Page 54 of Hearts on Fire

“I love you. I know I should’ve said it earlier, back when you told me you loved me. But these three little words have gotten me in trouble before. It’s so hard for me to finally say them again. But that’s exactly how I feel about you, Elex. I love you.”

Sixteen

AMBER

After a brief stop in Elex’s room to get some clothes to wear under my robe, I hurried to the floor with the kitchen.

I entered thesalamandras’room to grab my bow and quiver. I only had six arrows, but they were made with iron, capable of killing a fae.

Thesalamandrassat on their perches, their heads bowed, their hands primly folded in their laps. I felt a twinge of regret, leaving them behind. Most of them were the victims of their circumstances, and I would’ve loved to take them with me, to free them all somehow.

“Maybe, one day,” I whispered, passing by Zenada.

Her eyes were closed, her features withdrawn. I yearned to hug her goodbye, but I feared my hugs might not be welcomed by her anymore.

The last time I saw Zenada was when the king had chosen me over her. We’d had no chance to speak since then. I just hoped she knew that what happened wasn’t my choice. I didn’t want the king in any way or capacity, and I never intended to cause her any pain.

“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure whether she could hear me. “I hope we’ll meet again.” And I hoped for the sake of us both, it’d be under much better circumstances.

I padded out of the women’s bedroom and went into the kitchen to find some food for the road. After searching through cabinets, crates, and baskets, I packed some bread, fruit, and cheese into my satchel, filled a metal flask with water, then hurried to the side door for the second time that day.

I kept looking over my shoulder, half-expecting someone to jump on me from behind, but no one was chasing me this time. There was no danger of anyone stopping me. I truly was the only person not made of stone in the castle right now.

It was hard to believe, but there was no need to rush or cower.

I stopped on my way to the door and glanced back down the corridor that led to the tower stairs.

Something the king had said when assaulting me earlier snapped to my mind.

“Unlike the venomous ones, you’re not even worth keeping in the dungeon.”

If there was anything lower than the kitchen and the women’s accommodation in this place, it must be the dungeon. And there was no one to stop me from finding it.

Leaving the corridor with the door to my freedom, I went down the tower stairs. It took longer than I’d thought. The stairs seemed to spiral further and further down into the mountain until they finally led me to an arched wooden door in a solid, wrought-iron frame. This had to be the lowest floor as the stairs ended here.

I inspected the door, looking for the lock to pick. But when I pushed at it, the door moved, opening with a soft sound of well-oiled hinges. I entered the wide corridor with a low ceiling.

Torches illuminated the crudely hewn walls and floor. Their flames flickered. It appeared they were expected to go out sometime after sunset, which made sense. Why light the place when no one walked here at night?

Afraid they would go out too soon, I removed one with the strongest flame from its holder on the wall. Holding it in front of me, I headed down the corridor.

Arched openings on either side of the corridor lead to what I assumed must be the king’s holding cells. They had no bars or even doors. But the walls opposite to the entrance held all possible kinds of restraints. Thick chains, leather belts, collars, and manacles of all sizes hung from the rings mounted into the rock.

The first couple of dungeon cells were empty. The chains dangled uselessly. The keys to them hung on the hooks by the entrances. I sensed the cells were unoccupied not due to the king’s benevolence but, as he’d said himself, one had to be “worthy” to be imprisoned rather than just being killed on the spot. The king wouldn’t keep anyone alive at the crown’s expense, unless there was a purpose for that to him.

I stumbled in my step when I came upon the first occupied cell. A man was sitting by the wall here. His head dropped on one shoulder. He must have been asleep when the sunset had caught him. If he were dead, he wouldn’t have turned to stone; he would’ve burned to ash like Weyx had.

A giant lizard was collared in the next cell, with a chain running from its collar to a thick ring on the wall. The chain was stretched tight by two royal guards, bringing the lizard’s head up and making its neck bend back unnaturally. All four legs of the lizard were also manacled and chained to the metal rings in the floor.

The third guard wore a long chain mail apron and gripped a knife in his gloved hand. He stood right in front of the lizard, with a bucket of clear, shimmering liquid positioned at his feet.

It took me but a moment to recognize the gold-brushed ridge running along the lizard’s back.

Isar!

My heart leaped with joy. She was alive.

The despot king wouldn’t dispose of someone as lethal as Isar, especially not during the war he was so eager to win.