Chapter 2
The small boat glides effortlessly across the whitecaps of the Farlum River. My eyes water from the brackish air. The stench of the festering island ahead so overwhelms me that I nearly vomit.
The boat sails between the breakwaters that shelter the only entrance to Halazar.
As we glide into a cove, a large portcullis looms overhead, like a beast that’s devouring me.
The last time I arrived, it was with much less fanfare.
Now nearly twenty guards line the U shape of the stone dock.
At the very top of a wide, terraced staircase is a set of fortified double doors.
And in front of those doors stands a man.
The first time I came here, he couldn’t be bothered. I was just another prisoner of many.
Now Glavstone waits for me, eyes gleaming in the torchlight. The sight of him makes my skin crawl.
The two Stellis hoist me out of the boat. I don’t resist, but I certainly don’t comply, either. Ravin disembarks alongside me and greets Glavstone with a familiar handshake. The warden of Halazar Prison barely takes his eyes off me long enough to show the prince proper respect.
“I assured you that it would be done, did I not?” There’s a note of pride in Ravin’s tone, and a note of condescension when he adds, “All it required was a bit of patience.”
“A bit of patience…and the death of my son.” Glavstone is trying so hard to keep his voice calm and level.
But I know him too well. I can hear the contempt he’s trying to hide in each strained word.
See it in the tension that makes the muscles of his throat strain as he clenches his jaw.
He loathes me as much as he loathes the sum cost of my recapture.
It’s incredible that he doesn’t immediately cast a card my way.
“A grave and lamentable loss that had to come to pass.” Ravin does a good job of feigning compassion. “But I swore that you would have your vengeance for Eza’s death, and now I bring it to you. As you can see, it has already begun.” Ravin gestures to my beaten state with pride.
The shackles weigh me down. The Stellis’s hands are heavy on my shoulders. It’s as though everything is trying to force me into the ground. To crush my existence into dust. But they’re going to have to work harder. I smirk slightly and lock eyes with Glavstone.
Glavstone sees my expression for what it is: a challenge. The vein in his temple bulges.
“To my office,” he announces. “For processing.”
Two Halazar guards lead the way. The halls are hazy with smoke from torches and thick with grime. I’ve been out for long enough that I can again smell the stink that clots the air. To think that my nose had become so used to it that I couldn’t smell it when I last left.
Ravin walks ahead of me and alongside Glavstone, lazily holding my leash. The two Stellis take up the rear. No one says anything.
We come to the rough, worn door that looms so large in my worst nightmares. Glavstone unlocks it with a key from a ring attached to his belt.
“Wait here,” Ravin commands the Stellis before we enter.
They assume positions in the hallway opposite the door as it shuts behind Glavstone, Ravin, and me.
When it’s only the three of us, Ravin continues, “She’s to go to the dungeons immediately and not to be removed under any circumstances. Put her in level three, cell four.”
“The dungeons?” Glavstone looks between me and the prince. “Did you not bring her to me so that I might kill her?”
Surprise, I think dryly. I almost say it.
“We are not killing her,” Ravin says.
“Your highness—”
Ravin lifts a hand, stopping him. “Not yet, at least.”
“Why?” An ominous shadow crosses Glavstone’s face. He’s so mad that I’m still breathing, and I love it.
“She has value to us alive. We are good at extracting information and utility from our tools. You proved that to me when she was last here.” Ravin speaks so calmly, as if he’s merely planning another soiree.
“There are other ‘tools’ we can use.” Glavstone’s words have taken on an unsettling quiet. He’s planning a way around this. I wonder if Ravin truly doesn’t see it.
“Her Major card is particularly useful, albeit unpredictable. We can force her to make it for us, as you had her make cards before. If she refuses, break her until she does not.” Ravin shrugs. “And at the very least, then she can be used to draw out my brother. He does seem…genuinely fond of her.”
The mention of Kaelis puts me back in the passageway of Arcana Academy on my way to find Silas hours ago. Kaelis is there, barely visible in a sliver of moonlight. His mouth on mine. A kiss that tastes like goodbye.
The second prince won’t be coming for me, not after the way I exposed myself at the Feast of Cups. It’d be too risky for him. The ache in my chest at the thought is worse than any of the lingering pain from Ravin’s beating.
“There are other ways to get at your brother.”
“That is for me to decide.” Ravin’s tone takes on an air of caution. “If we kill her, her power will transfer to another instantaneously. The power of the Wheel of Fortune is not a variable we want out in the world—one that can potentially be used against us.”
“Can the Hierophant not find other Majors?”
“He only has a vague sense of them unless he’s standing before them, and as we know from last time, her power is particularly slippery.” Ravin casts a wary glance my way. “It is better to keep her in hand, for now. Does my brother have knowledge of the dungeons?”
“No. I have ensured that those who do are sworn to secrecy in my service or are dead after they have outlived their usefulness,” Glavstone says.
Did I ever tell Kaelis about the dungeons? I struggle to remember. Every conversation we had replays in my mind in far too vivid detail. He mentioned consigning me to the lowest pit of Halazar. I assumed he meant the dungeons…But he never said them by name.
A new fear looms, more irrational than any of the others. Kaelis won’t know where I am. Even if I’d written off ever seeing him again. Even if I knew, logically, he was never going to come for me.
Part of me still believed he would.
A tiny, insignificant corner of my mind that I’d like to pretend doesn’t exist imagined him turning the world over to find me—the only one who could. You are alone, Clara. The sooner I accept it, the easier this will be.
“Good. See to it that it stays that way. Should you have any reason to suspect otherwise, report directly to me.”
“I always do.” Glavstone bows his head.
Ravin rests his hand on Glavstone’s shoulder. “You have been a true and loyal servant. The crown will not forget this.”
“Thank you, your highness.”
“Now, to the dungeons with her. I’ve a mess in my city to clean up.” Ravin strides from Glavstone’s office.
“Understood.” Glavstone stares at Ravin’s back with purpose. Neither of us moves as the door shuts and the echoes of the prince’s footsteps and the clanking of the Stellis’s armor fade down the hall.
“You’ve always been Ravin’s little pet, haven’t you?” I get the first words in. Those two clearly have a well-established rapport. I can’t believe I didn’t guess earlier that Ravin had a mole inside Halazar—a double agent. He had one inside Arcana Academy; why stop there?
I’ve barely finished my sentence when the warden’s fist sinks into my gut and knocks the air out of me. I double over. Still bruised from Ravin’s beating, agonizing pain hits instantly.
Before I can straighten, Glavstone catches me on the chin with his knee. My hands bound, my legs little more than gelatin, I fall hard.
He looms over me. There’s the same glint in his eyes as all the other times he’s tortured me—brighter than ever. He’s going to relish this.
“No.” Glavstone yanks me up by my corset. “You can’t pass out. I’m not done with you yet.”
His grip and the card that appears over his shoulder remind me of what’s still in my corset: a slim golden card. It’s as strong as steel. And it can be used to summon the World—or, by virtue of me having it, prevent someone else from summoning it.
Glavstone is none the wiser as he releases me.
I brace myself for the damage his card will inflict, and I’m shocked to find my skin mending. I know better than to think this is kindness.
There’s no compassion in the way he looks at me.
No empathy. No humanity. Nothing but cold, cruel hate that yearns for my complete and total destruction.
Whatever is to come, there will be no negotiating with him.
All hope of mercy died with Eza. Even if I wasn’t the one who put the blade to his neck, Glavstone blames me all the same, and nothing I say or do now will change that.
I know it in my marrow because…because I’ve felt the same my whole life.
About Oricalis. About him. About Ravin.
True hatred is a stain on my soul that will never be expunged.
“Beg for my mercy,” he demands.
I say nothing.
Glavstone grabs my face and shouts, “Beg!”
Still, I say nothing.
“Beg!”
“Go fuck yourself.” I’ll die before I ever give him the satisfaction.
Glavstone snarls and stands. He spits on me and then slams his boot into my face.