Chapter 31 #2
My fingers close around a stone roughly the size of my fist. It’s far from the perfect tool, but perhaps if I hit the lock in exactly the right spot?
I return to the door and begin slamming the rock against the weakest part of the lock as hard as I can. After only a few strikes I know it’s not going to do anything but leave me exhausted, but I keep going. It’s better than doing nothing.
My mind wanders as I work on the lock, and I keep having to pull it back from the edge of the abyss.
I can’t think about what’s happening to Aurelia right now.
I can’t wonder about the rest of my friends—Kai and Luka, Jett and Connell, and all the rest—because thinking about that will make it impossible to focus on escaping, and that’s all that matters.
My mind lands on the moment earlier when Aurelia was in the bath. I should have just gone in there with her, rather than sitting outside trying to talk to her through the wall.
A new idea hits me at the same moment as my hand slips, and I accidentally slam the edge of my hand between the rock and the iron lock. “Fuck!”
I step back, ignoring my throbbing hand, too focused on my new idea to care.
Closing my eyes, just like I did earlier, I call out in my head. “Aurelia?”
I’m not surprised when she doesn’t answer, but I’m not done trying yet.
I’ve never had to think much about how to speak mind-to-mind.
I don’t know why we can’t hear all thoughts, just those intended as speech.
I don’t really know what the full range is, or how close I would have to be to speak to someone.
These are all things I just took for granted.
I try to focus on projecting my thoughts outward. “Aurelia, say something.”
Again nothing happens and I swear again, with frustration this time rather than pain. I pick up my rock again and go back to slamming it into the lock.
“I don’t know what I was expecting to happen,” I say in my head, still projecting my thoughts outward even though I’m sure she can’t hear me.
“I know I’ve heard you before, but I don’t know why it doesn’t work when I want it to.
That fucking figures. I usually prefer silence.
I never thought I would find someone whose voice I wanted to hear. ”
Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t answer, but for some reason I keep talking.
“I’ve always liked listening to you talk. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did.”
The rock keeps clanging against the lock, and I speed my movements, hammering faster.
“I know I shouldn’t be trying to make you hear me, but I don’t think it matters anymore. It’s too late.”
“If you die…if you’re already dead, I know it’s my fault. I knew if I loved you, you could get hurt, and I really tried not to. For two years I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to love you.”
The rock breaks in half in my hand, and I drop the smaller half on the ground and keep hammering.
“I tried so hard not to, and I’ve been doing it for so long, that I didn’t notice that I already do. I think I’ve loved you for so long that it just feels normal. I don’t know what that means for us, but I wish I could have told you.”
“Fox?” A tentative voice sounds in my head.
I’m so surprised that I drop my rock and only narrowly avoid crushing my own foot. I jump backwards out of the way, my heart hammering against my chest. “Aurelia?”
There’s a pause that feels like the longest silence of my life. “No. I’m sorry, it’s Runa.”
I blink, bitter waves of disappointment crashing over me.
I recognize her voice now—clearly not Aurelia’s. I suck in a breath, pulling myself together. I am truly glad she’s alive, it’s not her fault she wasn’t the voice I was longing to hear.
“I’m glad to hear you,” I say, sounding flat even in my head.
“You as well,” Runa says, sounding distracted. “Where are you?”
“In a cell,” I reply dully. “I don’t know where.”
“So am I. Your friends are with me—” she breaks off. “The human is trying to talk to me at the same time, I can’t think—shut up!”
My heartbeat picks up. “Is Jett there?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounds irritated, and I assume she’s still trying to split her focus between me and what’s happening in front of her.
“What about Kai and the others?”
“No. I don’t know where they are. I didn’t know any of you were here until I, uh, heard you.”
I wince. I don’t give a fuck what she heard, or if the entire world knows I love Aurelia. I just wish I’d told her before Runa. I guess we have bigger problems right now.
“We must be near each other,” Runa says briskly. “The pirate just started shouting, can you hear him?”
I strain my ears, but I can’t hear anything except my own ragged breathing. “No, I can’t.”
She groans. “Alright, well, we’ll try to find you anyway.”
“Wait, what?” I demand, excitement crashing over me again. “You can get out of your cell?”
“Not yet, but your friends seem confident they’ll be able to. The pirate is apparently known for escaping? I don’t know how long it will take, but we’ll come find you.”
I drop the second half of my rock, and sink onto the floor, my back pressed against the wall. I close my eyes, tipping my head back, and preparing to wait for however long it takes for the others to come find me.
“Hold on,” I think, in Aurelia’s direction. “I’ll find you, I promise.”
Runa probably heard that too, but she must realize it wasn’t directed at her because she doesn’t say anything. Still, I stop talking, so that she doesn’t have to listen.
Instead, I picture Aurelia’s face—not the way I last saw her at dinner, but before.
When she first came to my room two years ago; then, all those nights in the barracks, after we’d finished, I’d just listen to her talk about our friends, or her animals, or whatever strange idea she’d had.
I remember her face last night, sleepy and content.
“Are you done already?” a woman’s voice calls, the sound echoing off the stone.
My head jerks up and my eyes pop open. I look around, startled, but I don’t see anyone. I get to my feet and stand at the bars of my cell, peering into the darkness of the corridor beyond.
“There’s no way out, of course,” the voice continues. “Believe me, I’ve been trying for years, but you didn’t try very long. I would have expected more than an hour of effort to save your own life.”
As absurd as it is, my hackles raise. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman laughs, and this time I can tell it’s coming from the cell across from mine. I squint through the darkness. Is someone in there after all?
There’s a hint of movement in the shadows and my eyes widen as a very short woman gets up from the floor. She’s wearing a ragged black cloak, which blended so well with the stone behind her I didn’t see her, but now she moves toward the bars of her cell and stands across from me.
As she steps into the dim light from my window, I see that she’s not wearing a cloak at all.
What I took at first to be a ragged cape is actually long, black, slightly matted hair.
It’s so long it drags on the floor, as if she hasn’t been able to cut it in decades.
After a moment, when I’m able to tear my eyes off her hair and look at her face, a wave of recognition hits me.
Those eyes are entirely too familiar, and similar to Aurelia’s in a way that Silvia’s never could be.
I know exactly who this is—who it must be—but the name escapes me. I wrack my brain, trying to find it on the very edge of my memory. “Amora?”
I must get her name right, because Aurelia’s mother draws back.“Who are you?”
The question catches me off guard.
Who am I, exactly? I don’t really know. I’m the commander of the Vernalli army, and now the reluctant alpha of a second army. I’m a soldier and a prisoner and a half-breed.
I swallow hard. “I’m with Aurelia.”
Amora cocks her head in confusion. “Who?”
That takes me off guard again.
Maybe I have the wrong person? I would think so, except that Amora looks a lot like both Aurelia and Silvia.
Being Fae, she hasn’t aged like a human would, and looks to be about the same age as both her daughters.
She’s dirty and wearing rags, but I can tell that underneath that she has the same small build and heart-shaped face.
Her skin is a shade or two darker and more olive toned, her features somewhat sharper, but otherwise they look fairly similar.
“Your daughter, Aurelia. She’s here.”
Amora’s face twists in confusion for a moment, then her face transforms, shock washing over her features. “My daughter is here? Now?”
I nod. “She came from Vernallis to find you.”
I think it’s the word “Vernallis” that does it. The remainder of suspicion clears from Amora’s face, to be replaced with desperation. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the bars. “Where is she now?”
I press my forehead against the cold iron. “I don’t know,” I admit, hating the words as they leave my mouth. “But I need to get back to her. Before Silvia—”
Amora recoils at the sound of Silvia’s name. “They’re together?”
I nod again, not wanting to tell her that the last time I saw Aurelia she was unconscious, and Silvia is the one who poisoned her.
“What’s your name?” Amora asks, her eyes narrowing on me again with curiosity rather than suspicion.
“Fox. I’m—” Again, I struggle with how to describe who I am. I almost say I’m Aurelia’s mate, but for some reason that lie is starting to bother me. I don’t want to keep saying it until it’s true. “Aurelia is mine.”
Amora nods, as if that makes total sense to her. Maybe it does.
“I need to get out of here and find her,” I growl.
Amora’s face falls, her shoulders slumping against the bars. “I’ve tried everything,” she whispers. “The cells are warded against magic and shifting. There truly is no way out.”
“That can’t be true, there’s always a way out. I escaped fucking Dyaspora, this is nothing compared to that.”
Amora’s eyebrows raise. “How did you do that?”
I open my mouth to answer, then close it again, suddenly remembering that Thorne was the one who helped us escape.
Amora was once engaged to Thorne and probably won’t appreciate being reminded of it.
I doubt she even knows the curse is broken or that Thorne is dead.
“It doesn’t matter. I have friends who are nearby and will help. ”
She grimaces, looking doubtful, but just says: “I hope you’re right.”
I am right. I know I am because I have to be. The walls are warded against shifting and magic, but evidently not against telepathy. Runa is with Connell and Jett, and Connell can escape from fucking anywhere. I have to believe they’re coming.
“How did you end up here?” I ask.
Amora cocks her head. “The same way you did, I expect.”
“Silvia?”
She nods, then grips the bars again, her eyes taking on an edge of desperation. “Please just tell me, is my other daughter anything like her?”
I shake my head vigorously. “Not at all.”
Amora looks relieved for a moment, then frowns looking more heartbroken than ever. “Then the best we can hope for is that she’ll end up locked in here too.”
My chest constricts, but I push that idea aside. That isn’t happening. “What happened between you and Silvia?”
Amora considers for a second, then her shoulders slump. She sinks to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of the bars of her cell. Feeling strange to keep standing, looming over her, I sit too.
“I don’t usually like to think about this,” she says, staring into space as if not really seeing me at all. “But I suppose you probably know some of it already?”
I nod. “Beatrix told—”
“Beatrix?” she asks, her voice ringing in excitement. “Do you know her?”
I nod.
“Is she well? I owe her everything.”
“She’s fine. Her son, Daemon, is a king now. Do you remember him?”
She shakes her head. “We never met. I knew she had a son, but he was sent to Dyaspora by the time…” she trails off, and I can practically see the calculations happening behind her eyes.
She looks like Aurelia when she’s trying to come up with a particularly difficult spell.
“I think you and I must have a lot of people in common.”
I nod again. “Yes. When we get out of here, you can see them, but I need you to tell me what happened for you to end up here. What is wrong with Silvia?”
She laughs hollowly “‘Wrong’ is such an interesting word choice. When I first noticed, that was the word I used too. I think she takes after her father.”
“I’ve met Thorne.”
Amora’s face twists with rage, and for a moment she looks almost frightening. “He’s still alive?”
“No,” I say quickly. “He’s dead. Like I was saying, Daemon is the king of Vernallis now.”
“Good.”
She looks lost for a moment, as if deep in thought, then her eyes snap back to mine. “This is a long story, and in some ways it doesn’t really start with me, it begins with the Queen of Thermia.”
“I think we have some time, I don’t know how long it will take for my friends to find me—us, I mean. We can get you out too.”
She gives me a shrewd look that I have trouble interpreting. I can’t tell whether she’s going to tell me the story or not. It seems as if she won’t, but then she throws her endless curtain of hair over her shoulder and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the floor as she begins to speak.