Page 119 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

“Great,” Tharan said unenthusiastically.

We tramped through the tunnels, trying our best to hold our breath. The light of a single torch was our only guide.

The sound of rushing water filled the chamber. A marvel of modern invention, the Highlands diverted a river to run underneath the city, providing fresh water for the citizens.

Submerging his legs into the icy water, Tharan groaned with relief.

“Don’t get too wet. We need to look like we have been working,” I said, scrubbing the shit off my feet and ankles as best I could.

“Oh, c’mon. Have some fun.” He splashed me playfully.

I slapped water back at him. “We can laugh later. This is serious.”

“Fine.” He pouted.

I cracked my neck, trying to adjust the invisible tension constantly pressing in on me at all times.

Only a few sleepy-eyed workers lingered in the servants’ passageway, finishing the last-minute tasks. Concentrating on their work, they paid us no mind.

Dirt stuck to our feet as we padded through the dimly lit hallways. During the day, this would be a booming thoroughfare of servants, bustling about vendors selling their goods and services—a city beneath a city. Now, only the sound of our footsteps filled the plaster-lined halls.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Tharan said, staring into a tailor’s window, where a little old man with thick spectacles worked on mending a dress for a highborn lady.“Sylphs don’t have slaves.”

That is what they were. Sure, they could hide behind the title ofservant, but in reality, the servants—the backbone of the Highlands—were slaves, born and bred.

“Sylphswereslaves,” Tharan said as I dragged him away.

Tharan might have been a slave. He fought in the sylph andelven wars. I swallowed the lump of anxiety bulging in my throat. “Were you a…”

He held up his hand. “No. My father did not attend the celebration after Crom Cruach was defeated. Therefore, his kingdom remained untouched by the elves.” He bit his lip, kicking a rock lazily.

Placing a hand on his arm, I wanted to say something, but what could you say to someone whose people had been enslaved for millennia?

“I wanted to free them, you know. Before I left. I wanted to free all the servants, but there were so many, and only one of me.”Silver ringed my eyes.

Tharan rubbed my hand. “You were in a terrible place. You couldn’t have helped them.”

Lowering my eyes, I desperately searched for the right words but found none.

We walked silently along the deserted underground passage until we came to a winding stone staircase.

“This will take us to the royal suites,” I said, staring up at the steep steps leading high into the palace.

My thighs burned as we climbed higher and higher into the tower.

“We should murder Gideon and Erissa for making us climb these,” Tharan said, gasping for air.

“Just a little further.” I could see the golden handle leading into the royal wing. “I’m going to connect our minds, so we don’t have to speak to one another.”

Reaching out, I linked our minds. A pain tickled the back of my throat at the memory of the last time I invaded his psyche.

Testing.

‘I’m here.’

The door silently opened into a foyer housing a massive marble statue of Ammena holding her magical apple.

The hallway split into three directions—one to the north, one to the east, and one to the west. Ornate tapestry depicting the Highlands’ many victories hung on the walls, while beautiful red and gold carpets covered the black-and-white tiled floors.

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