Chapter Thirty-One
Wilde’s pale lashes were hard to see unless I looked up close, and I was very close to him right now. Limbs entwined, chests pressed flush against each other, red and white hair mixing on the pillow. The only way we could have been closer was if he’d still been inside me.
How the fuck was I supposed to leave without waking him?
My arm had gone numb from his weight. It barely responded to my commands, but I managed to slide it back a few inches. It immediately woke up with a vengeance, pins and needles stabbing every nerve. I bit my lip to hold back a groan and clenched my teeth as I continued to slowly unpin it.
One limb free, two more to go.
I thought an evil mage’s apprentice would be a light sleeper—someone who would startle awake at the slightest change in his surroundings. Yet Wilde didn’t move at all even as I pulled my leg out from between his and rolled over on the bed.
Maybe it was because he felt safe in his master’s lair. Or maybe he’d been running himself ragged over the past few weeks, trying to ensure everything went according to plan. Either way, his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady.
As I stood up, a heavy ache spread through my back, bending me over almost double. I grabbed onto the wall and breathed slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth, waiting for my muscles to stop protesting.
Something dripped down my leg and I closed my eyes in embarrassment. Had Wilde left part of himself inside me? But when I finally looked down, I realized it was just a trickle of water. He must have cleaned me up after I’d passed out.
I hobbled over to the wardrobe for a fresh pair of clothes. When I opened the double doors, my own reflection greeted me. Love bites dotted my skin, heavy on the bite. I leaned closer to examine one on my neck and could practically count Wilde’s teeth.
Not that I’d left him any better. Dark bruises and red marks painted his pale skin, adding to the beautiful portrait of his slumber. I wanted to crawl back into bed with him and kiss each mark, then bite him all over again.
But once he woke up, I’d lose my chance to talk with the others.
I dressed quickly, surprised to find clothes in the wardrobe that fit me. Wilde was short enough that the pants should have ended above my ankles, yet they were exactly the right length. Had he bought clothes specifically for me?
My pack with all its supplies was discarded near the sitting area. The guards might question me if I walked around with it, so I couldn’t bring it with me. I rifled around in it, pulling out the items I needed and stuffing them in my pockets.
At the door, I took one last look at Wilde. Still fast asleep, one arm outstretched over the empty space where I should have been. What would he think when he woke alone?
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and slipped out of the room.
Climbing down the stairs, every part of me ached, and I wished I could teleport like Wilde. His rooms were on the third floor, so I had to walk down two ivy covered flights. I shoved the vines aside and clung onto the rail, taking each step as quickly as I dared.
As I reached the first floor, an imp zoomed past the staircase, carrying half a pie in a sagging tin. The pastry was precariously perched, about to break through its enclosure if the imp shifted it wrong.
A second imp raced after the first, shouting, “That’s mine! You already ate yours!”
Neither paid any attention to me as they zipped around the corner.
I pictured Fitz’s map in my head, following the hallways of the old government building until I found the entrance to the jail-turned-dungeons. Another damn set of stairs.
My legs felt like jelly by the time I reached the bottom.
I’d thought there’d be one guard, maybe two.
Instead, I found four huge orcs crammed around a much-too-small card table.
Their chairs took up more than half the hallway.
If a fight ensued, I wasn’t sure who would win.
The orcs would have a hard time drawing their weapons, but there was nowhere in the cramped hallway that I could get out of reach.
None of the orcs looked up, all focused on their card game. From the deep furrows on the captain’s brow, I guessed he was losing. His tusks poked petulantly into his cheeks as he tried to figure out his next play. He glanced up at me and made a split-second decision to ruin the game. “Attention!”
The other three orcs sprang to their feet.
While they were distracted, the orc captain swapped out his cards, then laid his hand facedown. “Orders from the Lord of Grimnight?” he asked as he lumbered to his feet.
“I need to interrogate the hostages,” I explained.
One of the orcs scratched their head in confusion. “Why would you interrogate them? They haven’t done anything wrong—” a sharp elbow in his side cut him off. He rubbed his ribs and frowned at his captain. “Why’d you—oof!” The second jab shut him up.
“He’s the lord’s son. If he says he needs to interrogate them, he needs to interrogate them.”
It was a little odd to be downgraded from a prince to a ‘lord’s son’ after twelve years. Not that I’d put much stake in my stolen title.
The orc captain unlocked the door for me. “Cells are down the hall.”
I thanked him and slipped past him.
As the door closed, I heard one of the orcs mutter, “Awfully polite for someone evil.”
Dammit, I needed to be more imperious. I spun on my heel, raising my chin to give the appearance of looking down on them even though they were a foot taller than me. “There’s no reason for all four of you to be here. Don’t you have other assignments?”
“The royal champions are captured,” one orc said. “That was our job. What else are we supposed to—”
“And if someone comes after them? This is no time to laze about playing card games. What were your assignments before?”
“Patrolling to search for the champions, guarding the doors so the champions couldn’t catch us unaware, uhh …” The orc looked to their captain.
The captain stared back at me steadily. “All jobs that have now come to an end. Unless you’re willing to pay us overtime?”
I pulled a pouch of coins from my pocket and tossed it to the captain. He caught it without taking his eyes off me. “Fair pay for fair work,” I told him.
He weighed the pouch, then tucked it into his pocket. “New orders, lads. Back to your posts.”
Happy to receive more pay, the orcs grabbed their spare chairs and marched up the stairs.
The captain paused at the bottom, glancing back at me.
“The lacertians have the next shift. Someone will be here in about twenty minutes to take over. We have separate contracts, and I don’t know if theirs allows for overtime. ”
“Understood.” I waited until he left and I heard the door closing at the top of the stairs, then continued down the hall toward the cells.
The jail had probably once been a simple collection of temporary holding cells before an evil mage got ahold of it. Halfway down the hall, someone had transformed the walls into dark, mossy stone that dripped for no reason. The heavy scent of wet decay clung in the air, sticking to my lungs.
A quiet, determined whisper drifted down the hall. Even from a distance, I recognized Fitz. “Perhaps we could use something for leverage to break the hinges?”
Instead of answering his question, Maximus shushed him. “Someone’s coming.”
As I approached, I saw Delilah leaning against the bars of her cell, cheeks smooshed as she tried to press her face through the small gap. When she spotted me, her eyes widened in excitement. “Trey!”
I stopped between the two cells and surveyed their occupants.
Delilah was the worst off, with her fluffy hair tangled and scratches all over her arms and face.
I didn’t know which of those came from the fight against the minions or her current escape attempts.
The biggest shock was seeing her round, human ears for the first time in days.
I’d barely looked at her in the throne room, so I didn’t know if she’d lost her collar or if one of the guards had confiscated it.
Fitz had a red mark on his temple and his eyes were squeezed tight as he tried to focus on me. Without his glasses, his face was too clean and naked.
Several purple bruises had bloomed across Maximus’ face and up into his short, dark hairline. His hands fisted in the thin sheets on the cot, tightening until a loud rip made me flinch.
Something flew at my head, clipping my ear before it crashed against the bars of Fitz and Maximus’ cell.
“Fiend!” Angelica snarled, her hand blindly seeking another item.
She snatched up a pillow and chucked it with all her might, only for it to bounce harmlessly off her cell door.
“Traitor! Get out of here!” A second pillow collided with the bars.
“We have nothing to say to evil mages or their minions!”
The candle she chucked next sailed through the bars, and I had to duck to avoid it. “Would you stop?” Why was there so much stuff in her cell?
Delilah grabbed Angelica’s arm before she could throw anything else at me. “Wait! I want to hear what he has to say!”
“I’m interested as well,” Fitz said, reaching up reflexively to adjust his glasses.
His hand waved an inch from his face, faltering when it found empty air.
He nonchalantly scratched his ear as if that was what he’d meant to do all along.
“After everything we’ve been through, we deserve an explanation. ”
“What explanation?” Angelica demanded. “He’ll just lie! Like he has this whole time!” She tried and failed to throw Delilah off. The other girl clung to her, digging her fingers into Angelica’s arm like a cat would dig their claws into a tree.