Chapter 17 #3
I’d been collecting supplies and stashing them inside my mattress.
I’d cut a small slice in the bottom and, while it wasn’t comfortable to lie on, no one noticed.
Now that I was feeling better, I had fewer visitors.
Clarity didn’t come back, and Raven returned to silently glaring at me.
Sometimes that sensation of spiders would crawl across my skin again and my powers would flare in response, but then it would vanish.
I had no idea what it meant, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.
My plan had to be perfect. If Madame caught me—
I shuddered. Madame could not catch me.
That night, I stood in the middle of the clinic listening to the fire crackle in the woodstove and allowed myself a moment of grief. It swept over me with a surprising intensity. If I could choose, Mac’s crew would be the kind of people I’d want for a family.
This could have been something so good.
I clung to a delusional sort of hope that Madame wouldn’t punish anyone too severely for my escape. I hated being forced to choose between the chance that Madame punished Mac’s crew and the chance that the Shadow murdered the entire hold.
I had to believe that Trey would be okay. I had to—
Mac opened the door. The dark expression on his face gave me a second of panic that he knew my plan, but then he spoke.
“Madame wants you.”
My stomach twisted.
I followed him through the dark, quiet hold, our boots crunching in the snow. Mac didn’t speak to me, and I couldn’t tell what that meant. My dread rose as we entered the watchtower and descended to the dungeon. I hadn’t seen Madame since I’d passed out down here weeks ago.
Inside the torture room stood Madame, five of her lackeys, and Zana, the third member of the council.
My heart stuttered in shock at the sight of Nemo restrained in the chair.
He’d been stripped of his shirt, and blood dripped down his bruised face, but there was a defiant fire in his expression as he held Madame’s gaze.
I glanced back at Mac, but his face told me nothing.
“Hello, Bones.” Madame gave that unhinged smile. “We caught a big fish today.”
I looked at Nemo again. He had strange tattoos across one arm, and his lean body was more muscular than I’d guessed. Blood matted his hair. He frowned at me.
“The question is, how big?” She tapped her knife on the palm of her hand. “Have we finally reached the top of this ridiculous little rebellion, Nemo?”
Nemo didn’t answer.
“Oh good.” Madame’s face was flushed, eyes bright. “I was hoping you’d do this the hard way.”
Bile rose in my throat as she sliced open his chest from his collarbone down to his navel.
He screamed hoarsely like he’d been screaming for a while.
I healed him with shaking hands when she gestured at me with the bloody knife, trying to breathe through my mouth to avoid Madame’s sickly sweet scent mixed with blood.
“Who is the leader?” Madame asked him once I finished.
He didn’t answer, and she grinned as she lifted her knife again. Panic gripped me as I realized this might be a long night.
Sure enough, Madame carved him up for hours. Eventually, she seemed to get bored and had her men start beating him. I healed him again and again, my ears ringing with the sounds of Nemo’s screams. My jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
You’re getting out of here. You’re getting out of here, I repeated in my head over and over.
It had to be close to dawn by the time she stopped. Nemo never said a word, but by the end, he slumped in the chair half-conscious, gasping in ragged breaths.
“Get him out of here,” Madame said. “We’ll do this again tomorrow.”
The men started unbuckling Nemo to drag him back to his cell.
I didn’t wait to be dismissed. I didn’t care if it pissed her off.
I turned on my heel and strode out the door, avoiding Mac’s gaze as I passed him.
She didn’t yell after me, but I heard her demanding that Mac stay.
As soon as I got out of the watchtower, I started to run.
When I reached the clinic, I slipped in, changed out of my bloody clothes, and threw on my warmest gear.
Then I reached into my mattress and pulled out my small stash of supplies, shoving them into a pack I’d swiped from a house visit.
Lastly, I folded up the quilt I’d grown so attached to and shoved it inside.
I hadn’t been able to figure out how to steal a bedroll, so the quilt would have to do.
I hesitated a moment, then grabbed the little wooden dandelion and packed it, too.
As soon as I had everything, I slipped out.
Thank the gods, the sun hadn’t risen yet, but it would any second.
The loggers had packed up the sleighs last night.
I’d been sure to walk past so I knew exactly where to go.
The horses nickered as I entered the stable, and Violet poked her head over the stall door.
A lump rose in my throat, but I darted to the sleigh waiting to be hitched up to the horses and slid under the heavy tarp.
I crawled across the sleigh bed, edging past the sharp tools.
Finally, I reached the wooden panel at the front, curled into the smallest ball I could, and waited, trying to ignore the dull pain in my back.
Only two minutes later, the tarp shifted and someone started crawling in like I had.
I reached down to my boot, sliding my knife out.
My entire self recoiled in horror at the idea of using it, but I couldn’t let this chance get away.
I clenched the knife handle, then exhaled in a shaky rush as I registered who it was.
Trey reached me, dressed in his warmest gear with a leather pack, complete with a bedroll strapped underneath it. He met my furious, shocked gaze with a calm expression.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed.
“Goin’ with you,” he said.
I gaped at him. “What?”
His eyes were solemn. “I’m goin’ with you, Bones.”
“You can’t—” I started to say, but then we both heard footsteps approaching and I went silent.
The loggers grumbled to one another as they hitched up the horses.
I stared at Trey, my brain spinning. When the sleigh jerked forward, I slid sideways, bumping against him with the movement.
He caught my arm and didn’t let go. I scowled at him as hard as I could, but he studied my expression with a small smile creeping over his face.
“It’s okay,” he mouthed.
We heard the loggers greeting the guards at the watchtower and both tensed, but then the gate groaned open.
The sleigh started moving again and I let out a tiny, shaky breath.
We’d made it through. From what I’d gathered, the loggers were traveling to a spot about three days’ journey away.
I planned on slipping out and disappearing when they stopped for the first night, but until then, I had to wait.
It’s okay? Honestly, what the fuck was Trey thinking?
What about Clarity? What about the kids at the clinic?
What about Mac and the rest of the crew?
Why would he leave them? He couldn’t come with me.
He couldn’t be anywhere near me. The whole point of this escape was to get as far away from Trey and everyone else at the Vault as possible.
Even worse, a selfish part of me wanted to cry with relief that I didn’t have to leave him behind.