Page 118 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
Everinne’s brow arched, her mouth tugged to one side in a smart little smirk, and her eyes glittered with mischief.Thatlook. Atlas had seen that look a thousand times before. Wild and spirited, it was the same one she wore whenever she indulged in reckless decisions, when all warning of caution and care were lost to her.
“There’s one place she can go.” Everinne held up her finger like she was about to spill a coveted secret. “But we’ll need Veros’s help.”
The Astralplane.
Veros was the only one who could access the magical plane between worlds, he was the only one who could walk between space and time. It was guarded by wards that had been in place since the fall of the Ancient Ones, its archaic charms some of the most complex. And Veros alone could move through them.
Atlas captured Everinne’s chin. “I have a mind to leave you there as well until all of this is over.”
She rolled her sparkling eyes. “As if I would listen to you.”
Atlas couldn’t help it, he kissed her soundly on the mouth once more.
Her fingers fisted into his shirt, and she reluctantly pulled away. “So, you’ll help me get her out?”
“Of course.” His gaze slid to the glass doors leading out to the verandah where the snow continued to fall. “We’ll miss the lighting of the bonfire.”
They both knew what it might mean if they failed to make an appearance at the Zemni Boheme.
“It’s worth the risk.” Everinne shrugged then, but there was tension in her movements, and her back pulled taut against his palm. “Perhaps your father will forgive us if he thinks you were putting your talents to good use.”
Atlas bent down and nipped her ear. “I have other talents.”
“Oh, really?” She drew the last syllable out so it thrummed in her throat and he pressed his mouth to her pulse, pleased when it jumped against his touch.
“Yes. Perhaps I’ll show you sometime.” He grabbed her hand and kissed each one of her knuckles. “Let’s go find Veros. Then we can save your friend.”
Everinne rose on her toes and Atlas sealed his promise with a kiss.
“Stealing into the dungeon? This is a fucking terrible idea.” Veros roughed a hand over his face and shot Atlas with a pointed look. “I can’t believe she talked you into this.”
“Veros,” Everinne sighed, exasperation dripping from her tone as they walked down the slick stone pathway that led to the dungeon, each step taking them deeper underground.
Glowing black flames of faerie fire sputtered from warped sconces that looked like they would fall off the walls at any moment. The air was frigid, an unnatural kind of chill that settled deep into one’s bones, and Everinne sidled closer to Atlas’s side, grasping his hand in her own.
He linked their fingers together and squeezed in silent reassurance.
Veros craned his neck, glancing back at them, suspicion hiding in the depths of his eyes that were so much like his sister’s. “What exactly am I needed for again?”
Atlas smacked him on the back with his free hand, offering a carefree smile. “It’s a secret.”
Veros frowned, the time lord hated secrets and loathed surprises even more.
He was going to be pissed when he discovered why they were bringing him along on their dungeon escapade.
“Besides,” Atlas added as an afterthought, “you didn’t have to agree.”
“That’s right.” A smug kind of satisfaction pulled at the corners of Everinne’s mouth. “You could have told me no.”
Now it was Veros’s turn to roll his eyes. His scowl deepened as he muttered, “As if I would.”
But then he drew up short and Everinne’s smile faded.
The mouth of the dungeon opened before them. Damp and dimly lit, the narrow passage they stood within emptied into a cramped hall with darkened cells on all sides. Bronze bars were jammed between the floor and ceiling, locking the inhabitants into a cage filled with beds made from straw, rough-hewn blankets, and tin plates with meager servings of days-old food.
Other than a few groans of agony and the incoherent mutterings coming from the shadows, the dungeon was eerily silent.
Veros took a cautious step forward. “Why are there no guards down here?”
