49. Lora
Lora
Exhaustion settled into my bones as I slumped against the wall. Every attempt to probe the stone with my cold magic had led nowhere. With just a scoop of water, I could’ve created frozen handholds, but I couldn’t sense even a drop of liquid nearby.
The evening light against the pit’s upper rim had faded into a pale sliver of moonlight. I hadn’t had anything to drink since before we broke into the Archives, and my throat burned with thirst.
I leaned my head back against the rough stone. “They have to give us water at some point, don’t they?”
Kestrel huffed a laugh. “Don’t count on it. They’ll starve us for a couple of days before dragging us through an interrogation.”
I stared at him, appalled. “A couple of days!”
“Oh yes. And if we admit to our crimes and agree to work in the furnace chambers beneath the forges, they’ll let us stay in these cells for the rest of our lives.”
Erion’s eyes widened. “Furnace chambers?”
“Yeah, prisoners with sun magic keep the forges running.”
My throat worked, revulsion coiling in my gut. What a miserable fate, spending your life between a pit and an underground chamber.
Erion shuffled closer, his shoulder brushing mine. Ever since our kiss, he’d clung to me, like he was afraid I’d slip away if he let me out of his reach. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
A song drifted from the other side of the pit, a clear and lilting melody spilling from Kestrel’s lips.
He spun a tale about fire—how it lulled you into safety, right before it burned you alive.
His voice held a soft warmth I hadn’t expected from him, each note threading into the next, easing the tension from my shoulders.
The song cut off at a shrill scream from overhead, muffled through the thick stone door. Angry shouts erupted, followed by heavy thuds and banging.
My pulse kicked up, drumming against my ribs. Erion’s wide-eyed gaze locked with mine.
The screaming ceased, replaced by scraping, slamming, and a rising murmur of voices. What in the turning tides was happening up there?
The cell door groaned open. Voices and thudding footsteps echoed down to us, but it was impossible to see what was going on.
“Hello?” Kestrel’s voice quivered.
Something scraped across stone. The ladder descended into the pit, clattering as it hit the bottom.
Blood rushed in my ears as I hauled myself up. Erion followed, then Kestrel.
At the top, a hooded figure waited, barely visible in the pale light from the narrow window.
A black festival mask covered his face, carved to resemble a monster.
Raised ridges curved along the cheekbones like bone plating, and the brows arched in exaggerated peaks, giving the wearer a permanent snarl.
His controlled posture radiated discipline, tall and rigid, his lean frame coiled with restrained power. The way he moved struck something familiar in my mind. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, hands flexing at his sides like he anticipated a fight.
“Who are you?” My voice came out soft, barely above a whisper.
He didn’t answer, only nodded toward the exit before disappearing into the corridor.
Kestrel’s voice brightened, his grin back in place. “Lovely, a mysterious stranger in a creepy mask. Seems very trustworthy.”
I shot him a glare. “As trustworthy as a stranger promising a way into the Forbidden Archives?”
Kestrel’s grin turned sheepish. “Fair point.”
Outside the cell, freed prisoners stepped over fallen guards, spreading out in organized chaos to break open more cells.
Men and women alike had gaunt faces and hollow cheeks, their skin coated in a gray film of ash and soot. A few stood motionless, swaying slightly on unsteady legs as if they’d forgotten what freedom felt like.
One woman pressed her palm flat against the wall, steadying herself, her eyes darting. Others moved with frantic energy, grabbing at fallen guards’ weapons with trembling hands, heads snapping toward every sound.
My chest ached. This was what the Sun Kingdom’s forges ran on.
People.
“Free as many as you can,” one prisoner said as he helped others out of a cell. “We’ll need numbers to break through the guards outside.”
The masked man moved from door to door, wrenching heavy stone beams from their brackets and casting them aside like they weighed nothing. The prisoners followed, lowering ladders into the pits. More captives emerged, blinking and disoriented.
Soon the corridor flooded with people, their voices overlapping in confusion and gratitude. Some demanded answers while others gestured toward the masked figure, calling him our savior in reverent voices.
My boot caught on something soft. A body sprawled across the floor—the gaunt-faced guard who’d escorted us to our cell. A charred crater gaped in his chest, still smoking. Clenching my jaw, I crouched and yanked my waterskin from his belt.
Torn between saving the water as a weapon and my agonizing thirst, I decided there was enough for both and swallowed several mouthfuls.
“Don’t drink too much,” I whispered, handing it to Erion.
He took a few large gulps before sharing with Kestrel. Still half full, he handed it back to me.
I reattached it to my belt, glowering at the corpse at my feet. Was this justice—or cruelty?
Something about his features reminded me of the man who’d killed my mother and Corin.
Justice. Definitely justice.
Someone burned through a storage room door and shouted triumphantly about finding our belongings. Prisoners surged inside in a tangle of reaching arms and desperate voices. Erion and I squeezed through the chaos.
“Here!” He snatched his bag from a shelf and checked that the two moon stones were still inside.
Relief washed through me as I found my small backpack with Father’s medical supplies and Caldera’s scarf tucked inside.
When the last prisoners had been freed, the masked man strode toward the fortress entrance and slammed both doors outward, flooding the corridor with pale moonlight.
Prisoners surged past him into the courtyard, where ore carts and rows of pickaxes stood abandoned for the night.
Guards on the tall surrounding walls whirled toward us, shouting and raising their hands to wield. A blaring alarm shrieked to life, the piercing wail drilling into my skull.
The door to a side building slammed open and more guards swarmed into the yard.
Chaos erupted as fire blazed from prisoners’ palms, streaking toward guards in brilliant arcs.
Flames licked against skin and leather, but the guards barely flinched, protected by their bolster.
They retaliated with searing heat and glowing metal shards, hurling them through the air.
Erion’s fingers dug into my arm, his breathing ragged.
Kestrel whimpered behind us. “Not again. I’m not cut out for prison riots. I’m more of a sing-about-it-later kind of person, really.”
My pulse raced as I reached out with my mind, sensing a trough near the mine entrance, and several water barrels against the walls. Perfect.
I raised my hands, but stopped myself, hesitating.
Drowning stars, I couldn’t risk it. Not here, not with dozens of eyes watching. Guards and prisoners alike would tear me apart the moment they realized what I was.
Warm fingers closed around my wrist.
The masked man tugged me sideways, toward the edge of the courtyard. Why he’d singled me out from the dozens of prisoners was a mystery, but he’d freed us, and he seemed to have a plan. I glanced back, nodding at Erion and Kestrel to follow.
The man led us toward the towering stone wall enclosing the compound. Guards converged from both sides, flames sparking between their palms. Our savior flicked his fingers, and flashing light flared at the nearest guards. They stumbled back, wiping at their eyes, but others filled their place.
The masked man’s hand shot out, and a couple of abandoned pickaxes at our feet melted. The metal surged up and formed a shield between us and an oncoming wave of flames.
Fire blazed from Erion’s hands, crashing against one guard’s chest. The woman didn’t even flinch, shielded by her bolster. She thrust her hands forward, hurling a burning storm back at Erion’s face.
He threw up his hands with a yelp. The entire flame snuffed out mid-air in a burst of sparkling cold. Tiny frost crystals spiraled down like glittering rain between Erion and the guard.
My stomach sank.
Erion froze, staring at his hands as if they’d betrayed him.
“What in the—” The guard’s voice cracked. “You’re a moon wielder!”
“No.” Erion choked on the word.
The guard’s eyes widened. “But… you just wielded fire!”
Nearby guards stared, their attacks momentarily paused. The masked man’s hands thrust forward, slamming his metal into the distracted guards like a battering ram, sending them sprawling across the packed earth.
I grabbed Erion’s sleeve and yanked him forward.
“He’s the Dual Wielder!” The shout rang out behind us.
Ebbs and darkness, this was bad.
Blood roared in my ears as prisoners and guards alike whipped their heads toward us. Dozens of eyes fixed on Erion, some wide with fear, others with calculating hunger.
Our masked savior surged ahead, leading us toward the wall. A jagged metal spike from above spun toward him, hurled by a guard from atop the rampart.
“Watch out!” I roared—too late.
The spike punched through his thigh. He gritted out something low and guttural, then kept charging forward.
Stars and sea, the metal had gone through his leg, and he’d barely flinched. Sun wielders and their rotten bolster.
The guard above gathered more metal, aiming them at us.
With our secret out, I didn’t hesitate as I reached for the nearest water source—a rain barrel by the wall.
I ripped the liquid into the air, shaping it into daggers.
They streaked upward, slamming into the guard.
He flailed to keep his balance but as more ice struck him, he toppled backward off the wall.
My blood ran cold as his fading scream cut short with a sickening crunch. Moon’s mercy, I’d just killed a man. Nausea clawed up my throat.
No, not a man. A sun wielder. I shoved all emotions deep down and kept running.
The masked figure thrust metal into cracks in the stone wall, shaping a narrow stairway as he climbed, the steps barely visible against the weathered stone.
This must’ve been how he got in.
“Come on!” My voice cracked as I gestured for Erion and Kestrel to hurry.
They shuffled up the narrow steps, and I took the rear, my heart hammering against my ribs.
In the yard below, other prisoners noticed the escape route and surged toward the wall while fighting off guards.
At the top, the masked figure spun to face two guards charging across the rampart.
Metal darts zoomed through the air, striking both guards at once.
One collapsed. The other staggered back and fell over the side.
Our savior leaned over the parapet, his hands flowing as he embedded more metal steps into the stone, all the way to the ground.
A blaring horn echoed through the forest. My gaze snapped to the road leading toward the keep’s main entrance. Columns of guards marched between the trees, their red uniforms stark against the greenery. Reinforcements from the nearby Border Camp.
My breath caught as I spotted the commander astride a massive Talanox. Gleaming drake scale armor encased both mount and rider.
Cold dread flooded my veins. My fingers clamped around Erion’s sleeve as the fury I’d fought to suppress resurfaced.
“It’s him.” The words scraped out between clenched teeth, tasting like acid.
The masked man’s head snapped toward me at my words, then toward the approaching force.
Erion grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the metal stairs. “You can’t deal with him now, Lora! We need to go!”
Kestrel had already scrambled halfway down the outer wall. From the courtyard side, prisoners climbed the steps toward us.
The keep’s massive gates groaned open, allowing reinforcements to sweep in like a tidal wave. Flames and molten metal crashed into the rioting prisoners with brutal precision. Bodies collapsed left and right as the guards reclaimed control.
The commander remained mounted near the gate. His cold gaze swept across the chaos, lips twisted in that familiar sneer.
My fingers twitched, reaching for water. If he could just come a little closer, I could hurl an ice spike across the distance, straight through his skull.
Guards converged from both sides of the ramparts. The masked man whirled, flames licking between his fingers. The prisoners who’d joined us added their attacks to his.
Erion tugged at my sleeve again.
I wrenched my gaze from the chaos. “Fine, I’m coming! You first.”
He glared at me, and I glared right back.
With a resigned sigh, he stepped onto the first metal step and disappeared over the edge.
Our savior spun out of the way as a guard hurled heated daggers at him. With a twirl of his fingers, a spray of molten droplets hardened mid-air into gleaming darts, each one piercing the guard’s chest.
I’d never seen anyone fight like this. He moved with calculated precision, each step deliberate, no wasted strikes. Only controlled power. Fluid. Graceful. Like a predator stalking through moonlight.
Wait.
I had seen someone fight like this.
By the deep. Was that—
My heart slammed against my ribs as I caught a glimpse of his amber eyes, burning with fierce determination.
My chest constricted.
It was him.
The sun prince had come to rescue us.