I didn’t think, I just moved us into the heavy realm of the sub-dimension, moving our bodies away from the rock that would otherwise destroy us and, hopefully, into the warm sanctuary of the Rioseco Abbey.
Wyn
Chapter Fourteen
No one came back. Not Sain, Ryland, or even Cail. They all left and they never came back.
It had been at least a week since Edmund had removed the others from our prison and I still lay there, in the dark. At least I think it had been a week. There was no easy way to track the passage of time when you spend all of it, day in and day out, in the dark. I had slept six times, and someone had brought the daily glass of muddy water seven times.
One glass not two, just like there was only one maggot covered loaf of bread.
Just like Talon hadn’t woken up.
A week alone in the dark, with only my husband’s limp hand for company. I slept next to him, my arms around as much of him as I could reach as I dreamed of the beautiful girl and of the Henry the Eighth wanna-be, but never of the torture. I was glad that the dreams of torture had left. I had enough torture in my waking life.
I still hurt from what Cail had done to me a week ago. My joints still ached, and my skin was still tender to the touch. But I could move, although not a lot and not very fast. I could manage to move from one corner to another, it was enough movement to enable me to reach the glass of water and still be able to lie next to Talon, which is where I had spent most of my time.
I clung to him in the dark, pressing his hand against my face, prodding him in the hopes that he would wake up.
But he didn’t. He stayed still, a high pitched wheeze occasionally issuing from his mouth as his chest slowly rose and fell, his skin getting hotter and hotter. The fever that had appeared two days ago was increasing by the hour.
I ran my fingers over his skin, the heat feeling like hot stones in summer under the pads of my fingers. I kept hoping that he would cool down, but so far, nothing I had done had helped. Not that there was much I could do.
I was helpless. With very little water to cool him and no magic to heal him, I didn’t know what I should try next. I wasn’t even able to speak to him. I was trapped in a nightmare of torment, and all the while, Sain’s words still echoed in my head.
It will be soon.
I refused to put thoughts behind the words. I refused to let the meaning behind them move into my mind. Even if it already had, I wouldn’t accept it.
I shifted my weight and crawled slowly toward the filthy glass that sat in the corner of the cell. My fingers clutched at the stone floor, moving over sand, dirt, and bits of what I could only assume were rodent bones, until they gently hit the hard surface of the glass. I fidgeted through the air until my hands wrapped around it, the grit on the glass feeling like slime underneath my hands. I clutched the glass to my chest, the small amount of fluid that was left in the bottom as precious as gold.
I shuffled back to Talon, my knees screaming in horror as my weight rested on them in my movements, the water suspended between my hands. I felt in front of me for the bars, terrified of going too far, of losing my balance and dropping the glass. It took a few tries, and an extraordinarily large amount of pain, before I found him again, the warmth of his skin heating the air around him.
With shaking fingers, I scooped the water from the glass and pressed it against his skin. I trickled it against his lips and into his mouth. Over and over, I moved, pressed, and sprinkled the water over him, only to have it evaporate into the damp air the second it touched his scalding flesh. I held my damp fingers against him, hoping to keep the water against him longer, hoping the chill of my own skin would serve as an equalizer.
Something deep inside of me was pleading for me to accept that this was hopeless, begging me to save the water for myself, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t abandon him. I would sacrifice myself for him until the very end. Half for me and half for him. Always.
“I love you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. It was all I could risk. But it was the most important thing to say.
I let the now empty glass clatter to the stone floor, my body giving out to collapse against the bars and slide across the slime covered surface to the floor the moment my job was done. A small gasp escaped my lips as I hit the stone floor a little harder than expected.
I turned toward Talon, my hands clinging to him as my body attempted to fall asleep.
I would have, if it weren’t for the footsteps somewhere above me, moving toward me. I don’t know if it was the whisper, the clatter of the glass, or the groan as I had hit the floor, but something had reminded them of my existence. I had survived a week in relative security. Now that was being shattered.
The footsteps were faster than I had ever heard and the voices behind them louder, angrier. I clung to Talon, my overgrown fingernails digging into him as someone began their decent down the stairs and toward me.
“It’s only been a week, sir,” Timothy said, slightly out of breath. “You can’t expect him to have finished her off by now?”
“I can expect anything I want, Timothy,” Edmund spat, the footsteps stopping as he spoke, “Don’t make me put you in your place old friend. You have been with me from the beginning, but that does not mean you are on the same pillar as I.”
There was a pause, a pause that lasted an eternity of heartbeats and tingling nerve endings. I had no idea what they were talking about, and I didn’t care. The only thing in my mind was how close they were.
“Sorry, sir,” my father gasped, the footsteps resuming almost immediately. Everything clenched as they came closer, my brain panicking in fear of why Edmund was coming down.
“I gave him a deadline, and I expect results. If he needs a little persuasion, then so be it.” Edmund’s voice grew louder as a bright light blasted through my closed eyelids. I held as still as I could, knowing that no matter how much pretending I did, it wouldn’t stop them. The mere fact that Edmund was down here spelled danger for me.
“But are you sure this is the way?” Timothy said, disgusted.
“You should have seen his face when I threatened to unbind the curse,” Edmund said, “This is the way.”
Their voices were right outside my cell now, their conversation ending as iron bars grated together.
“Put him in that end cell down there, and then you can go.”
Footsteps, the grinding of iron, and the rattling of chains. I heard Sain grunt and I fought the urge to turn toward him, my arm jerking on its own before I could stop it. They had brought him back. Ryland was not with him, which could only mean that they had begun their attempt to kill Joclyn.
“Get up, Wynifred.”
I froze; my father’s voice was deep with warning. I knew I needed to obey, but didn’t want to face whatever Edmund had in store for me.
“Come on, Wynifred,” Edmund coaxed, his voice sweet and condescending. “Listen to your father.”
I didn’t want to listen, but I also didn’t want to push it. I moved a bit and began to push myself up to sit, my weak arms shaking as I lifted myself. My joints groaned at me as I moved, and I gasped before letting my body weight rest against the bars, my head flopping back as I looked at them.
“Hello, father,” I said with as much ire as I could, but my weak voice swallowed my pride.
“Why, Wynifred,” Edmund said, ignoring my comment to my father, “you are looking well, better than I think I have ever seen you.”
He smiled at me as he squatted, bringing himself to eye level. I clenched my jaw and scowled at him, not wanting to know what was coming.
“Not going to say hello?”
“No. I’m not.” I narrowed my eyes, daring him to continue, begging him to finish me.
“Not going to ask after my welfare?” he asked, his voice still irritatingly calm.
I stayed still, my jaw clenched. A feeling I could not place was forming in the base of my spine. It was pure irritation blended with spite and it created an emotion I h
ad never felt before.
“Hmmm, no matter,” Edmund said and smiled. “By the time I am done with you, you will be begging me to say ‘hello’.”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I just stared at him as the door opened, his body taking a few steps in before he towered above me.
“Stand, Wynifred.” I almost laughed at him. It was a miracle I was able to move myself to sitting. Standing was out of the question.
“Not going to obey your Master?” Edmund asked, and I flinched, words that I knew I should never say to his face tumbling off my tongue before I could stop them.
“You are not my Master.”
“Well, not anymore, maybe,” he smiled, his hand patting the top of my head harshly. The weight of his touch sent me sliding down against the bars. “But once upon a time.”
I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. He was right. Once upon a time, I did bow to his every command. I looked away from his towering form, burying my face in the bars to look toward Talon, my eyes seeing for the first time what the darkness had not shown me.
His eyes were sunken in, and his skin was pale and covered with a thick layer of sweat. His eyes twitched as he laid still, his lips moving as he mumbled in his sleep.
He didn’t have much time left.
I fought the desire to turn to him, to cling to him, even to plead with Edmund to heal him. Each thought was wiped from my mind as Edmund spoke, his next words barely having meaning for me.
“Years ago you would do my bidding with only a smile and a swish of your hips,” I kept my eyes on Talon as he spoke, my ears focused on the tap of Edmund’s feet against the stone around me as he moved.
“Well, until you betrayed me.”
He stooped down beside me, careful to balance his weight on his toes and not touch the filthy ground that surrounded me. I kept my sight on Talon until Edmund’s long fingers turned my head toward him, so that my eyes had no choice but to stare into his. I would not give in. I would not close my eyes in fear, not in these last moments.
“Tell me, how long did Cail help you? How did you help him to block the Štít?”
My confidence broke, confusion weaseling its way into my expression as I looked at him. I had no idea what he was talking about. I wasn’t going to tell him that, however. I wasn’t going to give into the game he was obviously playing. I would not place myself inside of his trap.
“Did you do the same to Ryland?”
I waited, his eyes digging in to mine. He glared into me, his patience leaving as he slammed my head into the metal bars behind me.
“Answer me!” he roared, his hand pushing me back into the bars again. I howled at the pain, my hands moving toward my head in an attempt to ease the pressure.
They had only made it halfway before the heavy iron shackles snaked through the air to wrap around my wrists. The large bands jerked me away from the bars, my body dragging against the stone as the chains pulled me back against the wall, my arms extending above my head.
“What did you do?” Edmund roared, his face coming within inches of mine. I looked away from him and toward my father, who stood by the stairs with a wicked smile turning up his lips. I looked at Sain, who sat against the bars of his cell, his green eyes narrowed at me in both warning and expectation.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, my voice strained from the awkwardness of the position that Edmund had placed me in.
Edmund’s eyes narrowed at me, his face moving in close until his nose was only an inch away from my face, his polar blue eyes the only thing left for me to focus on.
“Don’t lie to me,” he warned. “Tell me what else he did when he stopped your father’s curse and tried to save your life. Tell me what happened when he put those pretty marks on your skin.” Edmund dragged his finger along the dark marks as he spoke, his finger pressing painfully against my bruises.
I cringed against the pain, my eyes narrowing at him. Cail didn’t try to save my life, he had tried to kill me. Just as my father had, but the curse misfired and instead marked my skin.
“N…no,” I managed to stutter out, my confusion growing.
“What secret did Cail hide inside your pretty little mind?”
“What?” I gasped, unable to keep my confusion at bay any longer. But Edmund only smiled as he closed the gap between us and pressed his cheek against mine. I felt the uncomfortable warmth of his skin and the iciness of his blood pulsing just underneath the surface.
“Don’t worry, Wynifred, you will remember everything soon.” He smiled and moved away from me, the chains around my wrists tightening, lifting me up so I could only balance on the balls of my feet.
“I’m sorry, sir, but what exactly are you saying?” I guess I wasn’t the only one who was confused. My father looked between us as he too tried to fit together the missing pieces.
Edmund, however, seemed to be enjoying keeping more than one person in the dark. He smiled as he turned to face me again.
“You remember that night, don’t you, Timothy?” Edmund taunted, his eyes feeling like warm lasers cutting into my brain.
“Texas, 1867. A simple assignment – kill Thom. After four hundred years of flawlessly killing every person I commanded her to, Wynifred here missteps. She tells me Thom is in Texas and not in Italy as I had already ascertained. So off she goes to Texas, to kill the father of her child. But I see through it, and I follow her…”
My mouth opened automatically, my jaw working in disbelief. Four hundred years of working for Edmund, a child, Thom…none of this was my life.
“That never…”
“That never happened?” Edmund asked, his cynical voice twisting the meaning behind my words. “You don’t remember it? Then tell me what you do remember.”
He arched his eyebrows, his lips curling in a wicked half smile as he waited.
That night. The night when I got the marks, I remembered it perfectly. The flash of light, my brother’s face, the yelling. I remember feeling scared. I remember…I don’t…what was said? My jaw worked its way open and shut like the jaws of a fish as my brain tried to find the words to answer his questions.
“Don’t remember what happened? How about your childhood? What happened then?” He had moved closer, but I barely noticed. My childhood…I couldn’t remember. I could see faces, feel emotions, but exactly what happened…how…there was nothing there.
“Can’t remember can you?”
“What are you saying, Edmund? We’ve always known about her memory loss…”
“Yes, but what if her memory loss, her change in personality, what if it wasn’t a result of Cail’s attempts to bind your curse. What if he did it intentionally, to hide something?” Edmund ran his finger along my jaw, his eyes still boring into me.
I wanted to deny everything he had said. I wanted to tell him the truth. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say something I couldn’t remember…I couldn’t remember…
What did I know?
I was Wynifred, born in about 1795, exiled in 1867. I had a father, Timothy, and a brother, Cail. Ilyan killed my mother in…. He killed her because…. My father gave me the marks because I was caught giving information to Ilyan…. They caught me in…Texas?
Why couldn’t I remember?
My eyes grew wide, Edmund’s smile following suit.
“What secret did Cail lock in your mind, Wynifred?”
My eyes fluttered around the room, from Talon’s still body, curled on the cold ground, to my father, to Sain, looking for anyone to give me a different explanation. Sain looked at me and nodded once. No, this couldn’t be.
“Time to open the lock, Wynifred.”
Edmund smiled as he placed his hand against my skull, his magic rushing into me. I screamed as the pressure moved into my brain, the heat flooding through me as the force increased. I heard my own scream echo in my ears as Edmund’s powerful magic threatened to rip me apart. It opened up my mind and let everything out.
My head throbbed and pulsed as things I had l
ong since forgotten filled me. Memories that I had wanted to stay locked away came flooding back – the beautiful child’s screams and the Henry the Eighth wanna-be suddenly making sense.
I remembered everything.
Chapter Fifteen
I remembered everything.
“What do you mean, ‘he wants us to have a baby’?” I spat, turning toward Thom.
Thom stood in the middle of my large room, that awful hat twisting through his fingers. Curse the ridiculous British King for such a style. It made Thom look like a peacock.
“Just that, Lady Wynifred. He has commanded it.” I gaped at him, my mind working just enough to let me turn away from him.
I could see him through my mirror, his bright blue eyes boring into me from underneath that curly hair he had inherited from his father, and the sandy color had come from his mother. He narrowed his eyes and went back to twirling the hat. The poor boy looked absolutely traumatized, and I didn’t blame him. What was King Edmund thinking?
“You are sure this message is for me?” I asked, the laugh barely disguised in my voice.
“Yes.” I could see him continually turning that hat in his hands. Round and round it went. I shook my head and looked away, not wanting his stress to leach into me.
“Are we to be bonded then?” My voice was as uninterested as I could make it, my focus more on the ornate hairbrush Cail had given me for my birthday than on the Prince behind me. It wasn’t the first time Edmund had tried to force me into a bonding, but to use his own son this way was a little surprising.
“No.”
“No?” I wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or upset. This was the oddest request his majesty had ever given me. You don’t often send executioners into a wedding bed, especially without a wedding. I guess it was one of the perks of being a woman and under Edmund’s control. He thought he could tell me who to sleep with as well as who to kill.
“Does this upset you?” I smiled, Thom’s usual haughty demeanor coming back strong. It was unsurprising; men hated it when you insulted their masculinity.
Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3) Page 15