Page 55 of Whispers of the Elderoak

“Two days,” he said.

Two days? The healers must have given her a tonic. That explained why she felt so groggy. Remy gestured to a plate on the ground before her holding a piece of stale bread and a cup of water, she immediately consumed both, gulping earnestly to quench her unending thirst. The bucket had also been left and since she had no remaining dignity, she used it and lay back down on the dirt.

“Ava?” Remy said.

Whispering back with the last of her energy, she replied, “Idon’t want to talk right now, Remy.” Then allowed herself to be swallowed by sleep.

Her new routineof torture went on for weeks. Burns, cuts with daggers, broken fingers and toes. A couple of times they even waterboarded her, like something out of a movie. It was worse than she ever could have imagined.

Sometimes she would last an hour or more, attempting to fight through the pain, swallowing her screams until they burst from her lips with no remorse, using Remy to ground her. Other times she would pass out and succumb to the torture within minutes.

But her magic never came. No changes happened that she could see or feel. This so-called great tribulation a mere myth to her.

Today’s particularly gruesome torture session had nearly incapacitated her and had her begging for death. The Scourge burned her body several times, including the bottoms of her feet, and sliced her belly with jagged knives. Then she was strung between two poles and whipped, Deidamia taking over at one point, releasing her frustration that nothing seemed to be working to induce even a flicker of power.

This time Ava didn’t pass out due to a tonic Deidamia forced her to consume, keeping her conscious for the whole session in hopes this would be the difference. That her magic would finally appear.

Ava didn’t even have Remy to ground her this time, as they had brought her to a separate tent. Away from her only lifeline in this world.

But the torture hadn’t worked and in anger the group left, leaving Ava hanging, blood dripping down her ravaged back. It was hopeless. Her plan of escape a figment of thepast. She would die here. Die in this filthy tent surrounded by daemons and evil. There was no possible way she could get free.

Her head hung low as unbearable pain coursed down her back and through the rest of her body. She tried to keep her breathing even. Tried to fight through the pain, but she was overcome and woozy; her head fuzzy as she barely remained conscious. So, she let herself hang there, naked from the waist up, exposed to the world. And she didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care about what they did to her. She only hoped they would hurry and kill her.

She gave up.

A voice sounded. Calling her name softly.

I’m hallucinating, she thought with closed eyes, ignoring the words.

But there it was again.

“Ava,” it repeated, lilting and feminine and so… familiar. “Ava, dear. Little bird.”

Lifting her head, Ava opened her eyes. Before her was a woman wearing a white gown and casting a heavenly glow.

“Mom?” Ava whimpered.

Her mother smiled, face aglow with a golden light. “Yes, little bird. It’s me.”

Ava’s heart broke as she looked closer at the apparition. Her golden hair flowed down her back as she regarded Ava with piercing green eyes. Her mother looked the same as she remembered her, except powerful magic radiated from her and her ears were pointed. Fae.

Her lip quivered and her vision blurred as she couldn’t keep the tears at bay. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry. We wanted to wait until you were old enough. When your grandfather and I left Eorhan, our only goal was to keep you safe. We didn’t know Deidamia and Andras had followed. Not until it was too late.”

Ava let the tears fall. Streaks of grief washing away the dirt on her cheeks.

“I can’t do this,” Ava whispered, the sound barely audible.

“You must,” her mother responded.

Ava shook in her chains. “Why? I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be here. I just want to go home.” She broke on the last word, and she let out a loud sob.

Her mother spoke with authority, voice smooth and powerful. “Thisisyour home, Ava. We don’t always get to choose our path. Sometimes it’s chosen for us. Eorhan needs your help.”

“What if I don’t want to help?” Ava asked. “What if I refuse?”

“Then you doom this whole realm. Everyone here will die or become slaves to the daemon queen. They will never stop hunting you, Ava.”

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