Chapter thirty-three
until my dying day
C ontent to bask in Marlowe’s light, I shuffled through the mountain in a lovesick haze. A guardian pulled me away from him. I swung, punching her in the face. “Why, you!” she cried and grabbed for me. Several guardians separated us and dragged me away. They took my bag and tossed me in a dark room. Only then did the lovesickness ebb.
“Oh!” I remarked. A dirty, naked man lay in the corner.
“I’d recognize that startled surprise anywhere,” the man said, sitting up.
“That makes one of us,” I whispered. Bowyn’s beautiful mane of black hair was gone, shorn roughly at the scalp. A strip of cloth covered his eyes. He looked smaller, malnourished, and sick. “Does the Cage have us?” I asked, hopeful Brana had survived.
“The Cage disappeared. They built this place just for me.” Bowyn sighed. “I am both happy and devastated that you’re here. What happened?”
“We were coming to save you, Darragh and I. Believe it or not, your father joined us as well. ”
“Hm.” Bowyn grunted in disbelief.
“Anyway, Darragh snuck out and left me trapped in the cottage. After I figured a way out, I followed with Marlowe. He turned me in, unfortunately.” I stewed. “What a bastard.”
Bowyn relaxed against the wall and chuckled. “That’s daddy.”
“Speaking of bastards,” I started. Bowyn’s shoulders hunched, readying for an attack. “Why’d you bring me to the light ball?” I slapped Bowyn’s foot. He hadn’t seen the hit coming. He dragged his leg back. “I trusted you!” I slapped his other foot. “You betrayed me, and you betrayed Darragh!”
Bowyn shook his head and raised his hands to protect himself. “I knew you could get her silly little trinket! Just like I know you can defeat her and free Darragh!”
“Bullshit! You wanted me gone,” I snapped. “You sent me to die!”
Bowyn, unused to being called on his bullshit, smiled behind his hands. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. Will you stop hitting me?”
“Maybe,” I hissed.
“At first, I wanted you gone. I was jealous.” His brows furrowed against the cloth. “And you didn’t belong here! I thought, if you went back to Earth, that would be the end of it. We’d live our lives as if you never came to Hiraeth. But that day you fell through my mirror, and I saw how quickly Darragh followed you…well, I knew if you went back to Earth, he’d follow you there too.” Bowyn’s feet fidgeted against the rock. “So, I thought, perhaps with the Queen overthrown, or gone, there might be a chance you could both stay here. Then I wouldn’t lose Darragh entirely.”
I crossed my arms. “You sent me to the wolves.”
“Listen, it was a calculated risk, but I knew you could do it,” Bowyn repeated. I let out a frustrated hiss. Bowyn counted reasons on his fingers. “One! You display an incredible resilience against our power.” He leaned forward. “Two! Despite your constant self-deprecation, you possess kindness and compassion and softness in a world that would have you dead. That is truly magical. You’re stronger and cleverer than you think—”
“You’d write wonderful job applications,” I interrupted.
Bowyn spoke louder and with particular emphasis. “And three , I know love when I see it.” He relaxed against the rock, resting his case. “You will not fail him.”
His last comment caught me off-guard. “Well…” I started, flustered. “Well, we’re all imprisoned, so you were wrong. We’re all going to die.”
Bowyn grinned. “The night is young, and I believe in you still.” Bowyn moved his foot blindly across the stones, nudging mine. “I’m sorry for what I did. I hope you can forgive me one day.”
I frowned and bit my tongue. I didn’t know if that day would ever come. Stewing in my furious silence, I couldn’t help but pity Bowyn. His proud stature was gone. He leaned against the wall, weary and beaten. Through gritted teeth, I asked, “How’d you get caught?”
“I believe Elwyn pointed a finger in my direction.” Bowyn sighed. “Lewy was at my home when they came. They took him, and the Truth got to him.” His voice caught and he bowed his head. “I think he’s dead.” He covered his face. “I didn’t love him but, I keep picturing him being tortured. His sweet face.” Bowyn’s breath hitched, and he cried.
I was still mad at Bowyn.
If we lived through this, I’d still be mad at Bowyn.
I crawled across the floor and sat beside him. He leaned on my shoulder. I reached for his hand but drew back when I noticed they both sat in his naked lap.
His hand found mine anyway.
“Would you like my jacket to cover yourself?” I asked .
“No. It wouldn’t be big enough anyway.”
My face dead panned while Bowyn chuckled to himself. The chuckles slowly faded. We sat quietly while he sobbed.
In the dark cell, hopelessness came easy. Refusing to give up, I thought of my future. I couldn’t go back to my apartment. Something inside me cried out for change—to start a new chapter. Once I freed Darragh, we could plan on our next steps, together.
Could Watney survive the trip to Hiraeth? Darragh said I was the only human ever to make the journey, but what about cats? Could I still visit Sasha every once and awhile?
Though Hiraeth frightened me, I would continue to sharpen my magic. I would get better, stronger. I would do it for Darragh. Because, wherever Darragh was, I wanted to be.
Wherever Darragh was, was home.
***
“Wakey wakey!” a singsong voice reverberated through our cell and Bowyn tensed. The Truth pried open the door. “Let’s go, girl!” Bowyn’s arm snaked around me. “Oh, stop that,” the Truth snapped. “You’re next.” Invisible hands yanked me up.
“Be brave, just a few moments longer,” Bowyn whispered.
“See you…” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure when I’d see Bowyn again. My hand slipped from his. Following the Truth, I asked, “Where’s the Cage?”
“Dead!” The Truth beamed. We approached the imposing doors of the great hall. The Truth winked and said, “Brace yourself, dear.”
The Queen sat on her throne, with Elwyn standing behind her. Darragh stood farther back, against the wall. His left eye was puffy, and his lip swollen. Beaten, but alive. The Truth and I walked through the hall, passing gathered guardians.
Darragh saw me. His lips parted, and icy dread clouded his face. When I looked at him, I’d hoped to see safety and comfort, but I felt his horror. Vomit swelled in my throat. Darragh mouthed, ‘ Why ?’ I didn’t have any clever answer for why I’d come. It hadn’t really felt like a choice. I just…had to. I half-smiled and shrugged. Darragh’s head fell forward; he held his face in his hands.
Marlowe stood before the Queen. “I’ve given you the girl…” He shuffled in his pocket. “And I’ve brought you this.” A whisper travelled through those gathered.
The necklace.
“In exchange, I beg you pardon my crimes, and free my son.”
Silence filled the hall.
“I could take it, if I wanted,” the Queen purred.
“Of course—of course you could, my Queen.” Marlowe bowed low, flourishing a hand behind him. “I hope you might reward my loyalty and unwavering devotion.” The Queen’s nails dragged along the arm of her throne, splintering the silence. The longer she stared at Marlowe, the harder she scowled.
Everyone gathered watched the Queen closely. How would she treat those most loyal to her? Would it be punishment, or…
The Queen’s eye twitched and she hissed, “Very well.” She snapped her fingers. “I have no use for the boy as he is anyway.” Two guardians brought a still-blindfolded Bowyn in. They stopped beside Marlowe.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Marlowe whispered.
Perking up, Bowyn snarled, “You!” and grabbed at the empty air. “I’ll rip your eyes out!”
Marlowe dodged with little effort. “You’ll thank me later, child.”
“Speaking of loyal, devoted members of this community.” The Queen turned her horrible, unblinking stare on me. “Allow me to remind everyone what we do to those who are not so devoted.”
A curtain of thick shadows fell from the wall beside the throne. The torchlight revealed a corpse, its skin stretched and splayed like a frog in an anatomy lesson. Thousands of delicate nails pinned the skin to the wall. Vibrant red muscles and white tendons popped against the dark rock. Without skin, the corpse was indistinguishable.
I swayed, dizzy on my feet.
It was Brana.
“Come!” the Queen beckoned me forward. “Look!” Bouncing her feet, she giggled. No magic held me still, yet I couldn’t move. “Darragh, please!” The Queen swept her arm across the hall. “Help Eleanor take a closer look.”
Darragh fought the command at first, walking with strained resistance. With every step he took closer to me, the rigid defiance melted away. When he approached me, it was with ease. Darragh’s fingers intertwined with mine. He grunted as his hand ripped up and grabbed my bicep. His chest heaved furiously, but he would not look at the Queen.
“She’ll make me drag you if you don’t go on your own,” Darragh grumbled. To spare Darragh the pain, I forced myself to move. The smell of copper and ammonia hit my throat and I gagged. I doubled over. Darragh yanked me back up and shoved me closer.
Just pretend it’s not Brana.
That wasn’t so difficult. The thing nailed to the wall barely looked like a person, let alone my friend. Though, the eyes were difficult. Brana’s eyes. The same eyes that, only days before, had shone so proudly when she showed me her son. Pip’s sweet face danced in my mind. Afraid someone might see him, I pushed the thought away.
A muscle in Brana’s throat contracted.
She was still alive.
“Ugh!” I recoiled but Darragh’s grip held. He forced me back.
“I kept her alive. Just for you.” The Queen stifled a giggle. “With Darragh’s help, of course.” A choked noise echoed in Darragh’s throat. “Look closely. Feeeel her suffering.” I didn’t move. The Queen screamed, “Darragh!” His hand found the back of my head and shoved me against Brana’s skinned face. Looking anywhere but her eyes, I focused on the skin beside her face, nailed to the wall. An earring hung from her ear…
My breath caught.
Brana hadn’t worn earrings.
They were gaudy, awful, red things. I peeked back at the Queen, to the Truth standing behind her. She wore her iconic jewelry as usual, clanking bracelets, a big, horrible necklace…but no earrings.
I made eye contact.
The Truth winked.
So subtly, I might have imagined it.
Marlowe chimed in. “As much as I am enjoying this”—the Queen’s lip curled into a snarl—“and I am,” Marlowe quickly reassured, “might I ask that we take leave?”
“Go!” The Queen sneered and waved impatiently. The Truth descended the stairs, and Marlowe bowed low, before handing her the necklace.
Sateen slunk from the side of the hall and took Bowyn’s arm. “Hello, old friend.” Bowyn protested but they both vanished. Sateen reappeared for Marlowe, who bowed low once more before they, too, vanished.
The Queen took the necklace from the Truth and cradled it. It was a strange, almost maternal gesture that earned glances from the crowd. The Queen snapped her fingers, and Darragh released me. He returned to his spot behind the throne. “Get out!” the Queen shouted. Guardians trickled past me, one-by-one. Many of them met my eyes, not unkindly. With the hall empty, the Queen spoke to the Truth. “Follow the criminal. Kill his son. Kill his friend. Then kill him.” The Truth bobbed her head in agreement. She gave me a worried look over the Queen’s shoulder before she left.
The Queen stared at me.
When she finally spoke, her voice trembled with glee. “Darragh…”—the corners of her lips turned up—“kill her.” Elwyn’s mouth fell open; she shot the Queen an incredulous stare. Darragh’s eyes closed. He couldn’t fight a command…but how long could he resist? His jaw clenched. Cords of muscle rippled down his neck as he tried to control the body that ached to betray him.
“You heard me,” the Queen repeated. She clapped and pointed at me. “Kill her now.”
For a moment, I thought he’d beaten her.
Only a moment.
Like a candle fluttering to life, flame travelled around Darragh’s body. Even across the room, I cowered against the heat. He took a step—
“No magic.”
Darragh’s fire extinguished and he stumbled. He turned a horrified face on the Queen. “Use your hands,” she commanded, raising her own in demonstration. Beside the Queen, Elwyn swallowed, seemingly trying to keep food down.
Darragh faced me, his eyes glistening.
I tried to summon the shadow magic I’d become accustomed to. I called to the shadows lurking around the hall, begging them to help me.
They did not obey.
Darragh stalked forward and I backed away. He walked in a predatory way, his eyes taking in the space around me, should I try to run.
Darragh threw a punch. I dodged and lost my footing. He lunged and grabbed the collar of my jacket. I yanked the knife from his thigh and swung at his midsection. He sidestepped and dodged the blade.
This was pointless. Even if I landed a blow, he could heal himself.
I couldn’t.
We circled each other. I’d love to tell you a story about growth and strength. How I pulled out some badass moves and won. The truth is, Darragh spent his entire life surviving in the wild. The most physically taxing thing I’d ever done was wrestle Watney into his crate. The heaviest things I lifted were books and coffee mugs. So, when Darragh feinted and brought his elbow down on my hand, I dropped that knife like it was on fire. Darragh threw a knock-out punch. My head snapped back, and tiny explosions of light speckled my vision.
I collapsed.
Hands, which had only ever shown me tenderness, circled my throat. Darragh’s hair splayed around his face in messy tangles, but it did little to obscure the terror in his wide eyes. I tried to summon the same anger I’d had toward Turner.
There wasn’t any to summon. I didn’t resist. My arms fell to my sides.
Just get through it , I told myself, one last thing . The edges of my vision darkened. I wish he’d use magic, make it quick . In my last moments, my mind wandered to Sasha and Watney. If I had to leave Watney with anyone, I was glad it was Sasha. I thought of the way the firelight had danced on Darragh’s skin last night. Remorse for a life unlived tugged at me. All the places I wouldn’t see, all the things I wouldn’t experience. I’d never grow old with someone, never see Darragh or myself any older than I saw us now. This was it.
The end.
As the darkness took over, my last fleeting thought was, I don’t want to die .
“Agh!” Darragh tore himself off me .
I sucked in fresh air so quickly, I coughed. Darragh scrabbled on the ground for something, but my puffy and swollen eyes wouldn’t focus. He clutched it, and the light gleamed off its surface—his knife. Darragh flipped the knife around, catching it at an angle, just below his rib cage.
My heart stopped.
“Wait—” I blurted, and warm blood spilled from my split lip.
“I won’t have your death weighing on my conscience forever,” Darragh said, echoing a phrase I’d said a lifetime ago. Darragh beamed, the crow’s feet around his eyes crinkled, and tears spilled down his cheeks.
He plunged the knife into his midsection.
Across the hall, Elwyn shrieked.
Darragh twisted the handle, thrusting it deeper. Blood blossomed around the knife, a horrible, crimson flower unfurling its petals. Darragh fell. Blood dripped from the wound and pooled on the floor. From far away, Elwyn screamed, “Stop this!”
Stop the bleeding .
“No-no-no!” I dragged myself to Darragh. He coughed and blood poured from the corners of his mouth. His head lulled sideways, and I held it in my lap. “Darragh!”
Eyes half-open and sightless, Darragh didn’t respond. The hilt of his knife protruded beneath his ribs.
What do I do?!
Do I pull it out?!
Will that kill him quicker?!
A hand pierced my tunnel vision—Elwyn tore the knife free. She threw it aside and it clattered against the stone floor. Blood spilled from the incision in Darragh’s skin. I slammed my hand over the wound, and slippery, warm blood coated my fingers. The room spun and I swayed on my knees. Elwyn reached for Darragh but, like a dog on a leash, she was yanked backward.
“He made his choice,” the Queen called. “Leave him to bleed.” Beckoning Elwyn, the Queen rose from her throne. Elwyn’s arms trembled as she resisted. Slowly, she climbed to her feet. With jerky footsteps, she followed the Queen.
“No!” With great effort, Elwyn’s footsteps halted. The Queen turned, puzzled. Elwyn ran and leapt on Darragh, her palms covering mine.
“Elwyn.” The Queen snapped her fingers and headed toward the doors. “I won’t tell you again.” The Queen passed a guardian posted at the entrance. “Let the girl watch. Kill her once he’s dead.” As the Queen vanished through the doors, invisible bonds tugged Elwyn. I swore I saw the hooks stretching her skin. Elwyn fell back, tearing at her finger. Trying to pull off…a ring? It was hard to tell through all the blood. Elwyn stiffened as if electrified and collapsed.
Twisting and writhing, Elwyn shrieked, “The knife!”
In a haze, I blinked stupidly. Darragh’s knife lay discarded on the floor. I kicked it and Elwyn scrabbled for the blade. Flipping onto her knees, Elwyn wretched. She raised the knife high above her head. In one quick motion, she slammed the blade across her finger. Inhuman screams escaped her mouth as she drew the knife back and forth, sawing through tendon and bone.
The finger severed from Elwyn’s hand, and the pressure tugging her to follow the Queen released. Elwyn lurched forward. Looking at her hands, Elwyn’s grimace gave way to a wide-eyed look of wonder. I knew that look. I wore it myself the first time Alyth helped me channel my power.
Elwyn crawled forward and growled, “Move your hand.”
Reluctantly, I did.
Elwyn laid her hands on Darragh’s wound. After a moment, she pulled a palm back to peek; the bleeding had slowed. We both stared at her hand, astonished. Holding the wound once more, Elwyn closed her eyes.
“Elwyn!” the Queen’s shrieking voice called through the halls.
An eerie calm lay behind Elwyn’s eyes when she opened them. Kissing Darragh’s forehead, she whispered, “I won’t let her kill you too.” Elwyn climbed to her feet and called, “I’m coming my Queen!” A coy, playful smile tugged Elwyn’s lips as she headed to the door. Pausing at the guardian, she said, “If you and the others desire deniability, I suggest none of you come when the screams start.”
“What if you require aid?”
“I won’t.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Elwyn caught my eye. To the guardian she said, “Kill her if she moves.” The guardian nodded and Elwyn left.
My grip on Darragh tightened.
We needed to get out.
Now.