Chapter 3
Hannah
“Let go!” My voice bounced off the walls, ragged and high, as the guards yanked me to my feet like I weighed nothing.
The guard with lilac eyes had his gloved hand clamped around my right arm, and his fingers were digging into my bicep, causing a deep throb of pain. The one with a long, jagged scar on his jaw held my left wrist so tight that my fingers were tingling.
They dragged me across the stone courtyard, through a dark doorway, and down a staircase, with the one called Folge following behind.
My pulse pounded, and I tried to yank myself away, but their grips were a vise as they crowded me on both sides, putting the three of us on the same stair simultaneously.
The men and the walls seemed to close in on me as the stairwell spiraled down, becoming narrower and colder with each step.
Torches burned in iron brackets, the guttering yellow-orange flames seeping smoke that stung my eyes.
The shadows between the pools of light were deep and thick, clinging to the ceiling like spiderwebs made of ink.
The damp and metallic air made breathing hard, and the stone steps were slick under my sneakers. Every time I slipped, the guards jerked me up again, jolting my shoulders in their sockets. My breaths came fast and shallow, puffing white in front of my face in little panicked bursts.
I dug my heels in. “I can walk myself, thanks. You don’t have to drag me like a—whoa—” My sneaker slid on something slick.
“Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong.
I fell through a mirror.” Why was I even trying to explain?
A drug trip wouldn’t change because of my outcries.
All I knew was that I never wanted to try drugs again.
Zero stars. Would not recommend. I’d put a warning on the iron box so, if anyone else found it, they’d know why they should avoid the strange dagger and cutting themselves. ..aside from the obvious, of course.
We reached the bottom of the stairs, the air even more frigid and heavy with moisture and something that smelled sour, like blood, sweat, and old fear soaked into stone. A draft slid along the floor, and icy fingers seemed to wrap around my ankles. Goosebumps raced up my legs, and I shivered.
A long corridor stretched out ahead. Torches flickered, throwing jittery light across the floor. Chains clinked softly somewhere in the dark.
My stomach dropped.
This was a real dungeon.
The kind of place people didn’t come back from. And it felt as real as the fall.
My wounded hand throbbed, but it didn’t feel as painful as it should. I twisted my wrist and glanced down at it. Dried blood streaked my palm and fingers, but the gash had grown smaller, despite my having gotten it just minutes ago. The edges had already knit together.
What the—
Nope. I was tripping. Of course weird shit was going to happen. Look at this world I literally fell into. It wasn’t real.
But a part of me felt uncomfortable, like this might not be made up.
“Please,” I tried, my voice softer and my tightening throat shoving all the sarcasm out of my tone. Even if this was just a bad trip, I didn’t want to live through torture. “Just… take me back to the courtyard. Let me try the mirror. Maybe it’ll—”
“There is no mirror in the courtyard now,” Scar Jaw said without looking at me. “It shouldn’t have worked for you when it did.”
“There’ll be hell to pay for it opening up at all,” Lilac Eyes muttered.
My heart stuttered. “It has to work.”
They ignored me, hauling me deeper underground until the corridor split like some kind of stone crucifix. The left and right passages yawned into more torchlit gloom. The guards halted, and Lilac Eyes turned to Folge. “Which way, sir? He said not to put her with the others.”
“Whichever way is back to the courtyard or out of this place,” I muttered.
Scar Jaw rolled his eyes and gave me a small shake.
Folge grunted and planted his fists on his belt like the world’s grumpiest cowboy.
Then he pointed to the left corridor. “King’s in a foul mood.
Put her in the farthest one. If he wishes for us to move her to another, he will tell us.
Best to follow his command to the letter rather than…
indulge in creativity. I’d wouldn't want to try him today.”
The guards dragged me to the left, and my shoes scraped helplessly over the coarse stone, the rubber squeaking in protest. “No. Stop. Please!”
Instead, their grip tightened into iron bands on my arms, jerking me along.
“Let go of me!” I twisted hard enough that my hair slapped my cheek. “I can walk, assholes!”
Lilac Eyes huffed. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, woman.”
“I’m not making it—ow—harder, you’re just manhandling me like a sack of laundry—”
“Quiet,” Folge snapped.
We reached a barred iron door near the end of the corridor.
Cold wrapped around me like a wet sheet, seeping through my jeans and my stupid pink shirt and knifing straight into my bones.
The courtyard had been bad, all frost and bitter wind, but this dungeon was somehow worse, like a freezer carved into the guts of the palace.
Folge grabbed the door handle and yanked. The hinges screamed like something dying, making every hair on my arms stand up.
He didn’t flinch. “His Majesty will be informed of your placement, and if he wishes to speak with you before you freeze, he will do so.”
Folge stepped aside, and the guards shoved me forward. I stumbled into the cell, and my injured palm hit the frigid wall. I hissed as pain and needles of cold shot up my arm, tightening every muscle in my body. Shit! This was bad.
Behind me, the iron door slammed shut, and the bolt locked into place with a deep sound that thudded straight through my ribs.
I pushed off the wall and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my upper arms hard even though it did nothing to cut the cold.
My breath trembled out in white clouds. The cell was barely bigger than a large walk-in closet, and the stone bench was rimmed in frost. A pile of old straw filled one corner, I assumed for sleeping.
Every inch of my body buzzed with adrenaline—my shoulders trembling, my stomach knotting so tight it hurt, and a strange vibration rumbling under my skin, like my nerves were trying to climb out.
My eyes burned, and I blinked until the sting faded.
“Okay. Hannah. You’re fine. You’ve handled worse.” I couldn’t think of anything worse than this, but still. I didn’t want to ruin the illusion.
I forced one breath, then another. I needed to snap out of this drug-induced haze.
I’d wake beneath the freaky-ass tree, and I felt so cold only because of the nighttime temperature.
Pinching myself hadn’t worked. Neither had that cut on my hand, but it looked fully healed now, further proof I was hallucinating. At least, I wasn’t bleeding out.
The guards’ footsteps faded into the distance, and the silence rushed in all thick, icy, and suffocating. My chest tightened like a too-small band had been snapped around my ribs. I wrapped my arms around myself and forced slow breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Okay. Think. Even if this was just a bad drug trip, I needed to get out of this place.
The cold wasn’t the first threat. The panic was. If I didn’t keep it on a leash, I was going to spiral into something worthless.
I moved in front of the door and crouched low enough to peer through the keyhole.
It looked like an old lock with a heavy tumbler, not too complicated, if I had a strong enough lever or hook.
If I’d still had my keyring, maybe I could have made something out of it.
My earrings weren’t going to be much good, but I pulled one out anyway, just in case.
The thin silver fishhook wire didn’t even budge the tumbler inside.
“Great.” I shoved it into my pocket.
There had to be something I could do. I paced in the small square of the floor. In twelve steps, I reached the back, turned, and strode to the front, then back again. Movement helped keep the cold from sinking too far into my bones.
My gaze landed on the stone bench. Maybe I could break it and use it as a lever. I braced my hands on the edge and pulled upward with all the strength my shaking arms had left.
It didn’t budge.
Not an inch.
Refusing to give up, I knelt beside it and felt along the underside. My fingertips brushed something metal—large screws, driven straight into the stone wall.
I wanted to yank my hair out. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I moved closer to the door and examined the hinges closely. Thick metal plates bolted to the stone frame. But the bolts were exposed, with four large ones on top and three below. If I could wedge something sturdy under them, I could loosen them and attempt to take the door off the frame.
Not elegant, but desperate times called for rock-bottom creativity.
I patted myself down, just in case there was some bit of metal in my clothing that I could use. My bra didn’t even have an underwire. That bastard king couldn’t let me keep my keychain, could he?
“Dammit!”
My breath plumed around me like smoke. I leaned my forehead against the cold metal bars, letting the chill anchor me.
Okay. So that was a no. I needed something stronger, so I kept searching. Nothing. Nothing at all. There was no give in anything in the cell.
Time started to blur, and the cold made everything sting and burn more.
Footsteps approached, sounding less heavy than those of the guards.
I stepped back, body coiled tight with wariness. My heart thudded harder as a shadow appeared in front of the cell.