Page 18 of The Abyss (Fae's Captive 7)

“Here!” Chastain rushes up, some sort of golden lever in his hands. “Push this into—there, that socket there—” He points to a spot between the spindle and the cog.

I reach out but can’t grip the lever, my hands too wrecked, the fingers bent and shredded. Parnon has the same problem, so Chastain climbs up next to me and jams it into place. With a little more of his magic, he forms the gold to press against the inner cylinder like a brake.

“I’ve got it. You can stand back.” He spins more gold, transforming a goblet from his sack into a bracket that fastens to the framework around the cog. “It’s secure. Same one I made on the other side, so it’ll keep us level.”

I stagger back and fall onto my ass, the burning sensation in my hands almost unbearable. They’re stripped down to the bone in several places, the rest a bloody pulp.

“Gareth!” Beth rushes over and drops to her knees. “Ancestors! Heal yourself!”

“Parnon, here.” I jerk my chin at him. “Everyone else that needs it, come.” I have an idea, one that’s been churning inside me ever since I healed Beth after the bazaar. When I’m with her, I seem to be more in control of my magic, and I also have more. I thought maybe it was because of my feral form, but the buzz she’s giving me from simply being close tells me I might be wrong. After all, I was able to shield her from my destruction at Granthos’s mansion. Maybe she’s the key to it all—not just my destructive ability, but my single drop of healing as well. Beth plus my feral could be the key to it all.

Half a dozen fighters surround me, their wounds almost as bad as mine. I close my eyes and summon my power. The ache stops, my body healing, and then I change. My feral form erupts. The power is like a streak of lightning coursing through my veins. When I flick my tail and wrap it around Beth, the magic intensifies, soaking my blood in wild, untamed ability. Can I heal them all? I don’t know. But I have to try.

I lower my head and summon that deep burst of energy, the single thread of healing that lives inside me via my mother’s line. I pull that thread until it wraps around me, echoing outward in waves of living green. The power is there and then gone, extinguished from complete use. With a breath, I look up, my feline eyes taking in the slaves and Parnon—all of them staring at their healed hands with wonder, then looking at me.

“You did it!” Beth wraps her arms around my neck as a wave of fatigue washes over me. I sink down and rest my face on my paws. “We’re safe.” She kisses my ear. She seems to like them because they’re so soft. “Rest now, my heart.” She strokes my fur, and though I fight slumber, I can’t keep my eyes open. Drained, I fall asleep in the arms of my beloved.

16

Beth

When we stop moving, I have to blink and look around. Are we really at the bottom? I stare at the neverending rock wall. It’s not changing anymore. We’re really stopped. The hard jolt and the sound of metal clanging onto stone tells me it’s real.

I cradle Gareth’s head in my lap, his kitty snores utterly adorable as he sleeps. But the movement—or lack thereof—wakes him too. In a flash, he’s back to his fae form, his pointy ear forming under my hand as I continue petting him.

“Hi.” I smile down at him.

“Hi.” He looks up at me. “Am I in the Glowing Lands with you, my beloved?”

“Nope.” I glance around. “We’re sort of in the opposite. Short of the Spires, this is definitely the worst place in all of Arin.”

He blinks a few times, as if his memory is coming back. Sitting up, he stares at the bloody cog with the golden brake. “We’re at the bottom?”

“Smells funny down here.” Iridiel follows one of the fighters off the platform and onto the stone floor. “Like rot and magic and evil.”

“Yeah?” Parnon stomps past him. “What does evil smell like?”

“Monogamy.” Iridiel snorts.

“That … makes no sense.” I roll my eyes.

“Does to me.” Iridiel walks into the gloom, the only light some sort of glowing lichen along the dark gray walls.

“There are slavers’ quarters down here, too.” Parnon’s voice bounces back and forth in the stone wilderness. “Best take advantage of them before the real journey begins.”

“I feel like this has definitely been ‘real.’” I steal a glance at the bloody cog as Gareth pulls me to my feet. I stretch, my joints aching from hours of tension. I couldn’t rest, not when danger likely still lurked above us and definitely lurked below us. Besides, it was time for me to guard Gareth for a change. He seemed so peaceful, his soft fur and velvety paws warm as I stroked him and whispered to him.

“Thank you.” One of the fighters gives Gareth a low bow.

“It was nothing.”

The others who Gareth healed bow as well, then more join until all the former slaves are bent in gratitude.

Gareth clears his throat. “That, ah, that’s not necessary.”

I get up on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear. “Take a compliment, why don’t you?”

For the first time I can remember, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“No need.” He gives a stiff bow in return, then takes my elbow and leads me onto the solid stone floor.

Despite the fact that I’m leagues underground and surrounded by monsters, it’s rather nice to have solid ground beneath my feet.

“Come, let’s see about those slavers’ quarters.” He pulls me with him.

“Shouldn’t we help unload the—”

“We’ve got it. Get some rest before we begin.” Chastain turns and starts directing everyone on where to take the unicorns and how to handle the wagon.

Gareth doesn’t need permission. He’s practically dragging me toward some dwellings hewn into the rock. There is more lichen here, the ceilings aglow with life as we pass into one of the carved areas. Inside, there are several rooms with fluffy beds and bathing chambers. Water constantly pours into the basins from Spires-knows-where and creates a soothing sound that flows throughout the rather posh living suites. The slavers spare no expense on themselves, even this deep underground.

I eye the biggest basin and lean over to test the water. It’s surprisingly warm on my fingers. “Wow.”

Parnon stomps through, peering at the accommodations. “I like the slave quarters better.” He keeps walking, ignoring the plush beds. “I’m going to sleep. Might as well get some shut eye. We’ve reached the point of no return.”

“Wait.” I walk after him as Gareth checks the dressing area, always looking for enemies. “Did you say ‘point of no return’?”

Parnon cocks his head to the side. “Yes.”

“No going back?” I ask.

His head cocks even farther. “The machine is broken. Everyone we left behind is likely toes up. There is no going back.”

“And after the Abyss, we’re at the mines, right?”

He stomps away, clearly tired of answering my questions.

I dog his steps. “The mines are just south of the Abyss, right? No avoiding them?”

He throws up his hands and speeds his pace. “Yes, changeling. Yes. We can’t go back, only forward, and forward is to the mines.”

“Whee!” I twirl with my hands in the air, then rush back into the slavers’ quarters as Parnon grumbles away. With wild movements, I pull my clothes off and jump into the bathing basin. There’s blumerin soap, so I grab that and go to town washing my body. When Gareth emerges from the dressing room, he stops and goes slack-jawed.

“Beth.” The feral flashes in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Bathing.” I dunk my head under the water to rinse the soap.

When I surface Gareth is standing right next to me, his hands gripping the edges of the basin so tightly his knuckles go white. “You’re naked.” His eyes go to my breasts, then lower into the soapy water.

“I know.” I finish rinsing, then stand, water sluicing off me. “There’s no going back.”

He stands, suspicion crinkling next to his eyes. “What?”

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