“They’re calling you vile names and making up stories that are so ridiculous, it’s almost comical.” There was a mirthless smile on Jennifer’s face, her posture perfect. Kelia would be slumped against the wall already thanks to the soft sway in her back. “I’ve received a lot of attention simply because I am…was…your roommate.”
Kelia grinned. “Are thanks in order?”
“Not the good kind of attention,” Jennifer corrected. “Although, I suppose it would have been good attention to the old Jennifer. The new one, the one with more awareness of what’s happening and what’s going on…” She let her voice trail off and shook her head. “Nobody suspects me of helping you. I completely got away with it.”
“That’s a good thing,” Kelia said between bites of meat.
“Of course,” Jennifer said with a nod. “Of course it is. And I’m glad. It’s just, people think I’m stupid, don’t they?” She looked at Kelia expectantly for only a moment before shaking her head. “I apologize. This is not about me right now. I did not come down here to complain about how everyone perceives me when you are experiencing much worse than I could imagine.”
Kelia swallowed her food before shrugging her shoulders. She cried out, surprised at how much pain shot through her body. “The old Kelia would have cared,” she said in a soft voice. “The new one…not so much.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” Jennifer asked, her eyes shining brightly. “Between you and Drew Knight?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard what happened,” Kelia murmured.
She arched her back, testing out different movements now that her stomach was filled with food. It had to have been at least a day since her encounter with Drew Knight.
“I know what people are saying,” she pointed out in a low voice. “That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true. As handsome and as charming as the Sea Shadow is legend to be, I cannot help but think you would be one of the few able to resist him.”
Kelia felt the corners of her lips tilt up. That sounded like a compliment, if she ever heard one.
“I cannot go into the details of the complicated nature of our relationship, Jennifer,” she finally told her friend. “However, I will say he is completely unlike the way I expected him to be. And, between you and me, I trust him more than I trust most, which is something I thought wasn’t possible.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened. “I believe you told me such a thing before,” she said. “Can you at least tell me if he’s as handsome as his portrait makes him out to be? Is it wrong I find him so devastatingly beautiful?”
“You cannot help yourself when it’s a fact,” Kelia took a small sip of water, careful not to overdo it. Her stomach was twisting with the amount of food she had just consumed, and she did not want to vomit onto the floor of her cell. “He is striking—a man you cannot completely look at in one glance. You need time to take him in, to really see what you are looking at.”
Jennifer’s eyes danced with mischievousness. “Be careful, my friend,” she warned. “You almost sound romantic, and we could not have that. Especially not with a Slayer and a Sea Shadow.”
Kelia’s cheeks burned, but she was not as disgusted by the idea as she previously would have been. She did not believe it, of course. The idea that she and Drew Knight could be anything other than what they were was preposterous. But the thought was not as impossible as it had once seemed.
“I should go,” Jennifer said. “They’ll wonder where I am.”
Kelia nodded, then took one last sip of water before sliding the tray back to Jennifer. “Thank you,” she said. “For the food. And the company.”
“Of course, Key,” she said. “I will not abandon you.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Key, I have heard rumors…rumors of what they could do to you. Perhaps…perhaps it might be best if you left. If your Shadow offers you the opportunity to leave, consider taking it.”
“I am not leaving, Jennifer,” Kelia said.
“Key, they plan to—”
“No.” Kelia had not meant to snap, but she did not want to explain herself once more. “I’m. Not. Leaving.” Each word was clipped, reiterating Kelia’s sentiment.
Jennifer closed her mouth, prepared to say more. She seemed to back down, which Kelia appreciated. “Be careful, my friend.”
After one last smile, Jennifer was gone, leaving Kelia alone once more.
Chapter 28
It was only a matter of time before word got out that Christopher somehow managed to escape his silver-infused prison. Kelia knew Jennifer would not say anything. In fact, there was a good chance Jennifer did not know about Christopher in the first place. It could have been one of the guards who first noticed Christopher’s absence, since they were instructed to patrol the prison once or twice a night. The only threat Christopher really posed, however, was being an arrogant gentleman who was in complete control of his mind and his mouth but chose not to use that control if he could help it.
However, Christopher’s escape did do something that would infuriate the council, and that was revealing the silver-infused prison they boasted about was a lie. Something was coated on the bars, that much was certain, but it most definitely was not silver. For this reason and this reason alone, Kelia could not help but be glad Christopher was gone. That both Drew and Christopher were far away from here, safe, and doing whatever it was Sea Shadows did.
Kelia was not fed for the next two days. She assumed it was because The Society thought she had something to do with the Infant’s escape since she was not affected by the gel, but that was an idiotic assumption, considering Kelia was also incredibly injured and could barely move. No one came down to discuss punishment. No one came down to lecture her. Instead, they increased the number of guards patrolling the prison.
Like it made a difference, considering she was the only person down here now and was in no shape to attempt an escape.
Not that she wanted to.
She was still adamant that she should not leave The Society until she acquired the answers she desperately sought. She knew her father was murdered, that much was true. And she knew The Society—and more specifically, the East India Company—was responsible for creating Sea Shadows in the first place. She also knew her father had stumbled across that information as well.
But there were still holes in the story. There were still questions that needed to be answered.
It wasn’t a surprise when she heard familiar footsteps walk down the long stairway and head over to her cell. She was able to sit up now, though she had to keep her back as straight as a wooden plank. It was progress, however, something Kelia was grateful for. She did not like to be sidelined due to injury, and, considering the environment here was not conducive to open wounds and healthy healing, she was trying to stay vigilant about ensuring she did not get an infection. She pulled herself up into a standing position, but she had to lean her entire body weight in the corner of the cell.
When she saw Rycroft stand in front of her cell, she paused. His hands were behind his back, which wasn’t what gave her a sign that something was going on. Something off. He seemed too happy, although happy wasn’t exactly the word she would have used to describe the expression on his face. His thin lips were pulled into a grin that pinched his cheeks but did not reach his eyes. He was by himself, his beady eyes locked in on her frame, and studied her thoroughly.
She was still wearing the same outfit she had been in when they went to capture Drew Knight and his crew of Sea Shadows. It had probably been a week since, she thought. Keeping track of the date was difficult with no windows and no doors, no way to see what was going on around them outside. But she knew it was a week or so. She desperately needed a wash, even if the water was ice. She could feel the grime sink into her skin and coat it like it was some sort of second layer of clothing.
She felt disgusting.
With Rycroft standing there in his pristine outfit, pressed and crisp, fitted precisely to his form, she felt like a beggar on the street who ha
d no shame due to how desperate they were. She hated that feeling, that wretched feeling of unworthiness. That she would never feel comfortable in her own skin because she did not fit within the rigid confines of what was expected.
She had fit before, like a piece of a puzzle. But then she acquired a deep understanding of the truth, of what that meant, of how she did not actually fit in at all because she refused to belong to a society that outright lied to their Slayers.
Now, instead of a puzzle piece, she was her own entity. She did not look like anyone else anymore; the hard knowledge stayed in her eyes, the thin line of frustration lived in her lips, and the scars of the truth littered her back like battle wounds she had acquired during a fight. There was no way for her to fit in, not anymore.
“I’m surprised to see you conscious,” Rycroft began. He did not speak loudly, but his voice seemed to boom off the walls. “You have more fight in you than I originally gave you credit for.”
“Is that a compliment?” Kelia asked, not bothering to hide the bitterness from her tone.
Rycroft shrugged. “Take it what you will,” he said. “Are you going to ask why I am here? It’s not for a personal visit, though I do find the times I spend with you more and more pleasant.”
Kelia shrugged, and it took everything in her not to wince at the pain in her back. “I do not question my superior Slayers,” she said, her voice innocent and unassuming.
Rycroft’s grin deepened, but it did not reach his eyes.
“I doubt that,” he muttered. “No, I’m here to administer a punishment you rightly deserve for helping the Infant escape from his silver-infused prison. I think ten lashes would do well, what about you?”
Kelia blanched at the thought. Ten more lashes? She was barely healing as it was. If Drew Knight hadn’t gotten to her when he had, there was a good chance she would have caught an infection and died. Now, however, her chances of getting an infection had grown worse. She did not care that Rycroft was assessing her with obvious glee in his eyes, a smile on his face that pushed his cheeks up even more than they already were.
His hands came out from behind his back so they could rest in front of him, and she clenched her teeth when she noticed the whip dangling from his fingers like an afterthought. She did not even care that Rycroft could clearly see the fear in her face, that he enjoyed it more than he should enjoy the torture of a seventeen-year-old girl.
Her throat had suddenly grown dry, and it was difficult for her to speak. Her eyes were focused solely on the whip. Just because there were a protective shield of bars protecting her from Rycroft did not mean he still could not get to her. She felt her body start to cool, despite the pain that it caused in her back. She wanted to be away from him, away from here. Perhaps she should have allowed Drew to take her away from here. She wouldn’t solve her father’s death if she was dead.
“You and I both know I did not assist Christopher with escaping,” Kelia said.
“Is that so?” Rycroft asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do you not have the ability to pick locks?”
“Every Slayer has the ability to pick locks,” Kelia retorted. “It is one of the first skills you teach us. How to get out of a bind.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Rycroft asked. “That such a skill seems to have gotten you into more of one.” He reached in his pocket with his left hand, then pulled out a chain of keys.
When Kelia saw them, she immediately recoiled, taking a step back and then another.
“Certainly you had to know what was going to happen when the guards stumbled upon the missing Shadow,” Rycroft said as he stepped towards the cell and proceeded to unlock it. “You make idiotic choices, but even I can admit that you’re rather bright, for a woman.” He lifted his dancing eyes so his gaze locked with Kelia’s. “Although, perhaps you should refrain from admitting you’re familiar with the Shadows. Calling them by their first names will do you more harm than good.” He paused. “Maybe you are stupider than I give you credit for.”
Kelia let the insult roll off her like water. She did not care what he said to her as long as it prolonged that whip from cracking against her back. From opening scabbed wounds. From causing pain to sear through her body and paralyze her momentarily.
“Come over here,” he instructed.
Kelia shrank back, but could not bring it in herself to say no. She did not know if it was because she did not want to show weakness or if it was because she feared the pain she knew would come with the lashing, but she could not bring herself to speak.
“You don’t think I won’t go in there myself, step in your piss and shit, rip your hair as I drag you out here, and then give you fifteen lashes simply for defying me?” he asked, his voice low and lethal.
Kelia was unsure of how to respond. Her eyes filled with frustrated tears, and she hated herself for even allowing them to accumulate in her eyes. She felt broken. She felt beaten, both figuratively and literally. She had no choice but to get out of her cell unless she wanted an extra five lashes. There was a small, quieter part of her that still wanted to rebel, that wanted to make him come into her cell, to fight. But then that would give her more trouble than it was worth. She would be punished even more if she resisted. But her spirit would remain untarnished.
Kelia stayed where she was, tilting her chin up defiantly. She was certain fear was in her eyes. She was not too proud to admit she was afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid of the pain. Afraid of the consequences. But she would not bend. She would not break. Maybe her flesh, maybe her bones, but she would not allow her spirit to be controlled by this man. By this society.
Instead of being angry, Rycroft grinned. “I had hoped you would put up a fight,” he said.
He pulled open the door of the cell. The loud creak of the rusted metal pierced the silence and echoed in her ears. She did not try to run when Rycroft lunged for her, bit her bottom lip so hard it bled so she would not emit a sound when his fingers dug into her scalp.
Rycroft did as he said he would. He had not lied about that. He yanked her out of the cell by the root of her hair until she was standing outside. Her back screamed in agony at the way she was coiled against Rycroft, but she could not ease the tension anywhere when the pain was everywhere.
He threw her on the ground and placed a foot on the small of her back so she would not be able to get up. She grunted but did not scream, even though she wanted to. Angry tears rolled down her cheeks, but she did not whimper. She did not even bother to attempt to struggle against him. She would take the fifteen lashes and if she needed to, she would scream and she would cry, but she would not break.
“I see your wounds are healing surprisingly well,” Rycroft said. She could feel his eyes study her back. She could picture him sliding those spectacles up his nose. She wanted to crush them beneath her feet. “I would say you had a friend helping you heal, but certainly that would be preposterous.”
Kelia could not tell if he was being genuine or not. He seemed to suspect she had help with healing, which made sense because experiencing ten lashes with no medical attention and being in a dank environment that was dirty at best, she probably should have an infection and be suffering from those complications. There was also the fact Christopher had mysteriously escaped, and Rycroft knew she was too sick, too incapacitated to have helped him.
However, if Rycroft was fishing for answers, she did not plan on biting.
Instead, she stared at the black ground. Whatever she did—she could scream, she could grunt, she could whimper—but she would not cry. She would never shed a tear for The Society again.
Without warning, the first lash ripped open her back, and she could feel the sharp sting of her wound splitting open and meeting air. She clenched her teeth to hold back a scream. Her eyes filled with water, but she refused to let the tears fall. She knew that, she accepted it, but she would continue to do so for as long as she needed.
The second lashing came down just as hard as the first. This time, she couldn’t hold back her scream.
Rycroft chuckled behind her, but Kelia did not care. She would endure this. She would survive. She had to.
Kelia started to feel numb after the sixth lash. By the eighth, she could barely hold onto consciousness. This did nothing to stop Rycroft and instead, he continued to administer the lashes as though she had not collapsed. Tears rolled freely down her face. She could not stop them if she tried.
There was part of training that taught how to control thoughts, which would, in turn, help her control her actions. Control was not something Kelia was good at. Drew Knight had told her as much, as had her father. The class focused on meditation and quieting the mind to find peace.
Kelia hadn’t particularly excelled at such a thing, though she had tried. Some students who did thrive said they did not feel pain, that they were so focused on what was going on in their head the outside world faded away into nothingness. She did not know at the time if such a thing was possible, if she could believe such a statement. Now, she wished she had practiced enough to at least try.
After the tenth lash, Rycroft abruptly stopped. For a moment, Kelia nearly sobbed with relief. He was going to stop. He was not going to push it to fifteen. She had never been more grateful for anything in her life, save for Drew Knight and his balm.
“If you hadn’t been so foolish, so stubborn, we would have ended here,” he told her. “But you had to fight. You will get five more for your insubordination.”
Kelia started to laugh. It was almost too amusing not to. He probably thought she was mad.
As the lashes continued, she jumped into unconsciousness with a smile on her face.
Chapter 29
Drew leaned against the helm of his ship, his dark eyes toward the horizon. He itched to be back at sea, back to where the ocean expanded in every direction and land could not be seen by the human eye. However, he had a task he needed to complete and a plan he needed to edit and execute. Christopher had taken up residence on his ship as though it belonged to him, which should have annoyed Drew but did not. He was too focused on Kelia, and how she was. If only she had left with him…
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