Chapter 4
“It’s not safe for you to go exploring on your own without a team,” Emin said.
“I have done it plenty of times,” Amelia replied. “Sir,” she added as an afterthought.
The memory was still fresh. It wasn’t safe, but she rarely listened to good advice.
She sat up slowly. The world swam around her, then gradually the cell came into focus. The door and window were barred. She was a prisoner yet again, though this cell was far less comfortable.
She stood and wobbled towards the window, one hand against the wall to steady herself. Why did she feel so weak? What had he done to her?
The cell was high above the grey sea, where waves crashed against the cliff. She could taste the salt on her lips, taunting her thirst.
The door to her prison creaked open, and the tall, raven-haired fae strolled in. She instinctively retreated.
One corner of his mouth twitched. His expression sharpened.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“This is the Wildlands. You may find it a little… different from where you were before,” he replied, gesturing around the dim cell.
“What happened to the others? Did you kill them?”
He laughed.
“No, but they won’t be coming to help you. Now it’s my turn to ask the questions. Where did you come from?”
“You captured me. You should know,” she replied, a little testily, folding her arms so he could not see her fingers digging into her palms.
“You’re remarkably calm for someone who’s been taken prisoner,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Dark limbal rings sharpened the blue of his irises.
“You clearly need me alive, or I assume I’d already be dead.”
His eyes took on a dangerous gleam.
“Ah, a human with a brain. How unique. We can do this the hard way if you’d prefer. I’d certainly find it more entertaining.” He smirked. She recoiled, folding her arms across the skin exposed by her torn clothes.
His mouth twitched. He stepped closer until the musky scent of cedar overwhelmed her.
“Where did you come from?” He enunciated the words slowly beside her ear, each one laced with threat.
“Elderarth,” she whispered.
“Really? How?” he whispered back.
“There was a cave.”
“Near Alarrdrassyl?” He pulled back when she didn’t answer.
She looked at him blankly.
“The holy town you were escorted from,” he added.
She shouldn’t be telling him these details. It felt like betrayal, not only to her own kind but to Vesryn and the others. He clearly was no friend of theirs, and although they were no friends of hers, they had treated her more civilly.
She remained quiet.
“You know, if you don’t tell me, I can just burn it out of you, human. I could set your whole mind alight,” he said, pressing a finger to her temple.
What did he mean? Pain radiated through her skull, intensifying until she squeezed her eyes shut. A whimper escaped her.
The pain stopped. She opened her eyes, and he stepped back, his head tilted, his brows knitted in confusion. Abruptly, he turned and stormed from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
*
The silence grew. She’d been on edge, jumping at every noise, waiting for his return.
Guards had come and gone, leaving her bread and water, but the dark-haired fae hadn’t come back.
She had to escape before he did. She never wanted to feel that pain again.
It had felt as though a white-hot blade had sliced through her brain. Even the memory made her head ache.
Was he toying with her, intentionally prolonging the dread of his return?
The room was small, dirty, and empty, except for a pot in the corner and the hard, narrow bed on which she sat.
The bed at least had a mattress—a large sack filled with straw—and a sheet.
She looked out of the barred window again.
The darkening grey sky blended with the rough sea.
She was at least three storeys above ground level.
The stone walls suggested that she was imprisoned in some kind of fortress.
The waves below crashed aggressively against the rocks.
She put her arm through the bars. Perhaps she could fit her body through them, but how would she get down from this height?
She scanned the room, mentally cataloguing its contents, searching for something she could use.
Her eyes landed on the bed. She rushed over to it and began tearing the sheet into long strips.
If she could make some kind of rope, she might be able to lower herself to the rocks below.
She worked quickly, using her teeth when necessary, sorting the strips into sets of three, then twisted and braided the cotton together.
Voices sounded from the corridor. She froze.
They faded into the distance, and she pressed her ear against the door to make sure they’d gone. Once the corridor fell silent again, she resumed work on the makeshift rope, braiding as fast as her fingers would allow. There was no time to test it. She could only hope and pray that it would hold.
She tied one end of the braided rope around a window bar and the other end around her waist. It wasn’t very long, but she hoped it would allow her to get far enough down the wall that she’d survive the landing.
She sat on the window ledge, sliding her legs sideways through the bars until her whole body was free.
The cool wind from the sea made her pause.
“Don’t look down,” she whispered to herself, fixing her attention on the next handhold.
She lowered herself, clinging to the edge, digging her feet into the wall. Her fingers found narrow gaps between the stones. The familiar act of climbing made her think of her father.
As a girl, he’d taken her on adventures. She’d loved exploring mountainous terrain, climbing rock faces, feeling the adrenaline. What would he make of this strange land? She wished she could talk to him.
She continued her slow descent. If she fell here, she’d almost certainly die. The wind howled around her, blowing her long brown hair into her eyes. She hoped that the sound of the wind and the sea would cover any noise she made.
She climbed down. The stone cut into her fingertips. She’d made it a third of the way when her foot slipped against the stone, forcing her to clutch the makeshift rope. It held, but there wasn’t much rope left. Then she spotted the guard patrolling the ramparts above.
Another window was cut into the wall beneath her. She climbed down onto its ledge, hoping that the room it belonged to was empty, and hid, praying the guard wouldn’t notice the rope.
She untied the rope from her waist and looked down. She did not have far left to descend, but jagged rocks met the base of the wall where waves broke over them.
She closed her eyes, steeling herself, and lowered herself down again. The wind blew wildly, threatening to knock her off. There was no rope to secure her if she fell.
She released a shuddering breath as she reached the bottom and pressed herself against the cold stone, hugging it, taking careful steps as she followed the wall around.
Her foot slipped on the sea-sprayed rocks. She fell, scraping the side of her leg against a jagged edge. Pain blurred her vision as she held back her anguished scream. She had to pick herself up and keep going.
Beyond the rocks lay the narrow beach, and beyond that lay the forest.
The thought of entering through those trees made her hesitate, but there was little choice; there was nowhere else to go. It was the only source of cover.
The grey stone fortress towered behind her.
It rose from the cliffs like an oppressive monolith, swallowing all light.
Turrets stood at each corner, their rounded roofs tapering to a sharp point that reached into the clouds.
Guards patrolled the walls above, and she waited until they went out of view.
It was almost dark; they would soon discover she was missing. Imagining his reaction brought a smirk to her face. The thought made her move faster.
She climbed down the rocks, hiding in their shadows, until she reached the pebbled beach. The rising tide soaked her feet.
She bolted across the beach, stumbling over the pebbles, into the cover of the treeline.
She glanced back. Shouts echoed in the distance.
She sprinted through the forest, sticking close to the edge to follow the coast. Her lungs burned, but she kept running until her mouth turned dry.
The knowledge that they would hunt her down spurred her on.
The moon was the only source of light, casting shadows through the trees. She slowed to catch her breath, then spent the night alternating between running and walking until the sun rose, ignoring how her legs screamed in protest.
She hunkered down in the safety of some bushes to rest and must have fallen asleep, because she awoke with a jolt. It was full daylight. How long had she been asleep?
She slowly raised her head from the bushes, scanning the forest for any movement.
All was quiet.
A pain shot through her leg, reminding her of her injury. She inspected the wound, gently peeling away the torn edges of her trousers, which had stuck to it with dried blood. She needed to find water. Her best chance was to move further into the forest.
Vesryn’s warning remained with her. Every crack of a twig froze her in place.
The trees loomed above her, ancient oaks with thick trunks covered in ivy, mercifully providing her with shade from the afternoon sun. Through the birdsong, she heard the hiss of running water. She hurried towards the welcome sound.
She dropped beside the stream, cupped water in her hands and drank greedily. After splashing her face, she poured some of the water onto her wound, peeling her trousers from the dry, crusted blood.
The stream was the closest thing she had to a plan. She didn’t know which direction to take. During the night, the Northern Star had remained behind her. The stream ran deeper into the forest, and Amelia hesitated to follow it.
There was no sign of pursuit.
The day was slipping back into shadow. She needed to find somewhere safe to rest.