Page 42 of These Divided Shores
Edda seized his upper arm. “You all right?”
Vex shook her off. Damn, this spell was a long one. Both of his legs shook so hard his knees cracked into the bars.
Stop it, stop it, stop it. He needed to run through this prison, find Ben and Cansu and any other prisoners before Argridian reinforcements showed up. He didn’t have time to be weak.
He didn’t have time to think about what Elazar did when he got his hands on kids. How a thirteen-year-old boy deserved to be strapped to a chair and force-fed magicuntil his body couldn’t handle any more. How did Tuncian spices fit into any of this? Elazar loved to experiment with magic. Maybe—maybe—
The dimness shifted and blurred, Vex’s heart leaping hard against his ribs. Argrid was doing it again. Purifying Grace Loray. Burning those who resisted too much.
“Vex,” Edda tried. “What’s wrong? You need to leave?”
“No.”Damn it.“No, I’m fine.”
The prisoners were gone by the time the shaking stopped. Vex lowered his weight onto his legs, but a twinge of agony shot up his calves.
“Bell? You there? Where are you now?”
Shit. “Hang on, Nate.”
Vex took a step, winced. Edda’s grip on his arm pinched tighter. He bit down on his tongue and walked one step, another—then he was running, Edda jogging alongside him.
Vex’s mouth curved in a permanent grimace. “Another level down, Nate.” He took a corner and found the rest of his group waiting by a dead end. “Right turn, hall’s blocked.”
A rumble, and stones swallowed the wall again, revealing another hall with more cells. Noise flared, the warning bell keeping time alongside prisoners here. They were singing.
Vex recognized it. A Church hymn, one about Grace Aracely, the Grace of penance.
The raiders started picking the locks as Vex leaned onthe stones, sweat pouring down his face. Was lung collapse a symptom of Shaking Sickness? He couldn’t take a full breath.
Edda shot out her hand to him. “Vex, give me the Budwig. Go to the surface.”
He glared at her. He couldn’t argue without Nate hearing.
“Bell! You find Pierce? What’s going on?”
Vex eyed the prisoners. More families, old, young—not only Tuncian now, though.
Vex shouted at the raiders, “Keep going! There’s more, right? Nate?”
“Should be one more level with two—”
“Go!” Vex screamed.
Prisoners rushed past, more raiders peeling off to escort them to the surface. The hymn softened, some people choosing to stop while others carried the tune.
Vex kept shouting, at Edda, at his body. He had not survived this far to fall apart in a prison he hadn’t even been arrested and thrown into.
He swung down a hall and jerked back, shock startling him. Two figures stood at the end, far enough away for the raiders behind Vex to cry in alarm and raise their pistols.
“Wait!” Vex said.
One person dove in front of another.
Ben.
He was a mess, bloody and dirty, but he was standing, and he was alive.
Relief tugged at the tension keeping Vex upright.
