39. Chapter Thirty Nine #2
Agony spiked through me, real and distant at the same time. It was worse than I imagined. I forced the vision to stop—pulled myself back, like slamming a door shut. I gasped, staggering against the corridor wall, my lungs sucking at air that felt too thin.
“Eva?” Felix’s voice reached me first.
“Drake’s here,” I managed, my voice raw. “And… Avod is with him.”
Fen’s head snapped up. “What?” Her voice was more urgent than her usual cool tone.
I met her eyes. “They have him too.”
Her jaw tightened so hard I thought she might crack a tooth. “Since when? You didn’t see him before?—”
“No, this was different. I saw them both. Through Drake’s eyes.”
Felix stepped closer. “Where?”
I closed my eyes, trying to steady the images that still flickered behind my eyelids.
“It’s the same place they brought me… before the dungeon.
I don’t know exactly where—the chamber with the metal wall—the hooks, the drains.
I remember the smell. Rust. Blood. Wards.
” I opened my eyes again. “They’re in that same hellhole. ”
Fen looked like someone had punched her. Her fists clenched at her sides, shaking.
“He’s chained to the wall,” I added quietly. “Bleeding. Conscious, but barely. And Avod—he looked… worse.”
Fen turned away sharply, pacing a few steps as if she had to move the feeling through her body physically, or it might break her.
“Godsdammit, Avod,” she muttered, voice cracking with fury and something deeper. “You stupid, stubborn bastard.” Then, louder, to all of us: “We need to move. Now.”
I lingered for half a heartbeat, still seeing the echo of chains. The way Drake had whispered my name through bloodied lips. We were running out of time. Drake had run right into Vyper’s trap.
I nodded, forcing myself to focus. Just a little longer, love. I thought, sending the words out into the void, hoping he’d somehow hear them.
“Let’s go,” I said, squaring my shoulders and motioning toward the staircase. My heart pounded in my chest, a steady drumbeat of determination.
The metallic scent of blood mixed with the damp, musty aroma of aged stone as we crept toward the winding stairwell that descended into the depths of the tower.
Each step downward amplified the clinking of chains, a sinister symphony accompanied by low, guttural moans that reverberated off the cold walls.
The sounds were enough to make the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I was lucky the wards weren’t as strong in the dungeon.
My Rift had still answered me there—sluggish, but present.
Now, the closer we got to the Pit, the more I felt them clamp down like a vice.
Smothering. Cold. Whatever power I had left, it wasn’t coming through.
This time, we’d have to rely on muscle, steel, and sheer will.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, the full horror of the Pit revealed itself.
A massive cavern yawned before us, its vast expanse swallowing the flickering orange light from torches mounted unevenly along the walls.
Shadows danced across the space, highlighting the iron cages crudely affixed to the stone.
The cages were haphazard and rusted, their bars bent in some places, but they were effective in their grim purpose.
The air was thick with despair, each breath laced with the faint stench of decay.
The Riftborn were everywhere, crammed into cages too small to stand in, their pale, emaciated forms contorted in unnatural angles.
Some were barely more than skeletons, their wrists, and ankles rubbed raw from the harsh iron manacles that bound them. The deeper I looked, the worse it got.
Some of them lay slumped against the bars, their eyes half-closed, shallow breaths rattling in their chests.
Their skin was translucent in the torchlight, veins visible like a map of suffering beneath the surface.
Others sat with their knees drawn to their chests, their hollow eyes glaring defiantly at the guards pacing lazily around the cavern.
At the center of the massive cavern loomed an altar, a grotesque and blasphemous construct. Hewn from black stone veined with red, it seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive.
Jagged, uneven edges rose in spikes; each tip stained a dark, coppery brown—evidence of the countless sacrifices it had borne.
Runes carved deep into its surface glowed faintly, pulsating with a sickly green light that cast eerie, flickering shadows across the walls of the pit.
The air around it was thick, as though the altar itself consumed the oxygen, feeding on the despair that permeated the chamber.
This was no mere altar; it was a throne for cruelty, a stage for corruption.
Here, the Riftborn souls had been torn from their bodies, their essence twisted and forced into the monstrous forms of Vyrmin in the name of Azh’raim.
It wasn’t just a place of sacrifice—it was a crucible of transformation, where innocence was destroyed and darkness was born.
Looking upon it, one could feel the weight of the countless lives that had been destroyed here, their cries of anguish echoing faintly in the oppressive air. The altar stood as a reminder of Vyper’s unyielding grip on power, his mastery of manipulation, and the depths of his depravity.
I clenched my fists as I took it all in, my stomach twisting violently.
It was worse than I could have ever imagined.
These weren’t just prisoners—they were survivors of relentless torment.
The guards seemed to delight in their misery, their sharp laughter cutting through the moans as they casually prodded the cages with jagged spears or tossed scraps of moldy bread onto the filthy ground.
“We have to move fast,” Fen whispered, her voice sharp but quiet. She was crouched beside me, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of an opening. Even she, fierce and resolute, couldn’t hide the flicker of disgust that crossed her face.
A grim tension replaced Felix’s usually calm demeanor. He muttered a quiet prayer under his breath. “There are so many of them,” he murmured, the weight of it sinking in.
My heart pounded as I forced my gaze to the nearest cage, where a young Riftborn girl stared back at me, no more than 10 years old, her luminous eyes wide with fear and hope.
Something inside me cracked, and I knew we couldn’t falter.
“We get them out,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside me. “All of them. No one gets left behind.”
Fen nodded, her lips pressed into a hard line. “And the guards?”
I tightened my grip on the dagger in my hand. “I can handle one of them,” I said, determination hardening my voice.
Fen smirked. “Good. Felix and I will take the others. Once the guards are down, we free as many as we can.”
I nodded, steeling myself. The image of Drake flashed through my mind again, fueling the fire burning inside me. I would save him, but first, I had to do this. For the Riftborn. For all of us.
We moved as one, slipping from the shadows and spreading out across the cavern. My target was a hulking Vyrmin near one of the cages; its jagged teeth bared as it snarled at the prisoners inside. I crept closer, my pulse pounding in my ears, until I was just a step behind it.
I struck swiftly, plunging my dagger into the base of its neck. The creature let out a choked growl, its movements frantic as it clawed at the blade, but I held firm, driving it deeper until it collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
Across the cavern, Fen’s gem-encrusted daggers danced through the air—not with magic, but pure skill. No spectral serpents this time. Just steel, speed, and precision. She hurled a blade at a charging Vyrmin and missed by inches.
“Godsdamned wards!” she snarled, already reaching for another.
To my left, Felix was a blur of motion, his strikes quick and calculated. He spun low, sweeping the legs out from under a Vyrmin before driving his blade into its chest with a force that echoed through the chamber. The creature let out one last rasping breath before falling still.
The fourth guard, realizing its comrades were lost, turned to flee, its spindly legs carrying it toward the shadows.
But it didn’t get far. Fen’s daggers shimmered in the torchlight as they shot forward, their glowing tips finding the base of its neck.
The guard crumpled to the ground, lifeless, before it could take two complete steps.
The cavern fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the soft, desperate murmurs of the imprisoned Riftborn.
The weight of their collective suffering pressed down on me like a physical force.
I exhaled a shaky breath, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins as I wiped the blood from my blade on a scrap of cloth I’d torn from a fallen guard.
I stepped to the first cage, the heavy iron keys I’d taken earlier jangling in my trembling hands.
Each turn of the key felt slower than the last, the weight of the prisoners’ gazes bearing down on me.
When the lock finally gave way, the door creaked open, and the Riftborn inside shuffled forward hesitantly.
Their gaunt faces and hollow eyes told stories of unimaginable torment.
“Go,” I whispered, my voice low but firm. “Stay quiet and move toward the stairs. Stick together. We’ll cover you.”
The prisoners began to file out, their movements cautious but determined.
One green-skinned woman, her wrists raw and bloodied from the chains, paused to clutch my hand.
Her fingers were ice-cold, her grip surprisingly strong.
“Thank you,” she rasped, her voice cracked with disuse.
I squeezed her hand briefly before urging her forward.
Fen stood at my side. Her sharp gaze swept the cavern, ensuring no threats remained. “How many more cages?” she asked, her voice tight.
“Just a few, darling,” Felix answered from across the room, already working on another lock.
“Apparently I moonlight as a locksmith now,” The last cage creaked open, and its occupant—a gaunt Riftborn woman with cracked horns and vacant eyes—stumbled into Felix’s waiting arms. “Easy, love—two steps, breathe. I’ve got you,” He murmured, steadying her as she limped toward the stairs with the others. I turned toward the corridor.
I’m coming for you, my love.
But just as I took a step forward, Fen grabbed my arm. Her grip was firm—not cruel, but halting. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I blinked. “To find him.”
Her jaw clenched. “Eva, we need to keep moving the prisoners. If we leave them here, they’ll get slaughtered the moment Vyper sends someone to check on his little zoo.”
“I know,” I said, swallowing the rising panic. “But he’s down there. He’s hurt. I saw him—he’s not going to last long.”
Fen’s eyes locked with mine. “I get it. Trust me.” Based on the look she gave me I felt like she was trying to tell me something about how she felt about Avod. “But we have forty scared, half-dead people depending on us to lead them out of this place. If we split up now?—”
“I’m not abandoning him.” My voice cracked. “Not again.”
Her expression didn’t soften. “And I’m not letting those people die for one man.”
The words hit me like a slap. I recoiled, breath shallow.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The flickering torchlight danced between us, casting long, shaking shadows on the walls.
Then Felix stepped forward, gently placing a hand on both our arms. “We finish what we started,” he said quietly. “We get them out—every last one. Then we go fetch our idiots. Both of them.”
I stared at them, at the bloodied floor beneath us, at the chain still wrapped around my wrist. Every instinct screamed to run, to sprint down the corridor and tear through the tower until I found him. But I couldn’t—not yet.
I exhaled slowly. The choice tasted like ash in my mouth.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice low. “We get them out,” then I turned, eyes blazing with resolve.
Then, we find Drake.