TWENTY-TWO
WILLOW
Plop. Plop. Plop.
I stir awake with a groan as the dripping noise grows louder. My mouth is dry, and my eyes are tight like I’ve cried for a whole day. My head throbs, feeling like it’s been split in half.
I’m thirsty. So thirsty .
A moan escapes me as I look ahead, noticing thick black bars. A gasp bursts out of me, and I sit upright.
“No.” I thought it was a dream.
I thought I was imagining what’d happened in Caz’s office.
The Council appearing.
Vassilis with his cold hands wrapped around me and a blade to my throat.
The hopelessness in Caz’s eyes when he realized his own hands were tied.
I work to swallow as I climb off the mattress and rush toward the bars. I’m in a cell—a prisoner’s cell, it seems. My teeth chatter, and my bare feet feel like slabs of ice.
I turn back around, facing the wall made of wet black bricks and the single bed made of wood with a thin, feather-stuffed mattress.
There’s a window about the size of a laptop above the bed. Water drips from the bottom ledge and lands in a puddle on the floor. I rush toward it and step on the mattress to peer outside.
There is nothing but snowcapped mountains with sharp tips cutting into the sky. The wind howls as it passes, birds flying frantically to reach warmth. I stand on my toes to see a bit lower, but all I can make out is the outside of the stone building I’m in. There’s nothing but snow and a frozen river beyond it.
I lower back down and try to tap in with Caz.
Caz? Can you hear me? I’m fine…I’m in a prisoner’s cell I think, but I’m fine.
The words echo. I try again, but this time they bounce back to me.
“No, come on. Tell me you can hear me, Caz,” I groan.
“He can’t hear you,” a gravelly voice says.
I gasp, spinning around to face the prison bars.
“Who’s there?” I demand.
Something scuffs along the ground, and I realize the voice is coming from the cell across from me. To my relief, Killian appears. His lip is busted, and a dark purple bruise circles his left eye.
“Gotta say, Willow. I’ve dealt with a lot of shit, but I’ve never been locked up in a damn ice box.” His voice is gruff, like he too is thirsty. I almost didn’t recognize it.
I want to smile, simply for the fact that someone I know and trust is here with me, but I can’t. “Killian, I’m so sorry you’re here,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in all this mess with The Council.”
“If I’d come back to the manor ten minutes later. They’d have never taken me, and I’d be helping Caz rectify this.” He sniffs, and a pang of guilt hits me. “But it’s a good thing I didn’t. Someone has to be around to take care of you. I don’t trust these silver-eyed fucks.”
I smile as Killian smirks. “Thank you. Really.”
“Caz won’t hear you,” he says, disregarding my thanks. “I heard them talking when I came to. They’ve restrained your mind and your thoughts. They want to make sure he doesn’t hear you, or that he doesn’t find a way to break us out of here. They want him completely cut off from you because not knowing what’s happening to you makes him desperate. And knowing him, he’ll do anything to get you back. Anything .”
“Oh.” I press my lips and lower my gaze. “How long was I asleep for?”
“Two days.”
“ Two days? ” I repeat. “How? I thought it was only a couple hours.”
“No. Days.”
Days? I don’t understand how that’s possible. It seems like what happened at the manor with The Council was only yesterday. I start to ask Killian something else but a clunking noise carries through the hallway.
Killian stands taller, peering through the bars, trying to find where the noise is coming from.
I look with him, and though I can’t see anything, I hear footsteps coming closer. They’re light and slow, as if the person has no worries and is in absolutely no rush.
“Ah. Good. You’re awake.” Arie appears, stopping on the strip between our cells with a cool smile. “I do apologize for having you stowed away in here. We had to be sure Monarch Harlow didn’t turn around. Turns out he’s only about twenty minutes from Inferno Isle.”
Neither Killian nor I say a thing. We simply stare at Arie—Killian with a grimace and fire in his eyes, and me with burning curiosity.
“Anyway, you may be our prisoners, but we’re not savages. We’ve had two chambers prepared for you to stay in until your monarch has returned.”
Arie takes a grand step back, his eyes flashing silver. Just like that, the doors of our cells swing open with soft creaks.
I don’t move.
This feels like a trick—like if we step out, we’ll be melted by his eyes or something. My eyes flicker to Killian’s who clearly feels the same way because he hasn’t moved an inch.
“Oh, be serious,” Arie chuckles. “I have no desire to hurt you. Now come along,” he purrs, turning away. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
Arie wanders down the hall without looking back.
When Killian decides to move, so do I.
“Think it’s a trap?” I ask him in a whisper.
Killian scans the area and proceeds with caution. “Most likely.”
“Why would they let us roam freely?”
“Who knows. The Council is always making games of things.” Killian walks a step or two ahead of me. “I can take that fucker down without an issue and get us both out of here.”
Arie stops at towering silver doors and draws them apart without a touch. On the other side are two guards dressed in gleaming silver armor. I notice the knives strapped to their sides, and for a split second, I picture myself snatching one of them out and stabbing Arie in the back. I’m willing to do anything to get the hell out of here.
When we’re close to passing the guards, I feel my fingers twitching. Just one swipe, I’m sure that’s all it’ll take. They aren’t even looking at us.
Before I can take action, a grunt sounds beside me, and I leap back as Killian does exactly what I’d planned to do.
With a sword in hand, he kicks the guard closest to him in the chest and sends him flailing backwards. The other guard withdraws his sword, and I take a few more steps back.
“Love of Vakeeli!” Arie shouts. He raises a hand in the air, and I’m shocked when the guard in front of Killian rises in the air and is thrown across the room outside the prison cells.
“Let us go. Right now,” Killian demands, pointing the tip of the wide sword at Arie.
Arie sighs and crosses his arms behind his back as he stalks toward us. He doesn’t stop walking, not even when the tip of Killian’s sword is pressing into his belly. Blood oozes from his stomach, but he doesn’t react. He simply stares at Killian, who is just as perplexed as I am as the sword lodges into his abdomen.
“If you will not behave, Killian Harlow, then I will have no choice but to toss you back into that freezing cold cell.” Arie looks him over, and when his eyes flash a striking silver, Killian’s sword vanishes. Killian backs away with a scowl. “You think you can escape, but you are wrong. We drew some of your blood while you were in a comatose state. Yours and Willow’s. With that blood, we have bound you to this castle, and that bond will not break until we see fit. That means if you try to leave—if you dare to escape—you will die as soon as you set foot outside of this castle.”
“You piece of shit,” Killian snarls.
Arie looks Killian from head to toe. “You want to hate me. I get it. But all of this can be so simple if you let it.” He peers over his shoulder as if searching for someone, then he moves closer to Killian. “My brother and sister will kill you if you show any sign of retaliation. The last thing I want is more drama with the only chosen child who has the power to awake our creator. You know exactly how ruthless and unforgiving Monarch Harlow can be. Someone with a personality like his holding that much power is not someone I want to make enemies with.”
“It’s too late for that,” Killian says.
“Do you think I wish his wrath on me?” Arie’s nostrils flare, and that nonchalant fa?ade of his chips away. “No. That’s why I suggested the chambers. Why I suggested bringing you both to dinner so that this isn’t a completely horrid experience for either of you. Now please make this simple by cooperating. So long as you don’t fight, my siblings won’t either.”
“Why suggest those things?” Killian asks, clinging to a grimace. “Why help us?”
“I may be a part of The Council, Killian, but I know when not to cross the line. My siblings, however, don’t believe such lines exist. When this is all over, I can only hope that your monarch at least spares me any suffering because of my generosity.” Arie turns on his heels, but I don’t miss the smirk that sweeps over his lips. “If he makes it back alive, that is.”