13. Awakening #2
Hester’s eyes squeezed tight, and she finally nodded. I shuffled over to the exit with her assistance. As soon as we opened it, the discussion ceased.
It was definitely an argument. Officer Brandt’s face was flushed red, and his mouth formed a thin line. Egan nodded in a quick jerk.
“Would you both give us a moment?” he said to the officer, then looked pointedly at Hester.
“You will have to keep her upright,” Hester warned.
Egan slid in beside me, hand on my waist. She retreated, shocked. Egan clasped my hand while keeping his other arm around me. His nose grazed my temple.
“I heard of your Awakening as soon as I returned from the North. How has it been?”
I swayed toward him, holding his hand harder.
“Wonderful,” I mumbled sarcastically.
His scent touched my senses. A pleasant tickle in my nose. I was so busy trying to place his scent that he continued sniffing me.
“What is it?” I stiffened from his proximity.
“You smell good. You always have, but now?” He inhaled harder, and on the heels of it, he groaned. “You smell of sunshine. How is that possible?”
I swayed, my knees giving out. It forced me against him until his body pressed against my side. After my experience with Cassiel, I knew exactly what that prod against my side was. I pulled away so quickly that my hip screamed and I toppled.
“Amara!” Hester cried and rushed toward me. Egan was already grabbing my arm to right me, but I leaned toward Hester.
“We should get back before,” I mumbled, and shivers began assaulting my frame.
A chill climbed over my skin. My vision wavered, and I relied on Hester’s guidance. Her arm wrapped around my waist.
“Take care with her,” Egan ordered. “When I have another moment to get away, I will come see you.” His lips rubbed against the shell of my ear. I followed the press of Hester’s arm pushing me forward. It took all my will to keep my knees locked.
“I will go in the front to catch her if she falls,” Officer Brandt said, but I did not have the strength to answer him, much less thank him.
I swayed, and the ground went out from under me. I was in free fall. Arms caught me, carrying me. My thoughts continued to come in fragments, the discomfort in my bones growing.
“Hand her to me!” Cassiel snapped from a distance.
Then the true pain began. I believed I had felt it before, but I was mistaken. My bones had been set aflame.
“Ah, this must be the final part,” Al crowed, voice muffled as if he spoke from a distance.
I did not know where I mustered the strength to lift my head. Officer Brandt had a hold of my waist, and one side of my body leaned against him. We took a few more staggering steps forward, then he came to a complete halt.
I managed to pry my eyes open. Officer Brandt’s head was turned toward me, nose flaring.
A loud snarl vibrated the surface of the pane. “Do not.”
Threat coated Cassiel’s voice. He strained against the chain, staring down the officer, the red of his eyes pulsing into the gold.
Officer Brandt hoisted me toward the division between Cassiel and myself until a pane separated us.
“Will you be able to stand on your own?”
I nodded, and even that small move felt like a boulder had taken up residence over my head. He let me go, and the ground tilted. He managed to grab my arm before I collided with stone.
“I guess not,” I slurred.
“I will enter with her,” Hester announced.
She came close and tucked herself under my arm, gripping my wrist that was over her other shoulder.
Officer Brandt sighed in relief, retreating to the crank to open the first slot of the cell.
I could no longer hold my head up, and I used every bit of strength to move forward.
The swish of the closing glass pane informed me we were through the first section.
“I will be back after a small doze. From what I know, this final part of the process takes hours.” Al yawned and steps shuffled.
“Officer, keep an eye on them.” He walked over to the gas lamp, twisted the little knob at the front that extinguished the flame, then he did the same to the other four hanging from embedded hooks around the chamber.
All of them, except for a single one beside the bookshelf entrance.
“Come now,” Hester murmured, pulling me into the cell. A chill traveled up my arms. “Can you walk to him?” Her hand was tight and trembling.
She was scared. I nodded, or did something that felt like it, and straightened. With one step, I was toppling.
“Just do not kill me, Your Highness,” she mumbled, bracing me the rest of the way.
My feet were taken out from under me, and Cassiel’s leather smell filled my nose. I could not cease shaking.
“Fetch Drusilla,” he snarled at Hester.
“Do not shout at her.” Moving my mouth hurt.
I whimpered. My eyes stung, and the searing pinch spread deep under my skin. I screamed, curling with sobs ripping from my mouth, and still he held me.
“Yes, Your Highness!” Hester shouted.
His chest vibrated from the force, but his voice sounded far off, as if he was muffled by a wall between us. His arms flexed around me.
‘I have you.’ He continued to rub my side with smooth, gliding touches. Eventually, even the chill of his body felt good. It was odd. I knew he was cold, but the sensation settled the iciness in my chest until it was . . . right?
Another bone-deep attack seized my frame. Cassiel had yet to release me since they shoved me in here.
The temperature seemed to continue to drop. I wasn’t sure how, but the chamber had become insufferably cold. I shook so hard my teeth clicked together. My bones, something that should be unmoving, seemed to pulse.
I was going to combust.
A scream ripped from between my lips. So sharp it hurt my ears. I shoved and writhed on Cassiel’s lap.
“Amara,” he growled. I could hear him, but he sounded much too far away.
I swatted at his touch. “Let me go.” The words came out slurred and jumbled.
“Saints, if you do not wake,” he hissed.
Why is he so angry?
I mumbled something, but I did not know what came out. Swatting at him resulted in him capturing my hand again.
“. . . son?” That voice.
I wheezed out a breath, grasping to find my footing.
“Release her or she will take you into death with her,” Drusilla begged.
“I will go happily.”
“How you disappoint me.” Drusilla’s frustration mingled with anger. I had no doubt she truly cared for her son in her twisted way.
“Please, Tasalia,” Cassiel said, voice even. She jolted, a crack in her softened features. Her true name.
Silence other than my ragged breathing. I want nothing from her. I tried to push the words free but was unsuccessful.
Another wave of snaps caused my limbs to stiffen. A scream built in my throat. Sweat drenched every inch of my body, and insects seemed to be crawling over my flesh. I whimpered.
‘Shh, mortal. You will be well.’
In my head, his voice sounded so soft, determined, tender, angry. It rounded through various tones, yet it tethered me. As much as I craved giving into the pain, and letting it take me away, he did not let it happen.
He would not let me go.
“My ability will not work on an Awakening, but I will see what I can bring you,” Drusilla finally said.
The sound of clinking metal rubbing against cement became louder. I did not have the strength to lift my head. Another round of agony wracked my insides, bringing with it a beat of clarity. I was still lying on Cassiel’s lap.
“Al had a potion to render her unconscious.”
Hester?
A soft touch on my chin came, then a cold lip of a glass touched my mouth. I turned my head away. He reached out, captured my face, and pried open my mouth by pressing against the side of my cheek. I gasped and liquid sloshed.
“Drink it,” he ordered.
My breathing cut off from the sour taste.
I tried to move my head, but his hand clamped over my mouth didn’t allow it.
“Saints, Amara, drink!”
My vision swam. Right before it completely went, I did as he said, just as he lifted his hand. I coughed, the taste of the liquid upon my tongue.
“You oafish beast.” I slapped my palm down on his chest.
I gagged, the thick, cold liquid traveling downward, and with it came sweet relief.
Cassiel wound his arm over my shoulders, tucking me under his arm. As much as I did not want to give into his warmth, I did. I exhaled shakily at the bone-deep ache caused by his touch. It had not disappeared, but in his arms, it felt manageable.
“What did you force me to drink?” I accused.
“It will help you.”
“All it is doing . . .” I slurred, shaking my head.
His face wobbled into view, then he swept me into his arms, carrying me to the cot and settling me down. I twisted onto my side, tucking my hand under my cheek.
“Are you well?” It was as if he spoke underwater.
Bit by bit, my mind wandered. I could still feel pain, but it was as if it were covered by a sheet. Still, Cassiel remained near.
The bloom in my stomach trembled. The wilted, near-dead petals began to revive.