novelraw Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Nadia shifted on the cold stone floor, wincing as the manacles on her ankles rubbed the raw skin underneath. Focusing on her a’mi, she created a cushion of air between her skin and the metal. The guard outside the wooden door of her cell shifted, and looked in at her.
Ignoring him, she blew her hair out of her face. She’d been locked in this cell for hours listening to the moans and rattling chains of other prisoners echoing down the stone hall that led away from her door. She was bored. A shudder moved through her body. And cold. Pulling at the rough sack they’d forced over her head after stripping her of her own clothing, she glared down at her bare, exposed legs. The sorry excuse for clothing provided no comfort against the cold stones at her backside. Nor did it stop her skin from pebbling into a solid mass of gooseflesh. She shivered again, and hugged herself tighter.
With nothing to occupy her time, she kept seeing the hurt and anger in Gregor’s eyes replay over and over in her mind. What had he been told about her? Who had told him?
The stomp of boots sounded down the hall. They moved closer then stopped outside her door. The guards muttered to each other, too low for her to hear, then the old guard left and a new guard looked through the door’s opening, and winked at her.
“Gordon?” Nadia smiled and studied the face which looked a good ten years younger without the wild growth of gray sprinkled beard covering his face.
“Geeta sent this,” said the old guild man’s familiar voice as he pushed a small glass vial through the bars.
She clasped his hand through the bars. “You look so handsome all cleaned up and dressed in the king’s uniform. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Gordon blushed. “That’s the point, Lady Shark. Here, we haven’t much time. Prince Stefan will be here shortly.” He handed her quill, ink, and a small strip of paper.
Nadia nodded and peeled back the vial’s wax seal. She smoothed open the strip of paper and read Geeta’s neat script.
The little fish swims. What do I say about your prolonged absence? The Teniente has disappeared.
Her heart sank at the last part. She picked up the quill and quickly wrote a reply.
Tell the little fish the truth and the importance of making it safely to true kin. The taciturn woman is in charge until the Teniente reappears.
She placed both scraps of paper back into the vial and replaced the seal, mashing the wax down the best she could. She slipped them back through the bars into Gordon’s waiting hands.
The older man took the vial, quill and ink and stuffed them into this tunic pockets. “You sure know how to get yourself into a right pickle, don’t ya lass?” Gordon said, a smile softening his wry comment. “Sarna said there’ll be a carriage waiting when you decide to get yourself out of here. She asked that you not hang around so long they actually succeed in offing you.”
Nadia smiled, thankful for her friends. “Escaping is a last resort. If I disappear, it’ll confirm my guilt. I can’t do that to Gregor.”
The older man’s gaze softened. “If you don’t eventually tell him the truth, someone else will do it for you, and then he’ll believe you didn’t consider him worth the truth. Some hurts are much harder to get over than others.”
“I put him in an impossible position if I tell him,” she said. “It would be selfish.”
The older man reached through the bars and squeezed her hand. “You’re taking the choice from him. Either you trust him or you don’t. To see it any other way is selfish.”
Voices echoed down the stairs and Gordon, with a final squeeze of her hand, moved away from the door. He’d no more than returned to his post when a group of soldiers in Prince Stefan’s colors appeared at the other end of the hall.
Nadia jerked away from the door and quickly smoothed her hair neatly behind her ears. As the group got closer, she stood to her full height. Keys rattled in the door’s lock, then it was pulled open. Two guards marched in. They shoved her against the wall and patted her down for weapons. She clenched her jaw, as her cheek scraped roughly against cold stone.
Her a’mi stirred, reaching behind her as more booted feet entered her cell. And she knew he was there. The two guards, satisfied that she hadn’t managed to magically pull a weapon from the air, roughly yanked her around. Prince Stefan, flanked by a blank faced Gregor and three more of his personal guard, stood studying her with a cold expression. Nadia had eyes only for Gregor. A muscle pulsed in his cheek, but his expression remained bland. Nadia wanted to get him alone, and force him to tell her what he’d been told so she could explain…” Explain what? That you lied to him. Pretty sure he’s figured that out.
“You dared to enter my home and eat at my table, while all the time plotting against my family for something we had no part in? I must admit, Lady de Quinones, I wasn’t expecting such a plot from Diomere,” Prince Stefan said. “Especially from members of the very family to which I’m betrothed.”
Nadia jerked her attention away from Gregor as the crown prince’s words sank in. “Plot from Diomere? What are you talking about?”
Prince Stefan studied her face. “Tell me where my brother is”—his eyes darkened—“and he’d better be alive and unharmed, and I’ll simply banish you from our shores rather than take your life.”
“I didn’t take your brother,” she said, raising her chin as she finished the statement silently. Areisteo is my nephew, not your brother. And she wouldn’t give him up just to save her own skin.
Prince Stefan turned to Gregor. “I’ll leave her in your capable hands, Lord Cyrene. You’ve full use of the King’s Questioner if that’s what it takes. I want my brother safe in the palace by first light.”
Gregor bowed as the prince and his guard filed out of the cell, and made their way out of the dungeon. Once alone, Gregor turned and studied her in silence.
She met his gaze and smirked. “Did I not hear that Prince Reis was nearly killed not too long ago while safe in your palace? And now he’s been abducted from right beneath your nose?”
Gregor lunged forward, pushing her against the wall, and wrapping his hand in a loose grip around her neck. “You, no doubt, had something to do with both.” He ran a finger along the edge of her face. “So dangerously beautiful. We could have had something special, you and I. I know you felt it. I hope your attempt at revenge was worth it. Because it cost us both something much more precious.”
“Revenge?” she asked, brows lowered in confusion. “Aside from making you pay for daring to treat me like this, I have no idea what you’re going on about.”
He lowered his forehead, his gaze drilling into hers. “Have you no honor? Do you realize what the royal Questioner is capable of? Even now, I would see you spared such treatment. Tell us where Reis is being held, Nadia.”
She implored him to understand. “Your mad king wants him dead. You can’t protect him, Gregor.”
“You’re one of the Dieuroi’s assassins, aren’t you?”
Nadia jerked her head back as if he’d slapped her. “I would never harm a child.”
Gregor’s eyes narrowed on her. “Not even for revenge?”
“You really think me capable of killing a child for something so petty as revenge, Lord Cyrene?” Nadia snapped, anger heating her face. “What have I ever done to make you believe I would do such a thing? What revenge would warrant such an action?”
“For your nephew’s murder,” Gregor roared. “For the death of the child you’ve been trying to find for twelve years. The death you believe Thuno’s royal family is responsible for.”
She jerked back, having never heard him raise his voice before, and realized Gordon was right. She had to tell him the truth.
“He isn’t dead.” She sighed. “He’s safe.”
“If he’s safe, then why did you kidnap Prince”—Gregor’s jaw dropped—“you think Reis is your nephew,” he whispered.
She looked away.
Gregor grabbed her shoulders, and shook her once. “Do your delusions know no bounds? Dieuroi Mavros wouldn’t have accepted the child as his if he hadn’t been sure.” He lowered his voice. “Your nephew is gone. When will you stop punishing yourself for something that was out of your control? It’s time to move on and live your own life, Nadia. Does the idea of happiness scare you so much? Think about us.”
A knot of disappointment filled her stomach. He didn’t believe her. “Reis is my nephew. I know you were told about what happened when he changed, what he changed into. He is different like me. Surely you’ve figured out that our dreams, which take place on an island left to me by my mother, weren’t just simple dreams.”
Gregor jerked back as if burned. He opened his mouth then closed it, shaking his head. Without another word, he turned on his heel, and walked out of the cell without a backward glance.
Her mind raced. “Gregor,” she called. He paused, but didn’t look back. She clenched her fists at her side. “I want to call in the favor you owe me.”
He stiffened. “I told you I wouldn’t betray my prince.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
He finally looked back over his shoulder. Nadia crushed the spark of hope in her heart.
“For my favor, I ask that you think. Think about the dreams, all of our encounters, what my sister told you. Everything. You’re right, we’re connected. Use that connection and see that everything I did, I did for good reason. Trust your instincts,” she implored him.
He studied her, his face carefully devoid of all emotion, then turned and addressed the guard. “No one is to speak with the prisoner until I get back.”
She rushed to the small barred window and watched his long strides take him farther from her. Did he go seek whether she could be telling the truth? She willed him to believe her. At the stairs leading out of the dungeon, Gregor paused and looked back, his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze inscrutable. He turned, and ascended the stairs out of the dungeon without another word. Pain, a freshly sharpened blade, punched deep into her heart. She slumped against the door. Gordon patted her fingers where they wrapped around the bars, but remained silent.
After only a short time, boots clattered on the stairs, and Nadia jerked her head up. She exhaled, fear a hard knot in her stomach, as three robed figures descended the stairs. Surely it hadn’t already been two hours. The cowled men, dressed all in black, made their way down the damp corridor toward her cell. Each wore a heavy gold ring with a red carnelian stone. A shiver crept down Nadia’s back. She knew the stone would be carved with the goddess, Asha’s hands holding the tree of life, its roots spread deep into holy soil. These men were from Thuno’s royal order of Questioners.
She backed away from the door. Reis’ watery vision flashed in her mind. The cold stones of the wall brushing her back startled her from the tight hold of fear. She squared her shoulders, and stood to her full height. She would not cower. It was past time to make her escape.
Gordon stepped forward. “Lord Cyrene ordered no one save himself is to speak with the prisoner.”
“Prince Stefan has ordered she be put to the Question. Let us in, then go. You’re dismissed.”
Gordon hesitated only a second, then turned to unlock the door, an apologetic look on his face. The cowled men walked in. She clenched her fists. Gregor hadn’t believed her. Inhaling past the crippling pain, she forced herself to focus on her a’mi. She called the symbol for earth as the Questioners surrounded her. The ground had begun to tremble when the Questioner in front of her lowered his hood, revealing familiar dark blue eyes and blond hair.
She released the hold on her a’mi. “Pell! I knew you wouldn’t desert me. Thank the gods. Let’s get out of here.”
He remained where he was, blue eyes icy, and stared at her in silence.
“Pell?” she asked, her heart beginning to sink.
He smiled, but it didn’t soften his gaze. “I’ve been looking forward to this day since I volunteered for this never-ending mission,” he said in a soft voice.
Her eyes began to burn. Betrayed. Again. She clenched her jaw against the sharp stab of the shattered pieces of her heart as she remembered Jasara’s words the night the woman abducted her nephew.
“Remember this, dear cousin, even the weakest can overtake the strongest if they are cunning. Beware treachery from those you don’t consider a threat.”
“I can see you finally understand. Don’t take it personal. My family has aspirations for advancement. Unfortunately, your vow to return your nephew to Diomere threatens that.” He moved closer and smoothed his thumb over her lower lip. “I’ll admit I entertained the idea of sparing your life. We had such a good partnership; I just knew it would translate over into the bed chamber. You really shouldn’t have chosen your precious Lord Cyrene over me.”
Nadia sneered. “It wasn’t a difficult choice.”
He backhanded her. Her neck whipped sideways as fire bloomed along the side of her face. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She pulled her head back around, and saw Gordon peeking through the bars of the door and glaring at the man they’d considered one of theirs. She reached for her a’mi and the five symbols popped into her mind’s eye.
“A choice you’ll soon regret,” Pell promised, bringing her attention back to him. “But first, I need your help accessing our dear prince’s hiding place. Then I’m going to make sure neither of you are ever seen again.”
Nadia silently cursed her decision to trust him with the discovery of the gate cave. “I won’t let you hurt him.” She focused on the symbol for earth, and punched her a’mi into the ground just as something hard connected with her temple.
As she lost her hold on her a’mi, Pell’s voice echoed through the blackness closing over her head. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”