Thirty-eight
Ariadnne
It was damp and dark in the cells. Ariadnne wrinkled her nose, the smell of sewage and rot overpowering as they passed cell after cell.
All empty, save one. From the back of one of the darkest, a dark skinned and heavily scarred prisoner eyed them with blank curiosity.
With a double take, Ariadnne realised he wasn’t dark skinned at all; rather his face was completely inked—like the raiders who had attacked their camp in the hills, so many weeks ago.
I have been into the cells… I can assure you he lives…
Ariadnne frowned as she took in what details she could.
The prisoner was emaciated and had clearly been a captive for a while, but a fierce power rippled out from his body, hinting at his destructive capabilities.
The walls and door to his cell were heavily warded to keep him contained.
Her curiosity burned, but she pushed it down; he wasn’t why she was here.
They continued down the corridor, to the last cell on the left.
The part of her that couldn’t believe Nieve killed Melixanthe recoiled at how they were keeping her.
Stripped of her armour, she sat in a mound of straw by the wall wearing a simple tunic and breeches, already filthy.
The cell was revolting. A decomposing rat lay against one wall, a bucket for waste against the other.
Nieve’s silver hair shone, but her eyes were dim and her skin smeared with dirt.
A chill crept down Ariadnne’s spine; this was her fault.
She tried to swallow that wedge of emotion, reminding herself she didn’t know Nieve’s innocence for sure.
Nieve scrabbled to her feet, coming to the bars.
‘Ariadnne…’
Ariadnne motioned for the guards to step back, needing space. Reluctantly they moved down the corridor to talk softly between themselves, casting her furtive glances.
Ariadnne turned to Nieve, tears of confusion pricking at her eyes.
‘I—’ she began, then swallowed. ‘I need you to tell me what happened. The truth.’
Melixanthe’s lifeless corpse flashed before her eyes and she kept a few paces away, forcing herself to ignore the swell of emotion in her chest.
‘I’m so sorry, Ariadnne… I had no idea what she was to you…’ Nieve’s eyes shone with silver, her voice cracking. True grief spooled into Ariadnne’s chest as Nieve shuddered.
‘I swear I didn’t hurt her.’
The words rang with honesty, enough that Ariadnne allowed herself a glimmer of hope.
‘She sent me a letter, inviting me to meet with her,’ Nieve continued.
Coldness slithered through Ariadnne’s gut. ‘Did she give you this letter herself?’
‘No, Councillor Leth passed it to me. It was sealed with her mark.’ Nieve frowned, her ice-blue eyes holding Ariadnne’s own, making it difficult to think straight, a complex mixture of confusion and longing swelling in her breast.
‘It said to meet her in the dining room. That she needed to discuss you with me.’ Nieve’s fingers gripped the bars with white knuckles.
She glanced at the guards, who were staring fixedly into space a short distance away.
‘The guards let me in because I had the sealed letter, but when I got to the dining room I…I found her like that.’ She closed her eyes.
‘I drew my blades in case the attacker was still present and ran to her side. That is what you saw. I’m so sorry, Ariadnne, that she’s gone.
I know how much you respected her. I would never have taken her from you. ’
Ariadnne could feel nothing but raw truth through their bond, filling her with overwhelming relief.
Nieve was innocent. She was still the person Ariadnne believed her to be.
She was still her person. The sense of aloneness that had consumed her since Melixanthe’s death retreated a fraction, and she released the breath burning in her lungs, stepping forward.
‘I… I need to apologise. I should have stopped them taking you.’ Shame heated her temples.
Nieve’s cheeks dimpled. ‘You came. That means everything.’
‘But why are you still here if you’re innocent?’
‘The Councillors don’t believe me. They say there’s no evidence that anyone else was there.’
‘Or the Councillors are behind it.’ Ariadnne moved closer, inhaling deep. Despite the grime and filth of the cells, Nieve’s forest scent was still the same.
‘Ariadnne… they say that they’ll try me in ten days, but if no other evidence is brought to light then it’s over. I’ll be executed.’
Ariadnne grew cold, the world blurring at the edges.
‘No,’ she hissed.
No. No. No.
Nieve rested her forehead against the bars. ‘I don’t know what to do.’ Her voice cracked—the Council had likely already decided their verdict.
Ariadnne tightened her grip on the bars. ‘If you were set up there won’t be any more evidence to find. Someone wanted Melixanthe out of the picture, and you’re the scapegoat. They want you gone, too.’
The Council had given Nieve that letter, luring her to the scene. They’d wanted Melixanthe dead, but they wouldn’t bloody their own hands; they’d used someone to eliminate two birds with one stone—to remove a traitor and Ariadnne’s mate, making Ariadnne easier to control.
Whether it was the entire Council, or select members, she knew the order had come from them—and with that knowledge came the realisation that she would not be staying here, under this roof.
She would take her chances with the damn curse.
However, she needed to find the person who had killed her mother.
They needed to pay—after she’d used them, and their truth, to free Nieve.
‘Sol,’ she growled.
‘Sol?’ Nieve repeated.
‘He’s always there when something happens. Watching. I bet he told the Council about us.’ Ariadnne stepped forwards to place her hands over Nieve’s, her mate’s fingers cool and soft beneath hers.
Nieve’s brows furrowed, confused. ‘Why Sol? Am I missing something? I can’t imagine him doing this.’
Ariadnne pitched her voice low. ‘He’s been acting odd, towards both me and Melixanthe. I think he found out that Melixanthe had a plan.’ Her words tumbled rapidly. ‘She was working with someone to break me out, hide me from the Guild…’
Nieve’s hands tightened on hers as she spoke, but she shook her head. ‘And you think Sol killed her on their orders? I don’t think it was him, Ari. He’s not a bad guy. It could be anyone. You need to find the truth.’
Ariadnne refused to let go of her belief. If it wasn’t Sol, then she had nothing. No way to free Nieve. She ignored the kernel of doubt that stubbornly took root.
‘It has to be him.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I will drag him before the Council by his neck if I have to and make him confess.’
‘But you said the Council are behind this? What good will that do, even if it was him?’
Nieve’s eyes flicked again to the guards.
‘If the confession is public, they will be forced to act on it—or risk revealing how corrupt they are. Melixanthe was well loved. Their best move would be to pardon you, and we can be away before they can act further.’
‘Away? You will run with me?’
‘Of course,’ Ariadnne said quietly, and loved the way Nieve’s face softened with hope. Of course she would. Anything else was unthinkable.
Nieve stroked her wrist through the bars. ‘It feels like there are many things that could go wrong with this plan, Ari,’ she murmured. ‘I hate that I’m trapped here. You’ve no one to watch your back.’
‘I won’t let anything go wrong.’ Ariadnne paused. ‘I can’t. I have to get you out of here.’ Her breath hitched. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you—’
‘Don’t.’ Nieve stopped her. ‘It was set up to make you doubt me, and I’ve felt the grief you’ve been buried in. You’ve had all that to deal with. Don’t apologise.’
Ariadnne hung her head, embarrassed despite Nieve’s words. This was her fault. She’d never harnessed her dragon. Always let it control her emotions.
‘I’ll get you out,’ she murmured, leaning her head against Nieve’s, the bars a hard barrier between them. ‘You won’t be in here for long and Sol will rue the day he messed with our lives.’
‘Ari, you need to be careful. The Council are powerful. If you anger them, or hurt them, you could have thirty varanyen to contend with, plus every knight in the Guild. Promise me you won’t pick a fight you can’t win.’
‘What can they do against the might of the varanya?’ Ariadnne tried to smile, but her mind was spiralling.
Nieve’s lip twisted as she bit it. ‘I don’t want to find out.’