Chapter 52
Keira
Keira woke to the tang of metal permeating her mouth.
Her cheeks were riddled with cuts from the bit of iron that pinned her tongue.
The muscles of her jaw were locked and uncomfortable, unable to stretch.
The cage they’d locked around her skull was a Wizard’s Bridle.
She’d read about them once. It was an utterly barbaric way to prevent the casting of spells.
Though it would not hinder her innate magic, which did not require words, the Magebane would see to that.
Iron manacles dug into her wrists where they’d supported her weight throughout the night.
Every muscle protested as Keira tried to arrange herself against the wall in a way that wasn’t so painful.
The process itself was excruciating. Starting and stopping until her legs were folded under her, taking the pressure off her swollen hands.
The poison they’d been using was wearing off, but not entirely gone.
At least she could string her thoughts together.
She was clearly in the brig of a large ship.
Presumably one belonging to the Golden Compass, lackeys of the Highwind Cartel.
She had seen their symbol on the man’s clothes the night before.
If they’d gotten their hands on her, her situation was worse than she’d feared, and being kidnapped from her bed in the middle of the night, drugged, and tossed in a wagon had been bleak to begin with.
How had they found her so far from the city?
None of it made any sense. She’d fallen asleep in Caspian’s arms and somehow woken to a nightmare.
Again, hope came to her that Caspian would find her. He’d met the Blades. Certainly he would go to them for help. That is, if he knew she’d been taken. Or had she just disappeared to him… again?
Her thoughts were interrupted by irregular motions beneath her.
The ship was docking. They’d come to collect her, right?
They must know that she’d have her magic back soon, and then they’d better hope they had sturdier methods of keeping her restrained than manacles.
She’d tear this ship into kindling. Any hopes of being ignored, however, were scant.
They’d been careful to keep her weak. Another piece of the puzzle.
They had known what she was capable of from the start.
Keira reached for her magic and found only whispers.
Desperation drove her to dig deeper. If they were arriving at a destination, this could be her last chance.
She latched onto some remnant of her strength and tugged against the iron restraints, but they held firm.
It wouldn’t be enough. Keira sat panting from even that feeble effort.
She needed to save her energy for when they released her to be moved.
So she waited.
Soon enough blinding sunlight poured in from above, as she heard footsteps on the ladder.
Keira scowled as her eyes adjusted and the hook nosed man came into view with three muscly guards behind him.
His robes were spotless and pressed. Meanwhile, her thin nightdress was stained and ripped in several places and hardly fit to wear at all.
She probably looked as feral as she felt.
“Keira, I presume?” His voice was lofty, as if to provide further separation between them.
She could hardly speak with the cursed cage around her face. Keira refused him any humiliating attempts, holding his stare with every bit of venom she possessed.
“You are currently a member of the band of renegades who call themselves the Blades of Fate?” he said the name with particular distaste before glancing at her again. He waited until it was clear she wasn’t inclined to offer anything but a daggered stare.
“Now I understand that looks can be deceiving. For example, I see before me a savage criminal, but I’m willing to put past impressions behind me.
” He paused, for dramatic effect, she supposed.
“I understand that you were first employed on cartel ships before you defected to less civilized means. The Highwind Company is willing to forgive this misfortunate lapse in your judgment.”
Keira looked away, as much of a refusal as she was able at the moment.
It was true that she had signed on to a few of their ships, before she knew any better.
Her job had been to create favorable winds to trading vessels.
Clearly she was capable of more, and now they knew it.
She had no inclination to become a cartel pawn.
Her captor changed tactics, tone chilling.
“At this very moment, this ship is docked outside Deepgate Prison.” Her body stiffened at the name, exactly the sign he’d been looking for as his voice turned overbearingly smug.
“I’m sure that we can both agree that we’d rather see you out in the open air, paying honest reparations than rotting in a cell so deep that even the sun’s forgotten it’s there. ”
There would be a third option, even if she had to carve it out herself.
“If you agree to our terms, you’ll submit to a pact brand and a sentence of fifteen years service to the company. I’m sure with your help we’ll be able to make the channel a safer place for all in such a time.”
She snorted. Completely out of the question. Those with a brand were little more than slaves. They would have complete control over her, her power. She’d never sign herself over, not to these greedy cowards. There had to be another way.
He waited for her reply, but Keira refused to look at him. She refused for him to see the real fear in her eyes as she calculated her dwindling options.
“Bring her,” he sighed at last.
Within a moment his guards were undoing the chains. Even though she saw it coming, her body fell hard to the deck as her wrists were released. “Get her up,” the hooked nosed man said impatiently.
Again she was manhandled until she was upright, using as much of her own power to stand as possible. He stood there, nearly within arm’s reach, scrutinizing her as if she were nothing more than a troublesome investment.
He sighed again. “Since you don’t seem enthusiastic about my offer, why don’t I give you some time to reconsider?” He nodded to his men, who pulled her toward the upper deck. “Perhaps a year will be enough time for you to change your mind.”
Keira growled and snapped and snarled and fought like every ounce the wild thing she was, but it was not enough as they drug her down to a place which the sun had indeed long forgotten.