Chapter Thirty
The fear threaded through each cell of my body, and I nodded. If I got thrown into the dungeons before I had time to find out what I needed, everyone’s sacrifices would mean nothing. My eyes met my grandmother’s gaze, and I let out a shaky breath.
I had to turn this around.
“I got curious,” I said softly. “I heard noises.”
“And what do you think you’ve seen?”
I shook my head. “I don’t actually know.”
“Well, let me show you.”
She drew my hand into hers, and my stomach clenched as she walked me deeper into the compound. She stopped in front of a wall, and her fingers traced a rune I hadn’t even seen. The wall slid open, and there was nothing but darkness ahead.
Had I already screwed things up? Was I about to be thrown into the dungeon?
She led me into the darkness and snapped her fingers with her free hand as torches lit our way through a hallway into a large room with what looked like cells.
Empty cells.
“What is this?”
She pulled my hand toward her as she walked to the first cell to our left.
To my surprise, there was someone in it. They weren’t empty at all. A goblin, not unlike Twobble or Skonk, stood in the back. His gaze slowly met mine, and I saw the hopelessness in his eyes. My heart twisted so tightly, I thought I’d faint.
“This goblin is not here by chance or by accident. He wasn’t here because he minded his own business or kept his opinions to himself. No, this goblin is here because he dared to speak against everything Shadowick offers its citizens.”
My throat clenched, and I swallowed it away. “How so?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll let him tell you, granddaughter.”
She snapped her fingers, and without hesitation, the goblin stepped forward to the iron.
“Name, goblin,” the Priestess snapped.
“Legner,” he said, keeping his gaze on mine.
“And what are you here for?”
His chin tipped up, and his tiny shoulders straightened.
“I stole bread from the bakery and delivered it to a family that needed it.” He moved his gaze to the Priestess. “And I don’t regret it.”
A wicked laugh escaped. “Oh, you know I wouldn’t keep you down here over a loaf of bread. Tell her everything.”
“There was a note attached.” His gaze met mine. “Telling them there was another way. That a village existed not too far from Shadowick, where knowledge is power and hope fills the streets.”
The tightness in my chest changed to something else…
She snapped her fingers. “And?”
“And Shadowick could become such a place if we all tried.” But his gaze didn’t drop. It held mine steady.
She drew a breath, and her chest puffed. Before I knew what was happening, she unfurled her finger and zapped him farther into the cell, his back slamming against the wall.
His eyes never left mine as my teeth ground together, and I fought back my urge to fight the Priestess, and the shadow mark approved.
My heart stopped at that revelation.
I scraped together logic, trying to find a reason for the shadow mark to calm. Maybe it had nothing to do with my resistance to the Priestess but with my ability to calm myself. I was sure it was nothing more than that.
I glanced at her as she took in my expression, and I nodded. “And the others?”
“Anyone who doesn’t enjoy Shadowick as it is creates friction, and friction creates disorder.” She waved her hands. “They’re all in here for various infractions. Similar in nature. Except for that one.”
She pointed at the far cell and walked toward it. My stomach felt sicker with every step.
“This one was the biggest disappointment.” She sighed dramatically. “She tried to poison me. My own staff, whom I housed here on the premises, tried to hurt me…of all people. And to think I did nothing but try to teach her.”
My gaze turned toward a small woman. She wasn’t a goblin, but she was…something. Possibly Elvin like Nova? Her green eyes settled on mine, and I didn’t see sorrow or defeat. I saw defiance.
I gave the woman a slight nod and turned to the Priestess. “What made you bring my mom to the dungeons?”
“Oh, that was merely a holding cell.” She shook her head. “I needed to teach her a lesson. After all, I’m her mom, right?”
I slowly slid my hands into my pockets so my grandmother couldn’t see my hands trembling.
With every part of me, I clenched my jaw and commanded myself not to let my anger turn into something more.
Usually, when I felt like this, vines erupted from the floors, and fire lit the sky, but that would prove no purpose here.
Not yet, anyway.
The shadow mark warmed beneath my clothes as if rewarding the restraint, and that only made my stomach churn harder.
It liked my silence, or it liked that I was learning how to keep the storm inside until it had somewhere useful to go.
Either way, I didn’t trust the mark.
“Why keep them in the dungeon?” I asked. “Why not do away with them?”
My grandmother’s gaze flared to life as a wicked smile spread across her features.
“Because they’re…useful.”
“How?”
The little woman in the far cell studied me without blinking.
Her hair was silver-white and braided over one shoulder, and she held one hand to her ribs like the movement of breathing took effort.
There was a bruise blooming along the side of her face, faintly green around the edges, and a tiny smear of blood at the corner of her mouth.
Still, she stared at the Priestess with the kind of hatred that could keep a person warm in winter.
I liked her immediately.
“Fear and anger are fuel for many things.” The Priestess glanced at me, and I knew she was deciding whether to be amused or annoyed.
The roots and vines…
I was right. They’re feeding.
“I don’t understand.”
“She was given every comfort.” She rolled her eyes.
“Except freedom.”
“Freedom is often wasted by those who don’t understand responsibility.”
The woman in the cell laughed once, a sharp sound that cut through the hallway, and the Priestess’ gaze snapped to her.
I felt the magic gather in my fingertips as my hands tightened around the pebbles Twobble had given me. The urge to find out what the pebbles could do was becoming almost unbearable.
The shadow mark pulsed.
Hard.
The cell bars trembled faintly, and the woman’s eyes flicked to me.
She’d noticed, and so had the goblin called Legner.
And so had my grandmother.
The Priestess’ mouth curved slowly as she returned her attention to me.
“There it is,” she said coyly, which made me nauseous.
“What?” I shook my head.
“Your inheritance.” Her smile turned into a wicked grin.
I rolled my eyes and unclenched my fingers in my pockets. “My inheritance is a headache and a list of people who lie in riddles.”
“Your humor hides the truth poorly.” She stepped closer.
“I’m not kidding.” I looked around the dungeon, trying to regain my composure.
“You felt Shadowick answer you. We all did.” She took a step back and glanced at the woman in the cell.
“I felt a draft.” I shrugged, refusing to admit exactly what I felt because the truth was that I didn’t know.
“Lie better, Maeve.” Her eyes focused on me, narrowing to slits. “Lie better.”
The shadow mark flared again, sending a ribbon of heat across my ribs and down my hip. It stopped at my butterfly mark, and I straightened. Was she connecting to me somehow, or had the shadow mark done that on its own?
Maybe it was nothing.
But I felt something inside me stir, more powerful…
more controlled. The hedge magic pulsed through me, and for a second, I saw the bars in front of the woman’s cell as something alive.
Rooted. Fed from below. The iron wasn’t simply holding her in.
It was drinking from her anger, from her defiance, from every breath she took while refusing to bend.
The realization nearly made me sick.
I looked back at Legner, who stood steady again even after being slammed against the wall. His small chin was still raised, though his thin fingers gripped the bars hard enough to blanch greenish at the knuckles.
“These cells feed the compound,” I said softly.
The Priestess’ expression stilled.
Well.
That answered that.
The little woman’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Is that so?”
The Priestess turned her head slowly. “Careful.”
I stepped forward and glanced at the woman before turning to look at my grandmother.
“Why? Because I’m getting close to something true?”
“Because truth without context makes fools feel righteous,” she said as she cocked her head slightly and gave a withering look to the woman.
“You’re sounding a little biblical,” I muttered, which made her gaze snap to mine.
“You think it’s okay that she tried to poison me merely because she didn’t agree with me?”
I took a slow breath, letting the anger settle into something colder.
I couldn’t free them yet. I couldn’t burn the place down.
I couldn’t give her the reaction she wanted, even though everything in me begged for it.
But maybe if they heard that they were helping to feed the compound and possibly more, they’d be able to control the fear a little more.
“What do you truly want?” I asked, ignoring her question like she’d done to me countless times.
The Priestess’ eyes narrowed slightly, and for the first time since entering the dungeons, I saw surprise.
It was quick, barely there, but I saw it.
“You know what I want.”
“No, I know what you say you want. Power. Control. Revenge. To be obeyed. To prove Stonewick wrong.” I looked around the cells, at Legner, at the woman with the shadowed face, at the cells between with various creatures huddled in the corners. “But that’s all decoration. What do you actually want?”
The dungeon went quiet in a way that felt dangerous.
If I didn’t know better, even the faint drips of water from somewhere deeper in the walls seemed to pause. But that wasn’t possible, was it? The place couldn’t be that living…
The Priestess watched me carefully and walked over to Legner’s cell.
“Such confidence,” she murmured. “You ask as if you’re entitled to answers. But you haven’t earned them yet.”