her mate. Her mate, who only grinned his lethal smile as he licked his lips, eyes challenging anyone else to speak.
Bunching a fistful of his tunic in her hand, Lessia spun Merrick toward her, prepared to rage at him.
But as she shot a stare around, she didn’t miss both Raine and Loche choking down laughter, so she began with throwing each of them a murderous glare before hissing “That’s not going to help our case” to Merrick as he glowered at the Fae whose eye was already turning black.
When Loche snickered louder, her brows flew up in warning, and he finally locked down the stupid grin, even if his shoulders still weren’t as straight as they usually were.
Giving Frelina, who’d shoved Raine until his face was his usual grumpy one, a quick smile, Lessia stepped back, allowing Loche space.
He stepped between the three large cells, first facing the Oakgards’ Fae, then the rebels, and finally the Vastala Fae, and she had to admire the respect the human regent managed to instill as all fell silent.
Loche remained quiet for another moment as he waved Iviry to his side. When she joined him, the light spilling onto the two leaders making them seem slightly otherworldly—regal and frightening and beautiful all mixed together—he finally spoke.
“Iviry, leader of Vastala, is right. We have come to talk to you. We want to heal Havlands—make it one nation where all our people can live free.” His eyes sliced back to the foreign Fae. “That includes you and your people. We will not turn you away.”
The Fae Merrick had struck cackled—a manic, wild cackle.
“As if anyone would believe you! We didn’t trust Rioner—the dumb bastard thought we were on the same side, but we would have killed his people all the same—and we definitely do not trust…
What are you, a human? A shifter? I’ve heard different things, Loche Lejonskold. ”
A woman’s voice interrupted Loche, whose face hardened. “He’s a shifter without powers. Completely useless.”
It wasn’t only Lessia who spun around to glare at the rebel leader in the second row. Meyah’s head peeked over the seated rebels in the line before her as the chains weighing her down clattered at her wrists.
“He’s keeping his own mother down here. Don’t be fooled that he’ll let you go,” Meyah continued, her gray eyes glittering as they met Lessia’s. “He only wants power. Like the rest of them.”
“Do you want me to kill her?” Merrick offered as Loche, to his credit, only rolled his eyes. “Might be helpful to give the others a chance to listen.”
“No. If Loche doesn’t want to do it, she is mine,” Raine snarled.
Lessia wasn’t prepared for the fury in his hazel eyes as they brushed by hers, but as she saw them land on Frelina—whom Meyah had taken from them and delivered straight to her uncle—the glacial rage simmering in the green and gold wasn’t too difficult to understand.