I woke to a booming sound and the feel of rumbling walls. The sound made me shudder until I realized it was something I needed desperately—a storm.
From above, cold water trickled down my body, soaking my green dress. My eyes snapped open, and I instinctively opened my mouth. Rainwater slid down my throat, slaking my thirst. Light flashed above, and thunder rumbled through the tower walls. I made a cup with my hands, collecting rainwater, and sucked it down greedily.
I kept filling my hands, drinking as much as I could. The rain soaked into my skin.
I sat against the wall, letting the water run over me. Shivering, I hugged myself. But the rainwater seemed to be washing away the stench of my cell, drawing it down into the tree’s roots. I wished to God I had a cup or something to collect water in, but Morgant had taken it with him.
Since this might be my only chance for a shower in the near future, I stripped off my gown and my underwear. I scrubbed myself in the rain, then picked up the dress and cleaned it as best I could. Morgant had done this on purpose, leaving me without clothes or soap, while he looked pristine in his green velvet and a golden crown. Another control mechanism, so I’d have to take back what dignity I could.
When I’d finished scrubbing my clothes, I hung them to dry and curled up against the wall.
Hammering echoed through one of the stone walls, and I froze. Was I still hallucinating?
Morgant’s words played in my mind, again and again.
If you are trying to protect a man who loathes you, I must say I find it rather pathetic.
7
TORIN
Islumped against the wall with my head in my hands, a broken king. I only knew that I needed to get Ava out of here.
Rainwater pooled on the floor, mixing with the blood from my feet where Morgant had used his “healing” powers to rip them open beyond recognition.
Since I’d been locked in here, with poison coursing through my body, I’d been unable to summon enough magic to open a portal. Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave Ava.
At first, the worst part of my imprisonment had been when Morgant had slammed an iron pipe into my throat, or maybe when he’d knocked me unconscious, chained me up, then waited until I woke to rip the muscles in my feet with his magic. Bad, but not the worst. The worst had been hearing Ava screaming and not being able to do anything about it.
I touched my throat, and it pulsed with a dull pain.
Drops of rain still spilled from the tree’s canopy high above and slid down my bare chest. I let my head fall back and the drops soothe me like a gentle blessing from the old gods.
Since I’d spoken to Ava through the walls, I’d tried calling her name a few more times, but I didn’t think she could hear me.
My mind kept drifting into a fantasy, one where I carried her into my room and laid her down on my bed. There, under an expansive glass ceiling, an apple tree grew. If Ava and I were together there, we could eat as many apples as we wanted, the sweet juices dripping down our throats. I could almost taste it…
I let out a long, slow breath. Even if by some miracle, I got us out of here and we took a portal back to Faerie and my beautiful room, I could kill her with my touch.
I saw my sister’s face in the hollows of my skull. I’d had so many conversations with her in my head in the past few days. If I saw Orla now in person, I would tell her I wanted to bring Ava home. She’d remind me that I couldn’t. She’d remind me to keep Ava at arm’s length. She’d remind me that I’d nearly killed Ava already with a frost spreading over her skin.
I winced at the pain in my broken body.
I glanced at my forearm. Under my skin, the bones were slowly healing where the demon had broken them. Without my magic, I didn’t heal as quickly as I normally would.
With a grunt, I forced myself to stand on my bloodied feet. Every time I had enough energy, I tried opening a portal again. What I desperately needed was the Sword of Whispers.
But it was easier to summon magic at my full height, to open my chest to the ancient power of the old gods.
I flexed my fist, imagining the Sword of Whispers in my hand now, carving through the stone walls to get to Ava. A drop of water slid down my temple.
If the old gods had chosen me as their anointed king, they wouldn’t simply leave me here to die, would they?
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, remembering Ava trying to crawl for me when we’d been ambushed. She’d been attempting to get the darts out of my back.
Twilight was falling, and the faintest tinges of violet and gold shone through the scarlet sky above. We called this time the gloaming, when a fae could travel more easily between worlds. This was the best time of day to appeal to the old gods.