“Yes, my lady,” they said, nodding. She could tell that they understood her meaning, that they were to wait behind to prevent the guards from locking her in.
Holding the torch, she continued down the steps, feeling the swell of the magic growing stronger. The stairs were short and ended in front of another door watched by another set of guards. They wore Fallon’s badge, the Pierced Lion. They asked no questions as she approached, only turned and pulled at the heavy doors for her. She nodded to them both, feeling her unease growing with each step.
The presence of magic was growing stronger. She could sense it filling the corridor. She reached out with her magic and sensed a single person waiting for her ahead. Her heart pounded in her throat. Was it Gahalatine? He was making no effort to hide his power at all. In fact, quite the opposite. His power was luring her there.
They were belowground in the bowels of the castle. The noise of the grinding stones had faded, and all was quiet other than her footsteps and the hissing flame of the torch. The smell of pitch was strong.
As she walked carefully ahead, she saw an iron gate blocking the way. The darkness and her weariness descended on her, making her fearful. There were several iron doors farther down the corridor, beyond the gate, but no one was standing guard. She approached the gate, watching the light play off the round bars. There was someone in the corridor, though not behind any of the iron doors. Someone she could sense but not see.
When the magic dissolved, all the air huffed out of her in a gasp. Dragan stood leaning against the bars, his cheek pressed against them.
“Hello again, lass,” he said by way of greeting. There was a look of cunning and cruelty in his eyes as he stared at the left side of her face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Lost
Once again Trynne found herself facing the man who had harmed her as a child. Even with the bars separating them, she felt part of herself plunge into a dark abyss. Her childhood had been shattered by this man. She wanted revenge. The oath she had taken would be tested again.
Somehow she found the courage to speak his name. “Dragan.” She stepped forward, holding the torch higher to get a better look at his face. He winced, his eyes not adjusting well to the stabs of light.
“Put it down or put it lower; I can see ye well enough,” he said with a growl in his voice.
“Why are you here?” she asked, keeping a good distance between them. She reached out with her magic and tested him. His reserves were running low. How did the thief lord usually supply his needs? Was it through stealing? If so, his cage was preventing it. Then again, there was no reason for him to be invisible in his prison.
“Even a clever rat gets caught by a trap,” he answered, wagging his eyebrows at her. He gripped a bar with one hand and slid his palm up and down, taking the measure of it. Then he shook the bars roughly, impotently, furiously. His teeth were bared. “I was not expecting ye, lass.”
“Then who were you expecting?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice from quavering. She probed his weaknesses. He was not a threat to her physically. His heart beat in quivering, irregular thumps, and his other internal organs were tender from hard drinking and complacency. He’d be winded in a trice if he tried to run—and that was if his knees held him.
“Someone else,” he answered with a shrug of one shoulder.
“Well, I’m the one who found you. The king is here. Did you know that?”
Dragan blanched. “Well, I daresay he didn’t leave Kingfountain on a pleasure jaunt, did he? His time be almost up. There will be a new king soon.”
Trynne glared at him. “Not if I can help it.”
He chuckled roughly. “And what can you do, lass? You’re not half as clever as your papa.” He said the endearment with loathing in his voice. “Naught like your mam, neither. She was powerful. I heard about the day she saved the sanctuary from flooding. My ilk still pay homage to me. You swooned when ye tried to help her. If the other lass hadn’t come, you would have faltered and they’d all have drowned.”
He was plying her with his words, trying to manipulate her emotions. She was tempted to thrust the torch through the bars to burn him. No! She reined in her feelings sharply.
“You want revenge on me,” Dragan said. “I see it in your eyes. Your kind like to strut and mince and make a tinkling with your fancy jewelry. You say ‘as it please you, Father’ and make a little curtsy. Your papa got my daughter killt.” His eyes blazed with animosity. “I tried to be revenged on ye in turn. A daughter for a daughter. Right is right. But it didn’t satisfy. I made ye ugly, but it’s your father I wanted to destroy. Do you know where he is, lass?” He leered at her.