Chapter 5
Alora
I’ve experienced pain before, the kind that makes your stomach churn and your muscles clench.
Even experiencing the ache of loss and soul harrowing devastation doesn’t compare to what I’m experiencing in these chained confinements.
My body hurts. It’s well past the point of soreness as I sit upon the cold stone floor.
I’d sooner believe my bones were punching through my skin with how they’re rioting inside my limbs.
Even worse, I can’t stop seeing Caym’s twisted expression when I close my eyes or hear his guttural cries.
The lantern in the corner flickers with a draft that seems to come in from nowhere.
Perhaps it’s been enchanted as I know there isn’t a space to allow a breeze because I’ve scoured every square inch of the room that holds me prisoner.
I’ve looked for any gap or crevice that could give me a chance to escape.
More probable is that exhaustion is confusing my thoughts. I’ve eaten bits of stale bread and scrapped mold off the questionable meat that had me heaving almost immediately after trying it. The little water I had left was quickly guzzled to rid me of that rotten taste.
All this searching has left me feeling hollow. The dawning realization that I very well might be screwed and end up at the fingertips of The Devourer gnaws at my conscience.
Cracking my neck in an attempt to shake off the hopelessness that looms in the air, I stand to shake out my growing nervousness.
I flex my fingers and stretch my arms causing the blood to rush to those numb parts, and gods does it hurt.
The hours have slipped away to days, or maybe it’s only been minutes since Lord Rion Velroy was last here, before he came in.
After both men left, I forced myself to remember as much as the council had learned about Astoria and the residents of the dreary town, including recounting the vile stories I’ve heard about Lord Velroy.
King Euron had a proclivity to place dangerous men in positions of power, men that would mirror his own twistedness and spew his hateful rhetoric.
It only makes sense that the figurehead of the village would come witness one of the rebels in shackles.
The lantern calls to me as I attempt to warm my fingertips. The biting cold isn’t something I’m used to. River’s End, my home, is far warmer than the part of the kingdom Astoria resides in. I thought I’d see the shimmering ponds of the cavern city at least one more time.
If I had anticipated this raid going badly, I would have made sure Oak, my white raven, would be taken care of. I’d left her cage open so she was free to roam while I was away as it was too much of a risk to bring her along with how recognizable her coloring is.
Perhaps Leeson would charm her into submission. I let out an audible chuckle at that thought. Oak was stubborn and more wild than other tamed ravens. It was pure luck that she bonded to me as I’d found her as a fledgling, alone and abandoned, much how I felt at the time, kindred souls.
Finding my thoughts wandering, I dig my nails into my palm, hard, in an effort to bring me back to reality and the present situation before me.
I lower my gaze from the flame that dances in the dingy lantern glass and flex my fingers.
Low throbbing builds in the ends of my fingertips as the pulse returns.
I grasp the lantern by the handle and slowly walk to the large iron door.
Inspecting the door, I realize it’s the same iron that would null my magic as the culling bands do. Goddess help me. The silent plea barely forms before I hear shuffling outside the door.
Startled, I jump back, crashing onto my painfully sore tailbone.
“Burning hell.” My voice is scratchy and dry.
Before I can get out of the way, the door flings open, crushing me between the wall and heavy iron frame. A very angry looking Lord Velroy stalks into view and peers around the corner of the door.
“My Lord, you’re not to enter here. No one is to come in here in the chance she can fight and escape.” The guard’s red face and puffing breath leads me to believe that he did try and fight off the man that stands in front of me, sneering down at me crumpled behind the door.
“If you value your throat, then I suggest you leave us. I have something to discuss with this rebel whore.”
The guard’s eyes shift to me, uncertainty palpable. “My Lord… I …”
I lift my chin as the guard’s voice cuts out.
“Lord Dyre will have me removed from my post if I allow you to be with her.” His focused gaze on me steels. I see the resolve written on his face as clear as the sky outside, the determination to do his job with honor.
“I see.” The clipped tone from Lord Velroy echoes in the entrance of the dungeon.
Before I can wrap my mind around what is happening, blood trickles from the guard’s nose. Deep, stricken fear slicks down my spine. The guard falls to his knees in a choked gasp, wine—colored tears spilling onto the floor, not even an arm’s length away from me.
The look in the young man’s eyes screams at me to run, but my body is frozen. My head snaps to Lord Velroy, and I can’t quit looking at the perverted twist of his lips. Eyes falling to where a weapon should be in his hands, but isn’t, confuses me and adds to my muddling thoughts.
“What did you do?” I’m startled by the words, disbelief in the fact I uttered them, my body feeling detached. As if I’m watching a carriage crash in slow motion, unable to stop it, forced to watch.
“Of course you wouldn’t know what to call my magic. I hide it very, very well. Usually I only share it with those who are quick to pass into the veil.” His words sound like poison mixed with perversion.
Except what he doesn’t know is that I have met some of his kind before.
Someone who can impale the mind by their will alone, causing permanent damage and death.
Not a true rarity, but rather a magic most refuse to use, or rather refuse learning to harness.
To find someone so cruel with their magic without remorse is unexpected.
It goes against every fiber of my being.
Indifference to others' agony and torment is inhuman and a lack of empathy that resides only in our most primal animals.
“You’re a Melder.” My voice feels small.
The guard’s body crashes to my feet, his eyes rolled back to reveal the bloody whites.
Lord Velroy turns to me and I see a shacked collar in his grasp.
Fuck this. I am not about to let him take me anywhere.
I scream as loud as my hoarse voice allows, until it cracks. Nothing. No answer. The sinister silence in the air hangs over my head, foreboding in its quietness.
Using my feet, I slam the door into the unprepared body of Lord Velroy and throw the lantern at him. He stumbles back, off balance as I scramble off the dirty floor.
The hot surge of adrenaline has my feet peeling around the corner of the door and jumping over Lord Velroy, his arms reaching up to try and grab my foot.
Relief floods me as I clear the space and jolt down a short hallway that opens to a small courtyard surrounded by wrought iron fencing and dying trees. The sunlight burns in my vision, my eyes slow to adjust. I don’t slow my stride until I feel the crunch of fallen leaves under foot.
The barren orchard trees are a welcome, yet confusing, sight. I don’t recognize the landscape but assume it must be in close proximity to Astoria. The clean air is a blessed reprieve from the stale air of the dungeon as fallen leaves marry with a chilled wind.
My chest clenches as I hear Lord Velroy shuffling to his feet in the dungeon. The sun is hidden by dark storm clouds that grow in mass by the second. As the air around me grows heavy and dense with electric current, I try to plan my escape while scouring the treeline for an easy exit.
With my skin prickling from the sudden change in weather, I chance a look behind me.
The bastard holds the back of his head, but the look he is giving me has my scalp pebbling with goose bumps.
His eyes appear devoid of life, promising a vengeance I’m not sure I would want to survive.
The tingling of fear wriggles from my head to my toes.
After hearing more than a few stories about how he was a brute to women, and the way he’s glaring at me, confirms the horrific tales.
My boots twist with me, the leather squeaking as I break into a sprint. I don’t give myself a moment to think about what would happen if he catches me.
Uneven ground throws my pace off, the only thing worse than the man on my heels would be if I twisted an ankle.
I race through the clearing in front of me and find myself edging toward an outcropping of trees.
Their blue green branches greet me as I push through the large bows.
Needles slap across my arms the farther I venture in.
It hasn’t been more than a few minutes since I escaped but weariness eats at my muscles. The adrenaline I once had is snuffed out like a flame starved for oxygen.
Straight ahead is a large tree, the width of the base promising me refuge. Moving toward the evergreen, I notice the soft bell flowers of my childhood growing near the massive trunk, beckoning me further. Perhaps this is a sign from Hanin.
The faint scent of the blooms has tears welling up.
I’m just so damn exhausted. Awkwardly crashing to the padded earth, I suck in greedy breaths.
My lungs are aflame and my body is screaming at me.
Unsure if it’s from panic, terror, or just the brazen awareness that I am still very much in danger, I palm my eyes in an effort to focus and try to silence the heavy clang of my heartbeat.
This all feels wrong. Not just because we were tricked, more than that, I’m worried for Caym. Worried for Lees and frustrated I’m in this predicament of cat and mouse.