Chapter 13 #2
“Yes,” I answer through clenched teeth.
She claps her hands. “Excellent! Well, I certainly won’t tell him… yet. I’d much rather watch Leon eternally bind himself to someone who doesn’t even want him. Misery is such an elegant punishment. Of course, I’ll want something in exchange for my silence.”
Something tells me that whatever Lilanthara wants won’t bode well for my future. She doesn’t leave me hanging for long.
“I want your silence. You don’t tell Leon about the little game we’re going to play, and I won’t tell him your secret.”
My brow furrows. “Why? You already have leverage. Why are you looking for more?”
She tilts her head, looking at me like I’m missing the obvious. “Because a silly little blade isn’t enough. I want complete control.”
I peer over at Nymara, looking for some sign that she isn’t going to run off and tell Leon everything she’s just heard.
Her eyes are squeezed shut, like she’s trying to block something out.
That’s… promising?
“Now tell me,” Lilanthara snaps, and my attention returns to her. She taps a clawed finger to her lips. “What are you afraid of?”
I thought the fae were supposed to be clever in how they worded things. Isn’t that the basis for a bunch of fairytales? Yet her question is vague enough that I think I have another loophole.
Sure, I could admit that I’m haunted by the fear that the Council will capture Sin. But that’s my worst fear, and Lilanthara didn’t specifically ask for that.
“Small spaces.” I keep my eyes downcast, hoping she won’t prod further.
Lilanthara jumps up from her chair. “Excellent!”
The action startles my attention back to the twisted fairy, as she all but skips to the door. Her wings flutter excitedly. “Follow me,” she calls in a sing-song voice.
My body complies without thought, and there’s a sick feeling in my stomach as we stride out of the room. The guard doesn’t try to stop us. Apparently, I’m allowed to leave, so long as I have a babysitter with me.
I’d rather run in the opposite direction, but my feet continue to pull me after Lilanthara, thanks to Leon’s order that I listen to the inner circle.
Peeking over my shoulder, I’m surprised to find Nymara silently following. Her hands are clenched together, and her eyes are still glued to the floor. She’s clearly afraid of Lilanthara, but she’s still coming along?
I just can’t figure her out. Magnus would call her an enigma. Then again, Conner would probably joke that she has a kink for watching people get tortured. The thoughts of my friends ground me.
My friends, my realms, my home.
I’m eighty-two percent sure I’m about to be tortured. But I can take it. They are counting on me.
Lilanthara leads us through the halls, taking care to avoid the common areas.
The few well-dressed people we meet stare at her with open admiration, clearly enthralled by the Creator.
She preens under their gaze and touches each of their hands with the tip of her nail.
Their jaws drop at the gesture, and one woman starts to cry tears of joy and whispers about being blessed.
When they look at me, I only have enough time to give them a small smile before we start walking again. We pass a few servants, but unsurprisingly, she doesn’t stop to show them the same attention. I try to smile at each of them.
We eventually enter a part of the castle that looks deserted. There was a guard at the entrance of this castle wing, but otherwise it’s strangely quiet. My unease mounts.
Finally, Lilanthara stops in a random hall. It’s identical to the dozens we’ve already passed, with the same intricately carved trim framing fancy wainscotting.
This place doesn’t seem special, but I’m saved from wondering what we’re doing here when she reaches for a carving of a screaming man, hidden amongst the other patterns in the trim. She presses on its jaw, and a sharp click answers. With it, a panel on the wall swings inwards.
It’s a secret passage.
My heart skips a beat. Not from surprise (it’s a castle – secret passages are basically mandatory), but because this is the closest I’ve gotten to searching for Irena.
Still, I try to keep my expression concerned, not wanting to give the evil twin any reason to suspect that her mind games aren’t working.
The concern grows more genuine when Lilanthara plucks a golden orb from a wall sconce and steps into the very narrow stairway.
My breathing quickens as I follow. The usual creepy-passageway sounds are absent, and somehow, that only adds to my anxiety.
We descend into suffocating darkness.
The air tastes stale, and even our footsteps are swallowed by the dark.
When we finally reach the bottom, Lilanthara opens an old wooden door that opens into a hallway lined with doors.
Some are normal-sized, but others are barely big enough for a dog.
The corridor stretches on past the orb’s glow, the end swallowed by the dark void.
The hair on my arms stands on end as I stare down into the silent abyss – until a garbled static whisper breaks out, right behind my ear.
I almost scream, jumping at least half a foot before whirling around to look at Nymara. I assumed she made the sound, but she’s still staring at the ground.
She’s really committed to this whole ‘if I can’t see you, maybe you can’t see me’ bit.
Lilanthara continues into the corridor, giving no hint that she heard a thing. I follow, now even more worried.
I’m losing it.
I’m saved from wondering how much sanity I have left to lose when Lilanthara stops in front of one of the smaller doors.
My focus snaps back to the topic at hand. Right – torture and impending doom.
A whimper crawls up my throat as I finally piece together what she’s planning.
Lilanthara’s smile twists even further, warped by the golden glow of the orb that’s pressed to her chest. “The Council has undergone so many improvements over the centuries, and yet, they love to keep the older artifacts around. Perhaps it’s nostalgia.
For example,” she holds out her free arm and does a small twirl, her skirts swishing against the damp stone walls.
“This was once part of the prisons. They’ve since expanded and moved to a different part of the castle, of course.
Now, this entire area is unused. Why, most people have forgotten it even exists. It’s a waste, really.”
She unlatches the small door’s deadbolt and swings it open. The orb illuminates the space just enough for me to see it’s no bigger than a small cabinet.
My eyes widen, and my legs start to lock up. Going in there is a one-way ticket to a panic attack.
No, thank you.
She takes in the slight change in my expression, and her pink eyes gleam.
“Get in,” she orders.
“Please, don’t,” I beg, even as I start to crawl inside.
When I’m halfway in, I pause, realizing this is enough to satisfy the order. The pause is all my body needs for the fear paralysis to take over.
“Well that just won’t do. Get all the way in.” Her heel shoves me, even as my body follows her order. The moment I’m inside, she slams the door, and there’s a metallic scrape as the deadbolt slides into place.
I twist in the tiny space, my shoulder scraping against stone. It’s too cramped to turn fully, and my legs are pinned at an awkward angle.
My breaths start coming in shallow and fast, but I don’t miss Lilanthara’s hiss, “Open this door before the sun has set, and you will wish you were never born.”
She must be talking to Nymara.
“Oh… and Vivian?” She adds, almost as an afterthought. “Go ahead and scream as much as your heart desires. The prisons were built to hold in the sound. No one is going to hear you.”
I’m hyperventilating now, and I barely catch the end of her words. The darkness inside the tiny closet is only eased by the slightest crack above the door, and between my rapid breaths, I realize the light is getting fainter. Holding my breath, I strain to hear anything beyond my own panic.
“Have a blessed day, Vivian, and welcome to the family,” Lilanthara calls.
And then, everything goes pitch black.