Page 58 of The Stygian Crown

Kara daydreamed about rescue. She thought she heard familiar voices in the distance. Logan’s low growl, Jon’s laugh. She would count out seconds into hours, telling herself that when she opened her eyes, salvation would be there.

So when the light at the end of the tunnel appeared again, Kara thought she was imagining it. Her heart sank when Victus’s white blond head bowed in front of the cell door to unlock it. His nose was a mash of purple and green, though the bone had been set straight once more. Something unnerved her about the cut of his jaw, the way his muscles sat on his frame as he moved. They were all slightly familiar.

Victus stepped into the cell and set a bucket on the floor. “This all could have been avoided, you know. I should have killed Dondar when he ruined our ambush in Mudbottom.”

One-Eye. Kara had already fulfilled his wish. Victus was wearing black today—was it because he expected to get blood on him?

“I’m going to let you down from the cuffs. If you fight, we will repeat the last three days again. I know how close to the brink I can push the Namirahn body, and you have only just glimpsed the edge. Do you understand?”

Kara nodded weakly. She was desperate for relief, even at Victus’s hands.

He stepped forward and unlocked the ankle cuffs, and Kara groaned as the choking metal snapped free. Her skin blazed at the release of pressure from her inflamed flesh. Then her first wrist cuff creaked open, and her arm fell to her side with a dull thud. When the second cuff opened, Kara slumped forward, arms numb and body too exhausted to keep herself upright. Victus caught her against him, wrapping his arms around her.

In the back of her mind, Kara knew she should feel for weapons on Victus’s person, should take advantage of this chance, but her body refused to follow her commands. Victus took on more of her weight as she slumped forward, unable to support herself. He lowered them to the ground together, folding her into his lap and resting her head in the crook of his neck.

Kara hated this mockery of compassion, but she was utterly spent. Victus held a waterskin to her lips and supported her head while she drank, her neck too tired to even hold her head up. She drank greedily, and he pulled the water away.

“Slowly, or you’ll puke. Your stomach is weak.”

Victus followed the water with a bowl of plain rice and shredded chicken that he spoonfed her. Then he removed a tin of white paste from his pocket and rubbed it into her ragged wrists and ankles. The contact burned like fire, and she grit her teeth against the pain, but she didn’t resist. She was too weak to fight.

“It will not ease the pain or make you heal faster, but it will prevent infection.”

Kara was beginning to see how Victus’s captives might choose to side with him over lingering in his dungeons. He was a master manipulator. Is this what had happened to Wesley? Was he here? Hope swelled in her at the thought, but it was a fool’s hope—she couldn’t count on Wesley’s aid. He’d proved he couldn’t be trusted.

When she finished eating, Victus left the cell without chaining her back up. Kara embraced the moldering floor like it was a fine feather bed.

After sleeping deeplyfor the first time since she’d been captured and regaining a little of her strength, Kara explored her cell as best she could in the dark. She traced her fingertips along the wall, searching for loose stones or etchings from prisoners past. She discovered what felt like a cranking apparatus attached to a wheel, but when she tried to turn it, it caught and refused to budge.

Kara moved to the cell door and analyzed the lock. She didn’t have anything to pick it with, but she could try a blood rune. Escaping the Sanguine stronghold alone while unarmed would be virtually impossible, but maybe she could find Logan. Assuming this was the hidden prison the Stygians and Saphia had been searching for—where Victus kept the women he’d taken—it didn’t bode well for their chances of rescue. Even Rahj’s spies had been unable to locate it. She was alone on her cell block, so if her suspicions were correct, there’d be other halls just like this one full of captives.

Kara scraped her finger against a sharp edge of the stone wall until blood welled, then traced an unlocking rune onto the cell door. Nothing happened. No click or pop of release, no dull glow of the rune. Kara tested the door, unsurprised when it didn’t budge. The whole cell was probably warded against magic use, if not the entire prison. She sighed and rubbed away the rune with the precious little spit she had.

Victus returned the next day.His usually mannered hair was tousled, and a long cut scabbed over with blood marred his cheek. Someone had gotten to him.

The cell clinked open, and Kara’s eyes fell to his hands. He held two large silver hooks. They reminded her of meat hooks, the kind butchers hung animal carcasses with when bleeding them dry.

Kara scrambled backwards as he stepped close, putting her back flush with the wall. She’d been a fool to think him capable of compassion after yesterday. She was still so weak—too weak to fight him and hope to win.

“You’re looking better today. I hope you’re prepared to answer my questions.” He slid the hooks against each other in a metallic shuffle.

Kara swallowed.

“Now, how many people are defending Raven’s Rest? I’ve already sent my spies there; I have my suspicions. All you have to do is confirm it.”

“I don’t know anything of value, I swear. They kicked me out after I helped Wesley in Travincal.”

“Ah, your brother. Or the sham of one, anyway. He has proven most loyal. I could arrange for him to visit you if you tell me what I want. Would you like that?”

Kara didn’t speak.

“Shall we try another question? Who within the clan has magical abilities? How many?”

“You’re wasting your breath and your time.”

Victus tsked, crouching in front of her and running a hand down her face. “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know. If you cooperated, I’d treat you like the princess you are. Take you above ground, give you a room and a bed and food from my table. Choosing survival isn’t weak. Give mesomething.”

Kara had been wracking her brain for information she might reveal that wouldn’t hurt anyone, but everything revealed a weakness, made someone vulnerable. She could lie, but he might be testing her by confirming things his spies had already reported. She wouldn’t be surprised if there were Stygians already in his pocket.

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