Tobias
My face stared back at me in a thousand different pieces. The shattered mirror quivered tauntingly, its broken shards only reflecting my own despair.
There wouldn’t be any help coming. Nor was there a simple way out.
My head swam, my mouth going dry as I tried to swallow. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead and each beat of my heart pounded loudly in my ears. Once again, I wouldn’t be able to save my sister, or anyone else counting on us.
My nightmares had come to life, and they were so much worse than I ever imagined.
Silvius straightened his robes as a guard walked into the cell. I strained against my bonds.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” I warned him.
“You should know by now that you can’t stop me.” Silvius sounded almost bored as he brushed a speck of dirt from his sleeve. But the only thing I cared about was that Silvius had turned his attention on me.
“Let her go,” I pleaded. I wasn’t above debasing myself if it meant saving her. “I’ll do anything you want—”
“I don’t think so.” Silvius’s voice dripped in condescension.
“After all, I need her. But I have no doubt you will do as I ask this time. As will she.” The guard removed a smaller key ring, lifting a single key as he reached Quinn.
Silvius turned his focus on her. “It’s simple, really. You’re going to help me, or he’ll die.”
Something dangerous flashed in Quinn’s eyes. “Help you with what, exactly?”
“The next step, of course.” Silvius frowned, looking almost disappointed. “A virus’s purpose is to spread. While I managed to circumvent the need for a subject’s blood in my latest version of my creation, it still requires an injection. Which is where you come in.”
Quinn’s eyes widened in alarm. “If this becomes viral, you have no control over how it’ll spread. Or how it’ll mutate.”
“Which is why we’re where no one can reach us,” he said condescendingly. “When it’s over, the city will be mine, as will anyone who attempts to breach it. I’ll be free to conduct my research with willing participants. And Agadot will suffer for not choosing the True King when they had the chance.”
The chains echoed my shudder. But there was honest curiosity in my voice as I asked, “Do you think the rest of the realm will simply let you keep an entire kingdom?”
Silvius’s smile chilled me to the bone. “I think they’ll be too scared of being infected to try to stop me.”
The guard gestured at Quinn to raise her shackled hands. Her eyes darted to mine, surprise flashing across her face.
“I wouldn’t try anything once you’re unchained,” Silvius cautioned.
Quinn looked up at him, then back to the guard releasing her manacles. “And why’s that?”
“Because I have the cure you need.” He said it like it was obvious. “Or did you not want to save your Solearan friend before her mind goes?”
The look on Quinn’s face seared deeper than any wound.
How long did we have before it was too late to cure her?
Quinn’s chains fell to the floor with a loud clang that seemed to reverberate through my brain. My jaw clenched as her hands moved to her wrists, rubbing the area where the iron had been.
She looked unsure. “You’ll give the cure to Pari?”
“She was never my target. I told them to infect the warrior who brought down the mountain.” Silvius sighed, shaking his head.
“No matter. The Solearan won’t last long before some of the effects become permanent, if she survives at all.
The latest strain is particularly unstable without the infected’s blood to balance it. ”
My stomach bottomed out. That quickly—she would succumb that quickly. The room seemed to tilt and sway, the cage moving sickeningly around me.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll get her the cure immediately if I help you?” I could see her mind working, the pinch between her brows. “Because she needs it now, not later.”
She was smarter than him, and he knew it if he was this desperate for her help. A grim smile tilted my lips.
He was foolish to underestimate her.
Silvius tilted his head in assent. “I’ll send someone first thing tomorrow if you do as I ask. But today, I get your mind.”
Quinn swallowed hard. I knew she wouldn’t help Silvius, not really. I also knew she was far too crafty not to play along. If anyone could find us a way out of here with that cure in hand, it was her.
Silvius gestured at the table, where one of the guards dumped a stack of leather-bound books, as well as a few familiar ones. “My own research, for your perusal, as well as ours in case you need it for reference.” His eyes narrowed. “Now, come.”
I lurched forward instinctively as the guard next to her drew his sword. To my relief, he didn’t point it at her. Instead, he took two steps closer, pressing its tip against my throat.
My smile widened into a grin, even as my neck stung where the blade nicked the scar banded there. Silvius needed Quinn’s help, which meant he wouldn’t risk hurting her, at least for now.
“Don’t hurt him,” Quinn pleaded. “I’ll help you.”
She raised both hands in submission but took a step towards me. Silvius tutted as she got too close.
“If she tries to do anything to free him, make sure he bleeds,” he ordered my guard.
Quinn froze as the blade scraped against my skin.
Her eyes met mine as she slowly backed out of the cell. Silvius slunk toward the door, hiding behind the safety of his guard.
Quinn eyed him up and down in a way that would make most cower. “I won’t trade anything I come up with until I have proof that Pari’s cured.”
“You’re hardly in a position to make demands, my dear.” Silvius pressed his hand against a panel at the side of the door. It looked identical to the ones in the Enclave. “But I’ll consider it. I’ll even bring you some help.”
“Help?” Quinn looked troubled. “Please don’t force anyone else to—”
Silvius ignored her, walking out the door. It vanished behind him, the glamour hiding it almost seamlessly, integrating it into the wall. I squinted, noting the faint sheen of magic I had missed before—the only flaw in the facade.
Considering the only panels I had seen like that were in the Enclave’s laboratories, I doubted we had left the city. If that panel had been keyed to Silvius alone, then we would need him to escape without the mirror as an option. That didn’t mean there wasn’t another way out.
“I need some water, and something to eat if you want me able to focus,” Quinn said testily to the guard by the door. She glanced back at the one by me. “And so does Tobias.”
The guards stayed silent.
Her hand trembled as it curled into a fist, the only sign of her nerves. “Do you hear me?”
The door reappeared. Silvius walked back through it a moment later.
“If you want me to be able to do what you’re asking, we need food and water,” Quinn demanded imperiously. “Your guards don’t seem to understand that.”
“They only take orders from me,” Silvius said simply. “I’m afraid my earlier test subjects couldn’t retain much more than the ability to fight and function. Though I suppose that’s all I need from them.”
I stared at the guards in renewed horror.
Quinn’s look mirrored my own. “Who were they?”
Silvius shrugged. “Does it matter?” He turned to the closer guard, his hand still on that panel. “Fetch some refreshments for our guests. Do be quick about it.”
The guard slipped through the doorway just before two more walked through, half-carrying, half-dragging someone between them. They dropped him to the floor in front of Silvius’s feet. I winced as his palms hit the stone.
The real Dolion had lost so much weight he was barely recognizable. My stomach lurched as I saw the blood dried on his wrists and the visible bruising on his arms and face. Blood stained his hands, seeping into the bottom of his robes like he had been kneeling in it.
Yet my focus lingered on the band that was fastened around his neck.
I couldn’t stop my shudder at the sight of it, but more important was what it meant.
We may not have our magics in this room, but outside that door?
The only reason Dolion would be wearing that band was if there was somewhere here where we could access it—or at least some way to undo the block on our power.
My eyes met Quinn’s, who gave me a subtle nod.
She took a hesitant step forward. “Dolion?”
He searched her face, looking bewildered.
“I’m Quinn Sagray,” she said quickly. “I…we wrote letters…”
“Quinn.” Dolion’s hoarse voice sounded so much softer than the one Silvius had taken on to mimic him. “I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I gritted out, glaring at Silvius.
Dolion’s gaze flicked to me, his face hardening as he took in my chains.
Silvius cleared his throat. I didn’t miss the way Dolion shrank back from the noise.
Aviel may have been a sociopath and a sadist, but in many ways, Silvius was far worse.
He was a genius, and his fixation on his research above all else meant he was just as dangerous yet far more unpredictable.
His utter disregard for life and lack of conscience made him the worst sort of psychopath.
He didn’t care who survived as long as he learned what he wanted from them.
A guard returned with a tray of food and a jug of water, placing it on the table in the middle of the room. Dolion’s throat bobbed convulsively, the hunger on his face far too familiar.
“You two have one day.” Silvius looked at Dolion first, who quickly nodded, then Quinn, who held his stare. “One day to trade the answer to my problem for the cures you need.”
Dolion’s mouth opened in protest. “Without magic, without samples to test—”
“I said I wanted your hypotheses, not your grunt work,” Silvius said flatly. “I know better than to give you access to your magics. I suggest you work fast before I decide you need more motivation.”
Quinn’s eyes sparked with defiance. I knew that look—she was about to test how far she could push him.
She lifted her chin. “And if we refuse?”
The guard at my side straightened as if on some unspoken cue. Silvius nodded, a cruel smile twisting his lips a second before the guard’s boot rammed into my freshly healed leg.
There was an audible crack. My vision went black, the sudden agony so overwhelming it nearly blocked out Quinn’s scream.
Then the darkness swallowed me whole.