Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Pip swiped at the tears running down her face.
The screams and shouts of pain had finally stopped, although she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Were they done torturing Prince Edmund? Or had he died?
Guards had come for Prince Edmund first thing that morning, dragging him from his cell and out of his dungeon before either of them had even been served their paltry breakfast of hard bread.
The screams hadn’t started until early afternoon.
The iron door at the top of the stairs clanged open. Guards marched through, dragging a limp and bloody body between them.
Pip pressed her hands over her mouth to stifle her gasp as she huddled on her cot.
The guards didn’t so much as glance at her as they opened Prince Edmund’s cell and dumped him inside. They didn’t even bother with the shackles this time, as if they knew the spy prince was too incapacitated to need the secondary level of security.
No sooner had the upper door closed than Pip shoved her power through the wire, locking the door behind the guards so that they couldn’t get back in. Then she pushed open the door to her cell, keeping her injured arm tucked close to her body, and ran across the corridor. “Prince Edmund?”
He didn’t stir. Not when she opened the door to his cell. Not when she knelt next to him. Not even when she rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Prince Edmund.” She tightened her grip on his shoulder, but she didn’t dare even give him a shake. How badly was he injured this time?
She dragged the blanket from his bed and lumped it underneath his head. Once she’d done what she could to make him comfortable, she hurried from the cell and fetched the medical kit from the room around the corner.
She couldn’t do anything like stitch his wounds that would give away to the Mongavarians that someone had been here. But she dabbed away the blood with scraps of cloth and spreading salve over wounds where the Mongavarians wouldn’t see.
Prince Edmund didn’t stir the entire time. He occasionally groaned in pain, but that was all.
As she was finishing up, the door at the top of the stairs rattled. Then there came a banging as a guard tried to open it.
Pip leapt to her feet, her heart hammering.
Pain shot through her injured arm at the sudden movement, and she gritted her teeth.
Grabbing all the medical supplies, she dashed from Prince Edmund’s cell, ran down the hall for the spare room, and stuffed all the items under the bed.
It was the only thing she could think to do with them.
The banging was growing worse. Before too much longer, the guards would grab an acetylene torch and a crowbar to get the door open.
She returned the lock on Prince Edmund’s cell to normal before she returned to her cell and did the same. Once she had taken another moment to get her breathing under control, she sent her magic down the wire to unlock the door.
She didn’t wait to see the result. She sank onto her cot and pulled her blanket around her to hide any blood on her clothes.
There came a massive bang accompanied by the ringing of metal on stone. Someone swore.
Footsteps pounded against the stairs before several guards came into view. Yet they didn’t reach for either cell door. They merely stood to the side at attention.
After a moment, softer footsteps scuffed on the stone. Empress Bella herself swept into sight, a golden dress swathed around her petite figure. One of the men Pip had seen standing beside the empress on the dais—likely her son, the emperor-to-be based on his age—strode behind her.
Empress Bella faced Prince Edmund’s cell, her mouth twisting in an expression that was somewhere between disgust and satisfaction. “Guard, wake him up.”
A soldier stepped into view carrying a bucket. He splashed the water over Prince Edmund’s still form.
He groaned and finally shifted, his eyes cracking open before falling shut.
“Prince Edmund.” Empress Bella’s far-too-grandmotherly tone sent shivers over Pip’s skin.
Prince Edmund’s eyes flickered open again. He gave a weak laugh between bloodied lips. “I see you came to gloat.”
Empress Bella pressed her mouth into a tight line, a flash of anger in her eyes. “I see you are still unwilling to tell us what we want to know. But perhaps your little spy will be more willing to talk.”
Little spy? Had they caught Jayna? Pip clutched the blanket tighter around herself, her heart pounding.
Prince Edmund rolled onto his side, reaching for the bars to pull himself somewhat upright. “No. She has nothing to do with this.”
Yet instead of pulling Jayna from the shadows, Empress Bella waved her hand toward Pip’s cell. Two of the guards moved in her direction.
Right. They thought Pip was one of Prince Edmund’s spies. Well, she kind of was, now.
One of the guards opened the door and stood back while the other stomped into her cell.
She cringed away from him, her heart in her throat, her mind racing.
Was this the point she was supposed to flee?
Should she simply pretend she was a terrified, powerless girl?
Not that the terrified part would take a lot of pretending.
The guard grabbed her upper arm, right where she’d been wounded. She cried out as he dragged her to her feet.
Empress Bella’s gaze sharpened, and the crown prince took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “Mother, wasn’t one of the spies shot?”
“Yes.” Empress Bella stepped forward as Pip was hauled from the cell.
The empress’s gaze swept over Pip, her mouth twisting, before she reached out and yanked up Pip’s sleeve, revealing the bandage around her upper arm.
“Two spies broke into the War Office. And here are two spies in my dungeon. One with a bullet wound.”
“The use of elven magic must have been him.” The crown prince jabbed a hand at Prince Edmund. “One of those infernal elf heart bonds.”
Pip swallowed, avoiding the empress’s gaze and instead meeting Prince Edmund’s. Seeking what, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like he could reassure her that their carefully constructed mining tunnel of deception wasn’t about to come crashing down on their heads.
Prince Edmund’s eyes were wide—at least as wide as they would go with his face swelling—before he schooled his expression back into that more languid neutral.
“Search their cells. I want to know how they got out and where they’ve hidden the paperwork they stole.
I want guards stationed here at all times.
They are never to be out of sight.” Empress Bella swept one last glance over Pip, her gaze dismissive, before she turned to Prince Edmund.
“Regardless of what we find, enjoy your final night alive. You and your spy will be executed by firing squad in the morning.”
With that, Empress Bella spun on a heel and swept down the corridor with all the speed of the ninety-year-old grandmother that she was. At the stairs, she had to lean on her son’s arm to climb upward.
Pip’s legs were shaking, her heart pounding, as she tried to take in those words executed by firing squad.
The words didn’t have time to settle before she was hustled off to a new cell, this time on the side of the passageway without windows. A maid was called—not Jayna—who thoroughly searched Pip to make sure she didn’t have anything hidden on her person.
Prince Edmund was moved to a new cell as well next to her instead of across the way as before. He, too, was searched, and they found some wire and a lockpick he had on him.
Then guards turned the dungeon inside out, including searching the rooms around the corner. They found the medical supplies she had stashed under the bed, as well as a few other things Jayna had fetched for them.
At least the guards assumed that Prince Edmund and Pip had gotten out with his lockpicks and that the two of them had been the ones sneaking out somehow and taking those items. Thankfully, the guards didn’t seem to suspect that they’d had someone else inside the castle helping them.
But they still could get suspicious. Especially since they didn’t find any papers in the dungeon. After all, Jayna had stashed those somewhere, and not even Prince Edmund knew where.
At last, the bulk of the guards left with only two soldiers remaining behind, one staring into each of their cells. It seemed the empress had been very literal about Pip and Prince Edmund never being out of sight.
Pip pulled the rather musty blanket of this new cell around her shoulders and tried to ignore the weight of the guard’s stare on her. She wouldn’t sleep that night while under constant watch like this.
Would the guards allow them to talk? She had to swallow several times before she could get her dry mouth and constricting throat to work. When she finally spoke, she used dwarvish so that the guards couldn’t understand. “Is this the time to escape?”
The guard outside of her cell kicked his boot against the metal bars. “No talking. Especially not that jibberish.”
“Not yet.” Prince Edmund also spoke in dwarvish. He lay on his cot where the guards had dumped him. “We might as well enjoy Mongavaria’s hospitality for one more night.”
The guard in front of his cell kicked his door. “As he said. No talking.”
“But…tomorrow…” She couldn’t even say it out loud.
Prince Edmund tilted his head toward her, raising his eyebrows as much as he could with all the cuts and bruises on his face. “They can’t actually execute you by firing squad. You can shield yourself. And hopefully me, if it comes to that.”
He really shouldn’t sound so cavalier about execution. Yes, she could shield herself from bullets. They would be nothing after the bombs and crashing airships and everything else she’d shielded herself from throughout this war.
But she still couldn’t stop the words from echoing in her head anyway. She couldn’t be quite so unworried about execution as he was.
“And if they have one of those magic-stealing machines?” Pip could barely get the words out past the fear squeezing her throat and chest.
“Then we hope our rescue arrives in time.” Prince Edmund settled back as if getting more comfortable on his cot. “And hope my daughter has enough sense to stay away tonight.”
“That’s it. Don’t make me come in there.” The guard before Prince Edmund’s cell brandished his rifle, as if he was prepared to beat Prince Edmund with it if he said another word.
Pip swallowed and forced herself to lie down with her back to the guard. Her fingers shook as she clutched the blanket around her.
She wanted to get out of here. Away from dungeons and executions and danger.
Was Fieran on his way? Would he arrive tomorrow morning as planned? Or were she and Prince Edmund on their own?