Chapter Thirty
Chapter
thirty
I think the whole prison will come down around our ears as we ride out the rampant trembles of the earthquake. Soren tucks most of my frame under his, as if that will protect me when the ceiling crashes in, refusing to move away until the last of the aftershocks have faded.
“No wonder the quakes have been so bad in recent months,” he says, staring through the bars with the same shocked look I’m certain is etched across my own features. “She’s been setting them off.”
The girl growls again and chucks something violently against the bars. A rock, from the sound of it.
“Gods,” I mutter. How long has she been here? Weeks? Months? Years? No wonder she’s gone mad. I’ve been in this place for an hour and feel like my mind is under assault. “We need to get her out of here, Soren. Now.”
His head snaps sideways to peer down the length of the corridor, which is littered with piles of fallen debris where the ceiling crumbled loose. Plumes of dust dim our visibility nearly to zero. “Vaughn!”
With a muffled oath and a few hurried steps, the half-Titan emerges from the gloom smacking dirt from his breeches. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Whole cellblock collapsed at the end of the hall. Bloody mess. Squished limbs everywhere.”
“Vaughn.”
He looks up at Soren’s severe tone. “What? What could possibly top squished limbs?”
“Her.” I point at the cage. My fingers get a bit too close to the bars and, almost before I have a chance to yank them back, a broad set of white teeth try to snap the tips off. “She’s the Earth Remnant.”
Vaughn takes one look at her and his mouth drops open. “So you’re saying that quake…that was her?”
The girl snarls so ominously, I flinch back into Soren.
“It was her,” he says, steadying me. “We saw it. We felt it.”
Vaughn’s voice turns skeptical. “And you presume to bring her back with us. On a ship. Across the sea.”
Skies, I hadn’t thought of that. But frankly, there is no time to waste playing out potential scenarios now. “Are you going to pull this door down or stand there debating with us?”
Vaughn sighs and steps up to the cage, muttering the whole time.
“Just what we needed on this already harebrained adventure. A feral prisoner who will sink our one remaining ship before we’ve made it halfway back to Hylios.
Can’t wait for the return journey. Gods, say what you will about this family, it’s never boring… ”
“Watch your fingers,” I warn quietly. “I’m getting the inkling she is not going to be cooperative.”
Scoffing, he wraps his large hands around the bars and jerks the door off its hinges. Before he can even set it aside, he’s pelted in the face with a rock.
“Fuck!” he roars, clutching his bleeding temple. “That’s the thanks I get for getting her out of there?”
The girl scuttles back into the corner of her cage, pressing her spine to the stone wall. She looks like she’s trying to make herself as small as possible. But there is not a lick of fear on her face. Only savage wrath, coupled by the bloom of insanity in her eyes.
“We’re here to help you,” I tell her. “We won’t hurt you.”
She stares at me, unmoved.
“I’m Rhya,” I try, gesturing down to the top half of my mark that peeks over my bodice. “I’m a Remnant. See? I’m like you.”
She has no reaction.
Is it possible she does not know what she is? I myself had been ignorant of my own power when Penn first discovered me…
I send out a pulse of maegic, trying to connect with her, but feel nothing in response. That could be due to the ore around us, or the very nature of our elements. For air and earth are natural foils, diametrically opposed in power and compatibility.
“Soren, can you try to connect with her?”
“I have been. Her mind is like a hedge maze. One made of lethal thorns.” His eyes shift from the girl to the other end of the corridor where Melité, Alaric, Harpina, and Arwen have disappeared. “We don’t have time for this. The tide is already coming in.”
“I know.” My teeth dig into my bottom lip. “But we cannot leave her here in Efnysien’s hands.”
“No. We cannot. Gods know, he has grown powerful enough already with constant access to her blood.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “But reasoning with her does not seem to be working. And dragging her out by force could prove deadly for us all, given her reactivity.”
Vaughn drops into a crouch by the threshold, eyeing her warily. His temple is still bleeding. “Come on, quakes. Get out of there.”
She does not move a muscle. Perhaps she doesn’t like her nickname.
“You can’t actually want to stay here,” he continues, striving for a cajoling tone. “If you do, you’re even madder than you look.”
I take a few steps closer, stopping short when the girl bares her teeth at me in warning. “Vaughn, give her a minute. She’s scared.”
“She doesn’t look scared,” Soren notes wryly. “She looks like she wants us dead.”
Vaughn abandons all civility, his voice turning blunt. “Two choices. You can come out or I can drag you out.”
Another rock whips at his head. This one, he manages to duck. Barely. To his credit, he does not seem alarmed by the attack. In fact, a slow grin works its way across his broad face as he stares at the disheveled prisoner. Something like respect shines in his eyes.
“Option two it is.”
He is remarkably quick for such a large man. I always forget that about him until I see him move. The girl also underestimates his alacrity; she does not even have time to resist before he’s reached into the cage and plucked her out like she weighs no more than a feather.
“There now,” Vaughn says, his arms a vise. “Settle do—Ow!” He looses an oath. “Infernal hells! The she-devil bit me!”
“I did warn you,” I remind him, smothering a laugh. But all my amusement fades when the ground beneath us begins to vibrate again.
Gods, no.
Not another quake.
“Contain her!” Soren shouts. “Before she brings this whole island down!”
“Trying!” Vaughn yells back, panting from the effort. “She’s incredibly strong!”
Her powers must be manifesting as brute physical strength. Enough to set off tremors that shake the realm at its seams. Enough to rattle the snows of the Cimmerians from half a continent away.
Even Vaughn, in his limitless Titan strength, is struggling to hold on to the girl. She fights like a wild thing against his grip, kicking and thrashing, snapping her teeth and scoring her fingernails deep into the flesh of his forearms.
“It’s like holding on to a bloody rockslide,” he hisses.
His muscles flex under the immense strain of it.
But for all her efforts, she cannot quite manage to escape him.
He begins to march forward, ignoring the bloody scratches that mar his skin, paying no heed to the growls that promise retribution as soon as she gets the opportunity.
“If she’s this strong down here, what will she be like on the surface?” I ask Soren as we hurry in their wake, my boots picking a careful path across the vibrating earthen floor.
His eyes cut to mine. “Let us hope we live long enough to find out.”
For a brief moment, I dare to hope we will make it out alive. Back to the ship, back to our lives. I dare to believe that this half-baked plan of ours will actually be a success.
Until we catch up to Alaric, Arwen, and Harpina.
They’ve stopped at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the tower.
Arwen is on her feet, though leaning heavily against her husband’s side.
She has one of Harpina’s throwing stars gripped tight in her hand, gleaming silver in the flickering light of a torch.
All three of them stare in silence at the pile of rubble that blocks our way forward.
“Must’ve collapsed in the quake,” Soren says grimly. “We’ll have to find another way up to the ramparts.”
I inhale deeply, trying not to succumb to panic at the thought of being trapped down here forever. My throat feels uncomfortably tight.
Vaughn grunts, but does not otherwise chime in.
He is preoccupied holding on to the Earth Remnant, who, while no longer actively clawing at his arms, is clearly still exerting her significant strength in an ongoing attempt to shake herself free of his grip.
The frustration that contorts her expression is a mirror of that on Vaughn’s face as their battle of wills drags on without a victor.
Quite the match, they make.
“We should fan out,” Soren says. “Search for—”
“Over here,” a melodic voice interrupts him. “There’s a passage and a set of steps.”
Melité.
I’d forgotten she was with us in the chaos of the past few moments. But there she is, hips swaying as she sidles out of the shadows. There’s a serene smile on her face.
“Follow me,” she murmurs, turning on a heel.
Soren and I trade a glance but say nothing. There is no other choice. Time is running short. If we stall down here any longer, we will be stranded when the tide sweeps back in and washes our escape options out to sea.
The staircase is narrow and dark, no torches to light our ascent.
We make our way up steadily, Vaughn on our heels, his constant curses and grunts chasing us the entire journey.
Just ahead, I can hear the hoarse metronome of Arwen’s shallow breaths.
And beyond, Melité’s fluid tones, floating back to us from the top.
“Not much farther now.”
I had thought my trepidation already at its apex in the dungeons, but it vaults to new levels as we step out of the stairwell and into the prison’s inner courtyard.
It is cast in shadow by the black stone walls that tower all around us.
Against the dark sky, the illuminated guard towers cut a menacing silhouette.
Have Penn and the others already cleared all four?
If not, we will soon be spotted. There is nowhere to hide. Not even a tree to duck behind for cover. Just an expanse of flagstones and unyielding mortar. About forty paces from where we stand, I spot a set of switchback steps along the interior wall, leading up to the ramparts.