by Tracy Deebs
Page 33
So instead of using my powers to try and blast my way out, I decided to use my head. Maybe, if I could figure out what was going on, I could think my way through this before Sabyn gave up his posturing and decided to skewer me where I hung. Reaching out my hand again, this time I concentrated on feeling the material with my fingers. It was an open weave, the material fashioned into squares with centers that I could stick my fingers through and then watch as they came out on the other side. I poked and prodded at it a little bit, tried to figure out if there were any openings bigger than the one-inch-by-one-inch squares, but I didn’t find any. And that’s when it hit me.
Like so many other fish in the ocean, I’d been caught. In a net.
Before I could panic, Sabyn stepped up to me, a small dart gun in his hand. He pressed it against my tail, and though I tried to get away, there was nowhere for me to go. Then he pulled the trigger and I felt a sharp pain. I looked down and saw a little splash of my blood swirling in the water.
It was the last thing I saw before the world went dark.
Chapter 15
When I woke up, it was dark. I was sitting on the ground, my back resting against a wall, and a few things hit me at once. One, that I wasn’t floating despite being underwater. Two, that there was something heavy around my waist and my wrists anchoring me to the wall. Third, I was back in my human form, legs instead of a tail. And finally, that I was crazy sick—head throbbing, stomach churning, body aching in about a million different places.
Wondering if I’d somehow contracted the flu on top of everything else, I swallowed five or six times, tried to get the nausea under control. I’d puked once underwater, right after I had become a mermaid, and it had been a terribly unpleasant experience and one I definitely didn’t want to repeat … especially considering I was chained to a wall.
When swallowing back the nausea didn’t work, I tried the old deep-breathing trick, but water didn’t work quite the way oxygen did and I ended up choking, which only made my need to hurl a million times worse. Cold, miserable, and feeling exceptionally sorry for myself, I rested my head back against the wall and tried not to cry. It wasn’t easy. After all, I had completely screwed up this time around. The only positive side was that Sabyn hadn’t killed me yet, but I figured that was because he was waiting for Tiamat, who probably wanted to do the honors herself. And since I was pretty sure I hadn’t developed any new powers—like ripping chains out of walls with my bare hands—I was a sitting duck waiting for her.
After I got over the panic, which I admit took a few minutes, I opened my eyes, tried to figure out where I was. I couldn’t see how knowing was going to matter one way or the other, but knowledge is power, right? And since anything was a step up from being chained in a bikini by a madman, I would take what I could get.
It was still dark, the only light coming from my natural phosphorescence. It was weaker than usual though, probably because I was, so the purple glow it cast didn’t go very far. But it was better than nothing, so I turned my head and strained to see.
I followed my arm where it was stretched out along the wall, found an iron clamp dug into the stones. It was wrapped around my left wrist. I turned my head the other way, saw that my right wrist had been given the same treatment and that chains extended from both cuffs and wrapped around my waist before they were threaded through a large metal loop embedded into the wall next to my left side. One thing was for sure. I was well and truly bound.
Next I gave myself leave to explore whatever other parts of the room I could see. There didn’t seem to be much, just the rough stone floor beneath my butt and the wall next to me, which had another set of restraints embedded into it, if I was seeing correctly. And they looked ancient, at least as old as the ones holding me down.
Which made me think that I was in Hailana’s dungeon, a small rabbit warren of rooms that had been carved into the ocean floor centuries before I was even born. I’d been down here only once before, when I had been exploring the castle and had taken a wrong turn. I had freaked out when I saw what looked like medieval torture chambers, complete with equipment, and had all but flown to Hailana to demand what went on down there. She’d reassured me, told me that they were just a part of the castle’s history and that no one had been held down here for well over a century.
Trust Sabyn to decide to change all that.
Now that I knew where I was, panic was creeping in, replacing the sickness and the self-pity with an animalistic drive to stay alive. It was taking every ounce of self-control I had not to strain and thrash against the chains. The only thing keeping me from doing so was the knowledge that it wouldn’t work—and that I’d only end up in worse shape than I was already in. Something I couldn’t afford, because Sabyn obviously wasn’t going to get me medical attention. And if I wanted any chance at all to fight him off, I needed to be in good shape.
Slowly, inch by inch, I forced myself to relax the tension that had invaded every part of my body. Then I focused on my crazily beating heart, trying to bring it under control with a series of deep breaths through my gills. I could finally feel myself calming down, feel the adrenaline of the fight-or-flight syndrome that had hit me the moment I woke up start to slowly drain away. Then I leaned my head back against the wall and tried to think my way out of this hellhole.
I don’t know how long I sat there, running through a variety of scenarios in my head. I came up with a few good ones, but they all started at the same point—with my hands being freed. Until that happened, I might as well just admit that I was screwed. That way, maybe I could get past the horror of being helpless and move on to the next part of the dilemma. Figuring out how I was going to get my wrists unchained.
In the end, I wasn’t the one who did it. Sabyn was. I’d been awake what I thought was a few hours—I couldn’t be sure as there was no clock down here—when he came through the door. The robes were gone and in their place was a pair of electric blue board shorts with a matching rash guard. He appeared almost normal, as long as you didn’t look into his eyes. There was only so much a guy could do to hide the psycho, after all.
Hey, Tempest. How you doing? he asked as he swam toward me.
Are you insane? I demanded, straining against the cuffs for the first time in my effort to get to him.
He tilted his head, pretended to think about the question. Actually, I think I’m doing well in the sanity department right now. I beat you, didn’t I?
Because you’re a raging lunatic who sold himself to the sea witch. And for what? Power? You don’t actually think she’s going to be okay with you having any significant amount of power, do you?
Look around, Tempest. In case you haven’t noticed, I already have a significant amount of power. And I can assure you, no one is going to take that from me.
I snorted. You’re a fool.
He was across the room in a flash, his hand at my throat. You’re chained to a wall and insulting the only person who can set you free. And you think I’m foolish?
I didn’t answer, and because I couldn’t stand to look at his smug face for one more second, I turned my head toward the nearby wall. I might not have many choices left, but I still had that.
Until he decided to take that away too. Look at me, Tempest.
Again I didn’t answer, didn’t turn my head back toward him. It wasn’t like there was so much more he could do to me.