Page 86 of Heart of Night
My stomach ties into a knot. “I’m not leaving you behind.” It’s a fact he’ll need to accept.
Myron doesn’t disagree—or agree. He simply marches into the dungeon, followed by Herinor and me, Kaira and Clio bringing up the rear.
After a few minutes’ walk in silence, we turn a corner where torches line the walls and the stench of mold and vomit fills the air the way I remember. What I don’t remember is the odor of blood—iron and salt and a sweetness that makes my head swim.
“I leave you here,” Herinor says, sheathing his sword and bowing to Myron, still ignoring me.
I try not to take it personally. Considering his deal with Ephegos and the risk he takes if he accidentally intentionally aids me, his life would be forfeit in a heartbeat.
“Ephegos has been waiting for you to return. Be careful. And don’t get caught,” he advises before he strolls off down the larger one of the two corridors the main path splits into. “Especially don’t get caught by me. Ephegos might order me to kill you all, and I don’t know if I can defy a direct order.”
His gaze swings to Kaira last, and my heart breaks at the way his mouth tightens when their gazes collide.
Only when his footsteps fade into the distance does Myron nod and start down the smaller corridor, blade in his hand and magic at his fingertips, his shield tightening as I pull on my own power to ready myself for whatever might come our way.
It comes our way exactly half a minute later when we turn the corner and a pair of guards step into our path out of seemingly nowhere.
Myron’s invisible power flies out in a surprising blast to cover their mouths and muffle their screams as Clio freezes the blood in their veins with one heart-stilling touch. Apparently, his magic is recovering faster now that his focus is on his target and it’s about life and death—not only his own. My breath only returns to normal once Kaira and I grab the two iced-over corpses and drag them a few feet back into the direction we came from and hide them behind a sharp corner.
“That was almost too easy.”
I can’t help but agree when Clio wipes her hands in her tunic, frost disappearing from her fingers like she didn’t just annihilate two lives with a mere touch. I don’t know whether to be in awe or be slightly unsettled.
Awe wins as the female shoots me a grin and waves me closer to her side so I’m wedged between her and Myron, leaving Kaira to follow as we continue our path, eyes and ears open for more guards.
We’re luckier than we deserve. Not one single soldier patrols this part of the dungeon as we move silently along the rows of empty cells. My heart is lighter than it’s supposed to be. Perhaps we’ll get to the cells fast and get at least Silas and Astorian out before we are detected and someone raises an alarm.
“Careful with the bars,” Clio warns, letting Myron take the lead again as the corridor narrows and the ceiling drops into a low, looming structure that will give me nightmares. This is a cage just as bad as my cell at Fort Perenis, and my breath can’t move past my clogged throat. “They might be painted with the magic-nullifying drug.”
We all keep our arms close to our bodies, careful not to touch the iron framing our path.
“Breathe,” Kaira instructs the same moment Myron glances over his shoulder, face drawn with concern.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, directing my attention to the details my human eyes were never able to see: hues of green where moss grows between the rocks making up the structure above, fragments of quartz so tiny I’d usually overlook them sticking out of the smooth rocks. The whisper of Clio’s braid against her shirt. My own hair getting caught on the rough-spun linen of my shirt.
And footsteps. Heavy, arrhythmical footsteps.
Myron picks up pace, leaving the rest of us to scramble after him as he turns into a mostly open space where the smell of blood and infestation dominates that of all others.
“Silas.” He stops in front of the closest cell, staring at the still form in the corner.
And, damn if they didn’t punch the male into a pulp. Blood is oozing from his nose like he just passed out a moment ago after a heavy beating. His back is scattered with cuts and burns, and his arm?—
My stomach turns as I notice the iron needle sticking out of his flesh as if forgotten by his tormentors—or left in there on purpose.
“Silas,” Myron whisper-shouts again, doing his best to rouse the male from his oblivion while at the same time cautious not to draw the attention of potential guards lingering nearby.
“You haven’t forgotten us after all, Crow King,” a husky, mocking voice prompts from a few feet away, and I realize who the footsteps belonged to.
“Tori—” Clio storms past me, stopping a mere inch from the bars that would mean losing her magic all over again. Thank the Guardians, her rational mind is still in place at the sight of her bruised and battered mate limping up to face her through the iron fence.
“If I’m far enough gone to hallucinate you, Cliophera, I might be beyond saving.” His voice breaks as he reaches through the bars with one shaking hand, stopping a breath from Clio’s face as if anxious she might disappear at a touch.
True to herself, Clio swallows her sob before it can wrestle up her throat. “Stop the serenades and tell me how to get you out instead.” She wraps her fingers around his, a shiver visibly running through both of them as they connect, and pulls him a step farther toward her so his face is mere inches from the bars. “You stupid male got yourself trapped and caught searching for me.”
He’s so still I don’t believe he’s breathing, and neither am I—neither are any of us as Clio’s panic and frustration break out of her in the only way she seems to allow herself to let them.
“I couldn’t sit by and wait while you were the Guardians knew where.”