From The Shadows : Book 2 in the Mortisalian Saga

by L. J. Stock

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled. “You know the drill. You know what’s expected and you broke protocol. To threaten your own life like that—”

  “If you hadn't noticed, we were both in a bit of a jam out there, you ungrateful bastard. You're welcome by the way!” I snapped, wrapping my arms around myself as the cold finally seemed to hit me. The dankness of the dungeon cell was already starting to feel as though it was closing in around me as the adrenaline bled out of my system, leaving a shaking, pain riddled mess in its wake.

  “Cass, I'm sorry. It's just…” Rasmus trailed off and ran his hands over his short hair in frustration. He paced a few more times before turning back to me. “You could have been hurt. Then you go and take your life into your own hands for me of all people. What were you thinking?”

  “I wasn't, Ras. All I could see was my friend and protector about to be decapitated in front of me and I freaked the hell out. And I swear to God, if you tell me some shit about not being able to be my guard because of this I will make you regret it.”

  He laughed and closed the distance between us, wrapping me in a loose hug. I let my head rest on his chest and finally took a deep breath, glad of the comfort, even if I was beginning to feel my war wounds.

  “Well, it kind of worked out. At least I can watch over your feisty ass in here.”

  “What the hell are we going to do?”

  “Not much we can do except fight to stay alive. What happened to Melody?”

  I bit my lip and stepped out of his embrace, sinking to the floor. Leaning against the cool damp wall, I stayed silent. I knew he wasn't going to be happy about me making Melody abandon her post. We had protocol for a reason. I just hoped that she'd managed to get away. At least the palace would know that we'd been ambushed. At least Damon would know I was planning to fight to stay alive, that I loved him and would find my way back to him eventually.

  “I sent her home on Dunamis,” I finally said, picking up a piece of straw and running it through my fingers while I examined a particularly bad wound on my arm. “They weren't after her. She was the only one who could have made it out. She was the only one who would have been able to relay the information.”

  “Did she see Aric die?”

  I closed my eyes and pulled my legs up against my chest. I hadn't let myself dwell over who was gone. Aric would have fought just as hard as the rest of them to protect me, but Rasmus and I were the only survivors. Of course Aric hadn’t made it. He was yet another casualty of this war that had already taken too much from us all.

  “Of course Aric's dead. I didn’t let myself…” I trailed off and studied my bloodstained hands. “In my head he left with Melody, to protect her, but he would never have left me, would he?”

  Rasmus sighed and slid down the wall so he was sitting next to me, obviously understanding just how hard the reality of it all had hit me now that the fighting was over.

  “Why didn't I listen?” I whispered, balling my hands and shaking my head. “Damon said he felt uncomfortable, that he had a feeling something bad would happen, but I just had to come. I'm such a hardheaded idiot. I never should have come here. I should have stayed locked up in the palace like everyone wanted. They told me to let the suasors deal with it. All of these deaths are my fault, Ras. They’re on my head, and now you're in danger, too.”

  “You couldn't stay locked up forever, and you can't blame yourself for this mess. If it hadn’t happened today, it would be another day in another place. I know it all seems hopeless right now, but I need you to stay optimistic.”

  Staying optimistic was easier said than done when the walls were already closing in on me. We were in a small stone-lined hole with nothing to give away our location. We’d been brought here by fire, so we could be anywhere for all I knew. I just hoped that I could relax enough to look at the situation as it was and try my best to fix it and some of my injuries while I was at it. I didn't know why Grigori or Thánatos wanted to keep me alive, why my life seemed to be important to them, but maybe if I found out enough I could warn the king, my father. Maybe I could give Mortisalians some hope and a way to win this war. I wasn’t giving up yet. Even if my death was imminent, I would be damn sure it wouldn’t be for nothing.

  I offered Rasmus a nod of agreement and sucked in a deep, cleansing breath, ignoring the damp musk of the air as I laid my head on his shoulder and prayed with any kind of conviction for the first time in my life.

  Chapter Five

  Being stuck in a cold, drab hole wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and it was never something I was interested in to begin with. Both Rasmus and I were waiting for the inevitable torture to begin, but nothing ever happened. It wasn't that I wanted to be tortured. Who did? But the endless waiting made me constantly feel as though I were losing my mind. From our best assessment, we'd been locked in here for a week. Without being able to see the sky or the position of the sun, it made it feel as though we were stuck in an endless night.

  If it hadn't been for Rasmus, I suspected I really would have lost my mind after a few days of the infuriating darkness. He was my only company with the exception of a masked guard who visited only twice a day to feed us dry bread and some dry cheese to go with it, but other than that there was nothing. We were only allowed a drink once a day when the water was forced down our throats so we couldn’t use it to translocate. It was what I imagined waterboarding would feel like and the sporadic quenching of our thirst left us weak and dehydrated for the rest of the time. We didn’t have a lot of choice.

  Rasmus had come up with a scheme for our escape after what we'd figured out was the first day, but that, too, proved useless. As disgusting as it was to try to use our bodily fluids to translocate, the veneficus had thwarted us by keeping a spell over our cell making any water we created disappear immediately. We were out of options and out of hope, and our only choice was to sit and wait through endless days and nights.

  I found myself undeniably restless and, as small as the cell was, ended up pacing in small circles around the space. The minimal train of my riding dress trailed behind me, gently swishing over the straw that was strewn across the floor. Melody’s dress design was quite possibly the only reason I'd been able to fight as well as I had, and I was grateful for it now.

  The air was stagnant and musky but I pulled it in with long draws as I moved. Rasmus and I had our own ways of coping and I suspected being in here together was making things a little easier for both of us. While I paced, he did sit-ups or push-ups to keep in shape and active so we were ready for anything. He was consistently on red alert, waiting for something to happen. That made two of us. But it was getting hard to keep up that level of activity when we were growing weaker by the day despite our efforts to keep up our strength.

  The sensory deprivation was possibly the hardest thing for me to deal with. There was no natural light, no fresh air, and all of the sound reverberated from the stone walls, making it seem as though we were stuck in an echo chamber. We hadn't dared to talk about anything significant because we were unsure of who was listening. The curved walls made it impossible to know if there was anyone close by. It was like living in an oubliette, which, essentially, we were.

  The two of us took turns sleeping. We didn't want to let our guard down around the latros because we weren't sure what they had planned. It wasn’t like they didn’t have the means to come in anyway, but with one of us alert we could warn the other of what was coming, and for now, that helped. Our vigilance seemed unnecessary a lot of the time. There was only the routine appearances twice a day when they brought food, but we refused to give them that inch. None of the silent treatment the enemy was giving us made sense, and as much as I wanted to theorize with Rasmus over the whys of our current situation, I kept myself quiet. There was no guarantee we were alone.

  When I was able to exhaust myself enough to sleep, my dreams were filled with Damon and my subconscious creation of his reaction to what had happened. The moment I opened my eyes, I was
aware he wasn't real, but I still woke up with tear-dampened eyes from watching his emotional turmoil over and over again in my mind. Missing Damon was made worse by the goodbye we'd shared in my bathroom before I'd left. I was certain my family believed we were dead, and I was terrified that they'd let their guard down thinking my death would end this wave of attacks until another woman who could fit the prophecy could finish what I’d started, though I wasn’t sure whether that was even possible. All I knew was the last thing I needed was for Thánatos and his men to succeed and get to the king. It was the only reason I could think of for them keeping me alive. Without me, the regency would fall and Thánatos could finally sit on the throne.

  “You're shivering again. Are you cold?” Rasmus asked weakly, wrapping his arms around me in a brotherly embrace to keep me warm. This battle was the two of us against the world, and continuing to fight was the only way we'd been able to support one another emotionally. Our bond had grown stronger during our time in the hole; there was no denying that, and Rasmus would always be more to me than I could ever express. He’d not only saved my physical being out on the battle front, but he was continuing to keep my morale up and my mental state somewhat positive. He was my family, a vital part of my life that I wasn’t willing to ever let go of.

  “No, just thinking,” I mumbled, leaning in to him.

  “Thirst or Damon this time?” he asked, his voice thick with his own thirst.

  “A bit of both,” I admitted with a pathetically weak smile. My mouth was so dry that I couldn't even form saliva, and Damon was constantly on my mind. This was the longest our captors had gone without giving us water.

  “He won't give up on you, Cass. You have to believe that. He loves you.”

  I shrugged and pulled my legs up to my chest as my eyes wandered over the same scene they had been taking in for the past week. There was no help and no solace within the walls, just as it had been hours earlier. They'd made damn sure there were no means of escape or communication with the outside.

  “Don't you dare give up on me,” he croaked. “I'll kick your ass from here to that wall over there.”

  “You can try,” I replied dryly, wishing I had the energy to squabble with him. Our sibling-like relationship hadn't been dampened by our predicament. It was a little piece of normal in this unfamiliar situation.

  “You were kinda badass with that sword, but I didn’t know you’d started dagger training.”

  I swallowed nothing with my dry throat. I was dizzy but determined to stay awake for this conversation. This was the first time we’d spoken about the battle in Dullhurt since we'd been here. We'd been avoiding the topic because we were unsure whether there were unwanted ears listening in, and because of my unspoken heartache at losing so many of the people I was familiar with. We did need to talk about what happened, however, and I promised myself I would be strong enough.

  “I haven't,” I whispered, a small smile on my lips. “I just couldn't let you die.”

  “You're telling me that you...”

  “Threw a dagger with no training? Yes, absolutely,” I mused quietly.

  He raised his eyebrows at me, but all I could offer him in response was a shrug. He could ask me as much as he wanted how I was able to hit my mark without any real aim, but I would never have an answer for him. My actions were instinctual. I needed to protect my friend and it was my last hope.

  “Well, thanks. I'm glad you at least have good aim.”

  “So am I. Though I really didn't see where it went. I made a break for it.”

  “I know. I saw you eat dirt.”

  For some reason, that reference only made my thirst worse than it already was. I rubbed my dry tongue along the equally dry roof of my mouth, willing some moisture to flood my mouth.

  “Do you think they realize we won't last much longer without water?” I asked, the dehydration now making my body ache.

  “I'm sure they do, but they know that water is your element. What choice do they have?” he asked, struggling to sit up straight against the wall. I hated seeing him this lethargic. It wasn't like him.

  “A straw?” I laughed once without humor.

  “So you can spit it into your hand and translocate?” he asked, bumping a brow and tipping his head in my direction. The waterboarding method at least kept us hydrated, but it didn’t really do much for our mouths, it bypassed them completely.

  I sighed. “At this point I don't think I could spare enough. I'm so thirsty.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  I sat back against the wall and tilted my head up, looking at the stone that continued above our heads in the dim light. For a second I thought I was seeing things in the curve of the natural formation, but as the flames on the other side of the bars started to flicker, the glistening became even more obvious to my tired eyes.

  “Ras,” I whispered and clambered to my feet clumsily, tripping over the dress as I did. I was grateful for the riding pants Mel had included beneath. “Ras, look.”

  “What?”

  “Just come here a second,” I nagged, leaning down to run my fingers along his growing hair. It was longer than I'd ever seen it, and the gesture was enough to get his attention. He ducked out of my reach for a second before making the effort to move.

  He stood up with the same weakness I had, and leaned against the wall looking exhausted. There was still an immense strength in his eyes, though, and I knew that as long as he had it, he hadn't given up. But it was hard seeing the fatigue in his face.

  “Look.” I leaned my body against the wall and stretched my hand to the small curve in the stone. I could see how wet it was without having to touch it.

  “Is that?”

  “Yes, water,” I hissed under my breath, my fingers barely reaching the tiny area. The cool liquid felt delightful against my skin. It was newly formed, and undoubtedly wouldn’t last long, but the cool liquid was enough to bring a little life into me, especially when I touched my damp finger to my lips.

  “Can you use it to translocate?” Rasmus rasped beside me, not daring to touch the damp spot.

  “No, there's not enough, but I can get a message out if Damon or Alexa are listening for me. I can let them know we're still alive.”

  We looked at one another with an inkling of hope. There was no way we could tell whoever responded where we were or even what part of the kingdom we were in. If we were in our kingdom at all. All we knew were the four tentative walls and bars of our cells. It might not help us, but knowing we were still breathing would give them some hope.

  “Do it,” he said, his voice breaking. His hand was on my back, steadying me as I pushed up on my toes to get my fingers to the very center of the small drips of water.

  The moment I touched the damp stone, I thought of Damon with desperation, praying that the mental call would be enough to get through to him. I couldn't see him but I could hear the quiet murmur of his voice as I concentrated. It was like listening to him from down a long tunnel.

  “Damon?” I called, as quietly as I could. “Can you hear me?”

  The murmur went quiet. The tentative connection was too muffled to hear what was going on where he was so I could only assume he'd heard me.

  “Damon?”

  “Cass? Oh fuck, you're alive. Where are you? We'll come get you. If they've touched you I will kill them all.”

  I let my forehead rest against my arms and bit back the tears that threatened on hearing his voice. I knew we didn’t have long to talk. Our luck just wouldn’t hold that long.

  “I don't know where we are. Ras is here with me. We were moved here by fire. It was that or a spell—I couldn't tell. We're in a cell underground.” I felt choked up hearing his voice and it was hard trying to put my thoughts together. I didn't know how much time we had to talk, and I wasn't even sure what to say other than we were alive and we would fight to stay that way.

  “Are you alright? I'm so glad to hear your voice. When I couldn't reach you through our bond I thought the w
orst. They must be blocking you in. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I'm fine, but—” I didn't get to finish the sentence. The water evaporated under my touch and the torches flared beyond the cell bars. Rasmus moved with speed and agility I couldn’t fathom him having being as thirsty as he was. He pushed me behind him as he backed us into a corner. Even now I was his first priority.

  Being cut off from Damon so quickly left an ache in my chest. He'd sounded so worried that I was struggling to bring my mind back into the present and what was going on in the cave. I knew being cut off like that wasn't going to help his panic, but at least he knew I was safe with Rasmus. That had to count for something.

  Rasmus pressed me further into the corner as footsteps rang out and echoed off the stone tomb. The wall felt cool on my back, but I didn't make a sound. Rasmus knew what he was doing and I trusted him enough to take point. There was obviously someone approaching the cell and we knew it wasn't the guard with the food. Not enough time had passed for that.

  The red uniform was hard to miss even in the low light of the cell, as they walked into sight with a purpose, stopping just beyond the bars so we both could see him—and I could tell it was definitely a male now that he was stood before us, his broad shoulders rolling back so he was more imposing. The white mask he wore was even more sinister when his back was to the only light we had and it was cast into the shadows making him look like an evil porcelain doll.

  “I seem to continually underestimate you,” Grigori said in the same even tone he’d used to address us in Dullhurt. There was no inflection in his voice, but if I had to put an emotion to it, I would have said he was amused.

  “Fuck you,” I offered in reproach, my palms flat against Rasmus’ back as I glared at Grigori from around him. Fatigue and irritability made me antagonistic.

  “Your tenacity intrigues me, Princess.”

  I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was intrigue him. Intrigue created curiosity, and I didn’t want to become a specimen in a petri dish for him. It was already too easy for him to observe me. I was being treated like a caged animal in a zoo.