CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The marble floor was cool against my heated cheek.
My eyes slowly fluttered open. The rest of my body was less compliant.
I tried to move a muscle, any muscle. But try as I might, my body was no longer mine to command.
Paralysis settled over it like a heavy blanket.
From my position lying on the floor, I could tell I was still in Rogam’s study.
I spotted Corvin slumped over in his chair and would have given into despair if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. He’s alive.
Had Rogam poisoned us? If so, with what?
The Fae were able to naturally cleanse many toxins and poisons from their body.
Theoretically, I had some of that same immunity flowing through my blood.
But I had no idea how far back my Fae ancestry went.
How potent that protection may or may not be.
The sound of footsteps heralded our host’s return to the study.
I kept my eyes half-lidded, trying to hide that I was awake.
Eventually, Rogam entered my line of sight.
He reached for a long rope dangling from a crevice in the wall; I assumed he was calling for his servants.
Only, it wasn’t a member of his serving staff that answered the call.
But rather, several heavily armed guards.
I heard them before I saw them, unable to turn my head even a fraction of an inch.
Rogam exited my purview, disappearing somewhere behind the study desk.
Shortly afterward, a section of bookshelf swung forward, revealing what looked to be a downward staircase.
The hinge didn’t even creak. If it led to a dungeon, the passageway was well maintained, suggesting he made ample use of its presence. Bastard.
This was not how I wanted us to find the entrance to his hidden wares.
“Tie them up,” Rogam barked at his guards. Quickly, I squeezed my eyes closed again.
“Are they poisoned?” one asked in a flat tone, all business.
Rogam’s response was equally devoid of emotion. “Paralytic Grilbur Toxin. Knocks ’em unconscious and freezes their muscles.”
“A fatal dose?” inquired a female voice, shuffling closer to my body as she spoke.
“No—the Fae want her alive. We’ll assume the same for him until we hear otherwise.
They’ve been given just enough to incapacitate them.
Not enough to still their lungs. Bind their arms and legs to be safe.
This must be handled extremely carefully.
We cannot risk offending the Fae. Ingwar, dispose of the glasses on the end table.
They’re coated with toxin. Ciradyl, remove the woman’s necklace.
It looks magical to me. I suppose if she was ordinary, the Fae wouldn’t have put a bounty on her using underground channels. ”
“They’ve been informed?”
“I released the homing pigeon that delivered their message. It should find its way back to them.”
“Very good, sir. And when the Fae arrive? Should we be worried?”
“Be on alert. They can be very temperamental. But we have something they desperately want. That gives us the upper hand. Still, it would be best to inform the staff not to speak to them directly.” Rogam let out a disgruntled sigh.
“Of course, I would have preferred not to deal with them at all. But then she went and lost me what could have been my biggest sale of the year. And damaged my reputation with Queen Elasha.” His voice dripped with outraged disgust. “I had to sell Kharum that book for one-third its value to save face. Tie them up, and let’s be done with it. ”
Rough hands gripped my arms, yanking them behind my back.
A moment later, they were bound. The rope was coarse, abrasive against my skin.
The guard tightened the knot for good measure.
Then tightened it again. An interesting quirk of anatomy that I couldn’t move but could feel pain radiating from where the rope bit into my flesh, cutting off my circulation.
No gasps of pain escaped my lips, however—my vocal cords were frozen in place.
The guard bound my feet next with the same lack of care.
A hand brushed the back of my neck, reaching for the clasp of my necklace.
Nothing happened. She pulled the chain taut against my throat.
It was giving her trouble. She swiped at the clasp a second time.
Followed by a growl deep in her throat. “Sir, there’s something going on with the necklace. I can’t remove it.”
The second guard chimed in, “The man’s cloak too, sir; it won’t unclasp.”
Rogam’s voice held little patience when he responded. “Fine. Leave them on. The Fae should be here soon enough.”
“Where do you want us to put them?”
“Put them in with the treasure from R’zathavar’s abandoned hoard.”
The guard hoisted me off the floor and unceremoniously tossed me over a hard shoulder, my body as limp as a doll.
I dared a quick peek around, peeling one eye open ever so slightly.
My captor was heading toward the secret staircase.
As she took me down, she neglected to protect my head and it bumped painfully against the high ceiling before the passageway began to expand into a full corridor.
Mercifully, I didn’t incur any further bumps to the head as we made it the rest of the way down the stairs.
Ciradyl and Ingwar took us down a long stretch of hallway, lined with a multitude of doors.
When they stopped, it was in front of an open holding cell, sealed off behind slotted metal bars.
I hadn’t expected to be laid down on a soft mattress, but apparently, a flat surface was also too much to ask for.
The floor of the cell was littered with gold coins, and they dug sharply into my side as my body was deposited inside.
Corvin was thrown inside too, somewhere behind me.
The guards retreated, and the prison lock clicked into place.
Trapped. And from the sound of it, Rogam intended to sell us to the Fae. Did he know who exactly was after me?!
I took a look around, scanning the space for anything that might prove useful to escape once I regained the use of my limbs.
In addition to the gold, the floor was covered in a variety of glittering gemstones.
An amethyst. An emerald. An opal. All in plain view.
There was at least one full suit of plate armor visible in my periphery.
A stack of old books. And a wooden table, pushed against the opposite wall, its long surface covered in alchemical glassware, as well as three corked bottles, each filled with a different colorful liquid.
The only creature capable of amassing such wealth is a dragon.
But a dragon would never abandon its hoard.
Unless abandoned was just a careless euphemism.
The only way a dragon would abandon its treasure was if it had been killed.
Or forced to leave the Kingdom of Uvrakar.
The one place they still flew free in the realm.
My left foot twitched. Yes! I guess I couldn’t claim my Fae heritage never did anything for me.
I started to cough, choking on my own saliva.
My throat muscles are working again! I swallowed a few times, wetting my tongue.
Even then, with my dry mouth, it was a while before I could form words.
My first attempt to shout Corvin’s name died on my tongue.
“C…Co…Coofin…” My tongue began to loosen.
“Corvin?!” I eventually called out. “Are you awake? Can you move?”
“I’m here,” he called back, his voice weak. “My body refuses to budge.”
“Rogam poisoned us!” I seethed.
“The apple pie was delightful though.”
I snorted. “I would still prefer for it not to be our last meal.”
“Agreed. Can you move?” he asked.
“I think I’m regaining some sensation in my legs. You might have been given a heavier dose than me.”
“Yeah, maybe. When did you first wake up?”
“Back in the study. I don’t think Rogam expected us to wake up this soon.”
“That would be ideal. If he’s assuming we’re out for the count.”
“Did you hear him speaking about a bounty?” I asked. “The Fae are coming for us.”
“At least he’ll have to contact them first. I heard him mention a homing bird.”
“Maybe it will get lost, fly astray,” I said half-heartedly.
“We can hope. But I don’t think it’s likely.
The homing bond is too strong. Those of us with wings always seem to know which direction to find home.
I know I would be lost without it… That bird probably knows exactly where it needs to go to reach the Fae.
We need to escape before it flies all the way home. ”
My left leg started to tingle unpleasantly, beset with pins and needles. Groaning, I jiggled my leg, attempting to shake out my discomfort. It moved! My right leg followed suit, regaining its mobility shortly afterward. “Hold on—I think I can move my legs again! But I’m tied up.”
“I think they used a bowline knot,” Corvin remarked in a fascinated tone.
“You recognize the knot?! Do you think you can untie it somehow?” I asked excitedly.
“Nope! I just remembered its name from that book I borrowed from your study. Isn’t that fun?”
“I’m so glad it’s become relevant to our lives.” I laughed with a groan, jiggling my legs some more.
“Do you think you can make it over to me? I’m still wearing my cloak. If you can reach a dove feather.”
“What does it do?”
“They’re useful for detoxification and purification magic. I may be able to use it to neutralize the poison.”
“Will it work if I pull it off with my teeth? My hands are bound behind my back.”
“I just need to drop the feather somehow. Can you get it to my mouth?”