Chapter 10
Ten
Bjorn
Bjorn watched the priestess as she worked on her map once again. She should’ve known it by heart now. She’d been in this cell with him for nearly five days, rotting away with the rest of them, and nothing had changed. The reality was that they were not getting out of here.
He had spent years figuring out the weakness in the wall that had given Ragnar and his people their escape. Bjorn knew without a doubt that that exit had been the only way to leave this place.
He knew the halls well. He was the only one who had been in here for this long.
Ten years was enough to remember this labyrinth by heart.
He’d played Astrid’s game for multiple nights now, pointing out flaws in her plans to leave and nudging her hand when she made the mistake of turning a hall in the wrong direction on her floor map. But none of it would help.
Even if they could get out of this cell, they wouldn’t be able to leave. There were too many guards. Too many chances for things to go wrong.
They were stuck here, just like he had always been. Nothing was going to change that.
“You can’t go in that direction,” Bjorn said, sitting on the cot and picking through the scraps they had been given for dinner. This was a rare opportunity for them to eat twice in two days.
She didn’t like the look or smell of it, so he tried his best to pick out what he could find that didn’t seem too mashed.
Tonight was harder though, and he was going to have to figure out a way to get her to eat.
She was already shaky. He’d noticed how she had to hold on to the walls when she was upright, and how pale her features got when she stood.
There was something wrong with her, and he suspected it was that she wasn’t eating enough.
He’d tried to make this place tolerable for her, but there was no comfort here. The cells were cold and damp. Her clothing had not been created for a place like this. Soon enough, she would beg him for release just like everyone else had done.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Killing any woman had always felt wrong, and especially so now that Ragnar had awakened something in him.
Bjorn wanted to take care of her. The memories that had been so buried were now screaming at him that no matter what he did, he had to keep her safe. That was his job. His duty.
His honor.
Picking out a half-eaten carrot, he whittled away at the end with a claw so she wouldn’t notice someone else had already bitten into it. “Not that way, either.”
Astrid blew out an angry breath and glared at him. “Are you going to be helpful?”
“I am being helpful.”
“You’re just pointing out flaws. If you have an opinion on the best way to get out of here, why not share it?”
He speared the carrot onto the tip of his claw and held it out for her. Good enough. If she wanted to be snippy, she could eat the damn thing with someone else’s teeth marks. “There is no good way to get out of here. We are trapped.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
Bjorn could see he’d made her angry. Her ears were bright red, and she wouldn’t even look at him, which he had come to learn meant that she didn’t want to deal with him at the moment. Which was fine. He didn’t need her attention all the time.
He just liked it. Maybe a little more than he should.
After years and years of being alone or handed women who only feared him or begged him for death, it was nice to be around someone who treated him like a person. Even annoyance, without immediately flinching as she waited for his fists, meant more to him than she knew.
Everyone was resting at this point, although none of them knew if it was nighttime outside.
He could hear it throughout the dungeon, even if she couldn’t.
The restful breathing. The quiet sounds of sadness that only happened during this time of their night.
This was when only a few were awake, and if they were awake, they were having a moment that needed no one else’s intervention.
And here his little captive was, making a map on the wall because she was so certain they would escape.
The sound of footsteps caught his attention. They were not from a guard. Those footsteps were always intentional and loud. Whoever was walking down the hall didn’t want anyone to know they were here.
Bjorn turned his head toward the window on the door, keeping his gaze on the small gap that would reveal who dared walk through the dungeon while all the warriors were sleeping.
A few other trolls were stirring, and he could hear them turning toward the sound as well.
Even Rabbit, who usually was asleep at this time of night.
Flickering light illuminated the corridor outside their cell.
Someone was walking with a torch, which was an even worse idea.
There were rounds made by plenty of guards this time of night.
They’d be caught if they weren’t supposed to be here.
Then the shadow of a person was revealed, wearing a cloak.
Astrid moved toward Bjorn, hovering by his side as she stared. So quietly it was hard for him to hear her, she whispered, “Who is that?”
The shadow stopped in front of their door, lifting the torch so it cast light into the room. His guts twisted. Were the guards coming for him, or for her? It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d been taken out of this cell in the middle of the night, but now he had her to worry about as well.
Bjorn stood, nudging her behind him so that whoever this person was wouldn’t see her. A low rumble started in his chest, the growl as impressive as it was terrifying. If he had to, he’d keep her right where she was. Guards or not. This cell was his domain.
Then a whispered, “Priestess?”
Astrid darted out from behind him before he could catch her. She ran to the door, wrapping her fingers around the bars and holding herself as close to the person as possible. “Lawrence?”
The hood was yanked back, revealing a young man with wide eyes. “He sent me. We have to go. Now.”
“How?”
“Put this on.” He handed a bundle through the doorway.
Bjorn watched as Astrid unraveled it, revealing yet another dress that was far too nice for a place like this. It was like molten silver, dripping down her arm and reflecting the torchlight like metal. But she didn’t question what the man told her. Instead, she held it out to Bjorn.
When he didn’t immediately take it, she hissed, “Hold this!”
He did, even though he was terrified his claws would scratch the pretty fabric and ruin it for good.
Bjorn turned his attention to the door while she stripped out of her clothing, glaring at the young man who likely would have otherwise watched her.
The clinking sound of her pearl dress hitting the ground tortured him, as well as the cool feeling of the dress slipping from his fingers.
The young man gulped before whispering, “Lord Tolly wished for me to tell you that he has not slept since you were traded away. He feels terrible for his part in your downfall, and simply could not stand to hear that you were still here with this beast. I am to bring you out of the labyrinth, and then it is his greatest wish that you slip away. We will tell the others that the Bull killed you.”
Bjorn would never do that. Not to her. But when his gaze slid back to her, seeing that molten silver dress caressing her curves, he knew that he’d let her go. She didn’t belong in a place like this. And if they had to lie and say that he had killed her, then that was what he would do.
One more death on his shoulders wouldn’t surprise anyone. They were all shocked she’d lasted this long.
“It’s so good of my lord to help me. He is truly an honorable man,” she said.
He almost saw red. Honorable? The man had sold her into this life! There was no honor in him. It stung that she would even think of saying such a thing. Especially not to the man here to save her.
Unlike Bjorn. Who couldn’t get her out of here, no matter what plan he might come up with.
He took a step back as the sound of keys rattling came from the other side of the door.
This man had keys to get her out. This Lawrence could walk her right out of the labyrinth, and then she would live.
There were other ways to find her sister.
He was certain. She didn’t actually need Bjorn.
At this point, he was only holding her back.
Resolving himself to being a mere moment in her life that she would likely forget in the months to come, he stepped even farther away from the door so the man wouldn’t be nervous to open it.
The door swung open, and Astrid stepped out.
She looked like a goddess in this light, her dress reflecting warm tones while the rest of her was icy.
She was the only person he’d ever seen who looked like that.
Truly, it was a holy experience to look upon her.
Bjorn committed her to memory as she grabbed the face covering that the man held out to her.
The fabric was little more than a veil with a metal circle attached to it, but she settled it on her head and suddenly it was a crown with a silken sheet that only she could see out of.
“Thank you, Lawrence,” she said, her voice almost simpering. “You are brave to have trusted him.”
And then she punched the young man square in the face. He went down like a rock. Standing one moment, and then falling over the next. His body hit the floor with a heavy thud that echoed down the corridor, and then she reached back inside the cell.
Astrid held her hand out for him to take. “Come with me.”
He wasn’t sure what was happening.
“Bjorn,” she said, and his name jolted through him like an electric shock. “This is our only chance. I need you to get my sister back.”
Her sister. Of course, this was about her sister. For a moment he’d thought that maybe she just wanted him to come with her because she would miss him. That all of his care and effort had proven he wasn’t the monster that this place had made him.