by Gwen Knight
I cringed and squeezed shut my eyes.
Once convinced I wouldn’t struggle anymore, they hauled me away from the wall and tossed me through the open doorway. With a sharp cry, I tumbled down the stairs and landed in an ungraceful heap at the bottom.
The jailor strode over, a deep chuckle echoing in the pit. He hoisted me up from the dingy floor, then pitched me into the nearest, darkest cell.
I screamed when he slammed the door shut and sealed me away.
I should have run when I had the chance.
3
The bracelets are an interesting bit of practical magic. These humans appear to generate magic on their own, so allowing them free reign with such power is unacceptable. It took time and caused a great deal of strife among some of the alchemists, but the product is now functional. While the bracelets do not confine us, they limit the humans’ atern as well as track their locations at all times. With such safeguards in place, the humans are checked and unable to roam freely. We must always remember—this is our land, not theirs. They exist because we allow them to.
—A letter from Dask Brooke
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, a prickled warning, as though something was watching me. Hysteria, I told myself. Nothing more than my fear running rampant. I was trapped here, alone in the dark. No windows, no cracks in the walls, nothing to suggest I might ever again see the light of day.
Tears sprang to my eyes as that realization sank in. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.
I staggered backward until I hit the nearest wall and sucked in a deep breath. I had to remain calm. Panicking wouldn’t accomplish anything, and it was far more work to put myself back together than to fall apart. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and counted to ten in my head. Then I pressed my palms against the damp rock walls and followed them around the entire cell until I found the metal door. The sounds coming from outside my cell made me cringe. Screaming and sobbing, begging for forgiveness and food. Would that soon be me?
Revulsion rippled down my spine, and I stumbled away from the door and into the small cot that lined the farthest wall. I refused to touch the damned thing, let alone sit on it.
My only hope was Arik. He’d need me to reap the witches soon. He wouldn’t leave me to rot.
Right?
But what if I were wrong? I’d handed him enough power to last generations. If not longer. Maybe my usefulness had run out.
Panic crawled up my throat. I clapped my hand over my mouth before the scream escaped. The dark wasn’t what terrified me, but rather the confinement. The unknowing. The abyss of nothing staring back at me.
The worst part was that I had no way to measure the passing of time. I stood in the center of the room for what felt like hours, the only marker that of the patrol marching through the corridor beyond my door. Somehow the sound of their steps consoled me. I wasn’t alone down here, no matter how much my terror taunted otherwise.
Eventually, my knees began to shake from exhaustion. I needed to sit, but I refused to so much as look at that cot. Refused to believe that he’d leave me down here for so long that I’d need to make myself comfortable.
Time dragged on, the sound of the patrol in the corridor a dull echo in my ears. I couldn’t stand any longer. Every muscle in my legs ached. I limped over to the cot, wishing I could see it. Heart in my throat, I leaned down and ran a hand over the top. Nothing more than a lumpy mattress.
I braced my palms against the frame and lowered myself onto the edge, my knees burning as I settled down. Finally, I gave in and stretched out atop the cot, head resting near one of the walls. Somewhere above me came the sound of dripping water, soft and soothing. It wasn’t long before it lulled me into a light sleep.
I was dozing, on the cusp of a nightmare, when the sound of jangling keys snapped me awake.
Pushing up from the cot, I jerked when my door swung open, the metal scraping against rock. Torchlight flickered in the corridor, illuminating the squalid walls. I took a moment and eyed my surroundings, then winced at the sight of the mattress beneath me. The lumps were little more than bunched up material, but a smattering of dark stains dotted the covers. My chest tightened, and my breath quickened. Someone had bled down here and likely died.
A figure entered my cell, the firelight illuminating a pale but familiar face.
My heart dropped as I rose to my feet. Dask was the last person I’d expected to see down here. Especially visiting me. Our conversations had always been kept minimal on Arik’s orders—a directive I’d always appreciated. Whereas Arik used his glamour to entice people, Dask used it to frighten.
He lifted his head and flashed a sharp smile. “Evening, Reaper.”
I didn’t respond.
“How are you enjoying your new room?”
Annoyance warmed my cheeks. “Where’s Lord Arik?”
“Sadly, my father won’t be joining us tonight. Come with me.” Without another word, he turned and exited the cell, clearly expecting me to follow without argument.
I didn’t hesitate. I bolted out of the cell, then stumbled to a stop when I found myself facing down a group of ten fae guards. Swallowing, I inched backward. Maybe I should have stayed in my cell.
“This way,” Dask commanded.
As a unit, the guards fanned out and circled me, their hands resting against their sword pommels. Dask ascended the stairs, the torchlight flickering off the walls as he moved. With his every step, the dungeons grew darker, reminding me of my time spent in the cell.
I wrapped my arms around my middle, then followed with my entourage filling in around me. With every upward step, the knots in my shoulders loosened. Maybe this was the end of my punishment. Maybe Arik had ordered Dask to escort me back to my room, but to make a show of it. If so, I’d learned my lesson. I never wanted to return to that cell. I would do anything to keep that from happening.
Even if that meant never seeing Logan or my father again.
My heart ached as that thought bounced around in my head. Never seeing either of them again was a life worse than death. I wasn’t sure what Logan meant to me, but I knew I wanted a chance to find out. Hell, I hadn’t even had a moment to consider what that kiss had meant.
At the top of the stairs, Dask took a left, and I paused. My room was to the right. Where was he leading me?
Something nudged me hard in the back. One of my guards, no doubt. I stumbled forward, barely catching myself against the nearest wall. Anger swelled in the pit of my stomach—not that I could express it. If I so much as glared at them, I was afraid they’d throw me back into the dungeon.
Instead, I tamped down my annoyance and continued after Dask as he led us toward the Grand Hall. He shoved open the door and entered, leaving us all to trail after him.
I stepped inside and came to a stop behind Dask.
He handed over his torch to the nearest guard, then turned to face me. Because of the glamour, I had no idea what Dask truly looked like, but I couldn’t imagine the sharpened teeth and predatory grin were real. Nor the midnight hair cropped close to his head. He seemed to relish his monstrous appearance, and the fear it inspired in others.
“Did you enjoy your adventure out beyond the wall today, Reaper?”
My jaw tightened as I bit back the words hovering on the edge of my tongue.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dask commented when I didn’t respond. “Because it’ll be your last.”
A strained silence filled the room, the guards at my back shifting their armored weight. Though every inch of me ached to tell him what I thought of that little proclamation, I kept quiet. Arguing with Dask never helped a situation.
“Don’t you want to know why?” he taunted.
He stalked toward me and lifted his hand, trailing a clawed finger down my cheek. Inwardly, I cringed, my stomach twisting at the feel of his touch.
He leaned forward and eyed me from beneath his dark lashes. “Come on, Reaper. Ask me why.”
“Fine. Why?”
<
br /> “Why what?” he pressed.
Humiliation warmed the back of my neck. “Why will it be my last time visiting the Foundry?”
“Ah…” He stepped back, his eyes bright with amusement. “I’m so glad you asked. Leith?”
My gaze shifted toward the Captain of the Guard as he moved across the room and activated the nearest holographic screen. The monitor hovered midair, its blue hue lighting up the entire room.
“Go on. Have a look,” Dask commanded.
With a furrowed brow, I did as he asked. I crossed the room, then paused when I caught sight of my father’s house. Everything looked just as it had when I’d left. “What am I looking for?”
“Just watch,” Dask stated.
I released a long breath and nocked my fists on my hips. Typical Dask behavior. Everything was a game to him.
I was about to turn away when I caught movement in the Foundry. I stepped closer, and narrowed my eyes. There, next to the old warehouse was a group of three fae. Two more approached my father’s house. Another walked up to the one of the few shops.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
But before anyone could answer me, the whole Foundry exploded in a ball of fire. Fear iced my veins, and my pulse thundered in my ears. What had he done? My friends, my family…my home, all of it set ablaze.
“No…” I meant for it to come out as a scream, but little more than a whisper escaped my throat. “No. No!” I rushed toward the hologram, heart plummeting in my chest.
People scattered throughout the Foundry, their screams swallowed by the roar of the flames, their faces stricken and smudged with smoke. Everywhere they ran, the blaze followed, and I watched in horror as they succumbed to the inferno.
I stood frozen in front of the floating image, tears streaming down my face as I watched. Fire ravaged the Foundry’s carcass, destroying everything in its path. And it didn’t matter how hard I scoured, I couldn’t find my father or Logan in the chaos. The thought of them dead, charred, lying in the streets…my lungs squeezed tight as I fought for breath.
Crazed with grief, I spun around. “What have you done!”
Dask’s lips curled back. “You were warned the last time we caught you escaping. There are consequences to your actions, Reaper. Tomorrow, we’ll escort you back to your precious Foundry, and you’ll reap all their bodies.”
A hollowness settled over me, thick with despair. I had nothing left in this world, nothing to care about. Nothing to fight for.
My eyes slipped closed, and I fought back a wave of fresh tears. I refused to let Dask see how this affected me. He was a callous bastard; he wanted to witness my pain. No matter how badly I wanted to crumble, I had to stay standing. Had to prove to him that he held no sway over my emotional state. But every bone in my body threatened to break beneath this strain.
“Take her back to her cell,” Dask ordered. “I think a night in the darkness will drive home this lesson.”
The guards reached for me, but the moment they touched me, I cracked. I let loose a terrible cry and whirled out of reach, my chest heaving as I fought to control myself. I had nothing anymore. He’d taken everything. My father, Logan, the Foundry, my home…all gone. Burned to the ground by this sadistic bastard.
Rage swelled in the pit of my stomach, and my hands curled into fists. My magic sparked to life, awakening within me a fury I’d never felt before. The power stretched through my body, breathing new life into me. All I needed was to lay my hands on him, reap his magic, then spit on his corpse. An act I would take perverse enjoyment in.
But before I could move, a pair of strong arms closed around me, clamped my arms down to my sides, and lifted me off the ground. I cried out and thrashed in his grip, feet kicking in the air.
“Stop,” someone whispered in my ear. “You’ll only get yourself killed.”
The soft words made me hesitate. I glanced back and found Arik’s youngest son, Oren, restraining me. Cold, narrowed green eyes regarded me, silently ordering me to calm down. It didn’t help that the guards had surrounded us, their blades drawn and their faces stern.
My heart dropped like a stone, and with a final sigh, I gave up.
Oren released me, then stepped back. I dropped to my knees, unable to stop the tears or the soft sobs. I hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Dask, but now that they’d started, I couldn’t hold them back.
“Remove her,” Dask ordered.
“Brother, I think she’s suffered enough for one day.”
“Really, Oren? Sympathy for a witch?”
I sucked in a shivering breath. The sound of his voice was enough to incite a murderous rage within me. But Oren was right. If I so much as lifted a hand against Dask, his guards would strike me down.
“Sympathy for someone clearly broken,” Oren responded. “Allow me to escort her to her room.”
“Her cell,” Dask said.
Silence fell over the room. I lifted my head and found the two of them staring each other down.
Finally, Oren nodded. “Fine. Her cell. But then you and I need to speak.”
“Later,” Dask responded.
“No, brother. Now.” Tension tightened Oren’s body, his face a grim mask.
“All right. Fine. We’ll speak.” He turned and breezed out of the room. His guards snapped to attention, then marched after him, hands hovering near their swords.
I allowed myself a full breath before glancing back at the hologram. The sight of all their charred faces haunted me. All frozen in perpetual fear as the fire raged around them.
“It’s my fault,” I whispered.
Guilt sparked new tears. Sniffling, I wiped my hand across my cheeks, then stood. If I’d thought my knees weak before, it was nothing compared to now. I could scarcely hold myself up.
“That was stupid, attacking him like that,” Oren said. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you right here.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “I don’t need you to remind me.”
I straightened my back and met Oren’s gaze. Most refused to look me in the eye, but he seemed unconcerned by any of that. In fact, if I wasn’t mistaken, there seemed to be a hint of sympathy there. I’d never dealt with him, but I’d always imagined him as a younger version of his brother, and Dask wasn’t capable of sympathy.
Oren blinked and something hard slid into place. After a quick glance around to ensure we were alone, he strode toward me. “Listen, Keira, this is a dangerous time for us all, but you particularly. You can’t go around attacking people, especially Dask. Do you understand me?”
I blinked in stunned surprise.
“What?” he demanded.
“You said my name.”
One dark brow arched high on his forehead. “So?”
“No one ever uses my name. It just surprised me, that’s all. I wasn’t sure anyone knew it.”
The tension left his body with a long breath. “Everyone knows your name. It’s hard not to know the Reaper’s name.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s been a hard day for us all. Let’s get you back to your cell.”
I jerked away the moment he reached toward me. “Don’t touch me.”
“Please, don’t fight me on this,” he said with a sigh. “There are two ways we can do this. I can escort you back to your cell, or throw you in it.”
My lip curled. Maybe he was an imitation of his brother after all. “Typical.”
A faint frown marred his face. “What?”
“Forget it.” Damned fae. All the same. If someone wasn’t willing, they forced it on them.
Shaking my head, I started for the door and stepped into the hallway. Somehow, the thought of my cell didn’t frighten me anymore. To be afraid, one had to care. To care, one needed something to care about. And Dask had stolen everything from me.
I didn’t give a shit what happened to me anymore.
4
Many forget that the fae have always coveted our power. Before Earth’s end, they would cross the ley lines and steal
what wasn’t theirs. They would touch those strongest in magic and siphon it away, claiming it as their own. So, when Earth’s history came to a nuclear end, the fae opened up their realm to us, and a great exodus occurred, known as The Crossing.
Except, many humans died during The Crossing, and those who survived seemed altered. No longer could the fae drain us of our magic. Soon came the dark whispers of human sacrifice and forced slavery.
The fae will stop at nothing to protect their land. We are nothing more than cattle awaiting slaughter. It’s time, brothers and sisters.
Time for us to stand up and fight.
—From the journal of Zachary Williams, former Foundry Mayor
The moment my cell door slammed shut behind me, I sank down onto the moldy mattress and stared into the darkness. It hadn’t been an hour since Dask had last dragged me out of here, but in that time, my whole life had changed. Images of the Foundry replayed in my head, over and over, until the tears returned in full force.
Everything inside me ached. Though I wanted nothing more than to break down, to rail and scream, to hurt them as much as they’d hurt me, I couldn’t. It didn’t matter that my body quivered with pent up rage, or that my fists were trembling against my thighs. I couldn’t risk being distracted by my emotions. Later, maybe, when I was free of Dask—and Oren. Right now, the only thing I needed to be thinking about was escaping.
Dask had ordered me down here for the night. Which meant the guards would come for me in the morning. Evading a handful of guards was impossible. I’d need to wait. From this cell, they’d take me to my room and seal me in. But Arik would come. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind. The only way Dask would have burned down the Foundry was on his orders. Arik would come to me, if only to gloat about his actions and to remind me of my punishment.
My gaze dropped to my hand. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the bracelet wrapped around my wrist. If not for this stupid thing, I could access the full extent of my powers and make Arik suffer. But I’d tried so many times in the past to break free of it. Unfortunately, only a spell could do that.