Page 93 of Storm to Victory
Guards had come for Prince Edmund first thing that morning, dragging him from his cell and out of his dungeon before either of them had even been served their paltry breakfast of hard bread.
The screams hadn’t started until early afternoon.
The iron door at the top of the stairs clanged open. Guards marched through, dragging a limp and bloody body between them.
Pip pressed her hands over her mouth to stifle her gasp as she huddled on her cot.
The guards didn’t so much as glance at her as they opened Prince Edmund’s cell and dumped him inside. They didn’t even bother with the shackles this time, as if they knew the spy prince was too incapacitated to need the secondary level of security.
No sooner had the upper door closed than Pip shoved her power through the wire, locking the door behind the guards sothat they couldn’t get back in. Then she pushed open the door to her cell, keeping her injured arm tucked close to her body, and ran across the corridor. “Prince Edmund?”
He didn’t stir. Not when she opened the door to his cell. Not when she knelt next to him. Not even when she rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Prince Edmund.” She tightened her grip on his shoulder, but she didn’t dare even give him a shake. How badly was he injured this time?
She dragged the blanket from his bed and lumped it underneath his head. Once she’d done what she could to make him comfortable, she hurried from the cell and fetched the medical kit from the room around the corner.
She couldn’t do anything like stitch his wounds that would give away to the Mongavarians that someone had been here. But she dabbed away the blood with scraps of cloth and spreading salve over wounds where the Mongavarians wouldn’t see.
Prince Edmund didn’t stir the entire time. He occasionally groaned in pain, but that was all.
As she was finishing up, the door at the top of the stairs rattled. Then there came a banging as a guard tried to open it.
Pip leapt to her feet, her heart hammering. Pain shot through her injured arm at the sudden movement, and she gritted her teeth. Grabbing all the medical supplies, she dashed from Prince Edmund’s cell, ran down the hall for the spare room, and stuffed all the items under the bed. It was the only thing she could think to do with them.
The banging was growing worse. Before too much longer, the guards would grab an acetylene torch and a crowbar to get the door open.
She returned the lock on Prince Edmund’s cell to normal before she returned to her cell and did the same. Once she hadtaken another moment to get her breathing under control, she sent her magic down the wire to unlock the door.
She didn’t wait to see the result. She sank onto her cot and pulled her blanket around her to hide any blood on her clothes.
There came a massive bang accompanied by the ringing of metal on stone. Someone swore.
Footsteps pounded against the stairs before several guards came into view. Yet they didn’t reach for either cell door. They merely stood to the side at attention.
After a moment, softer footsteps scuffed on the stone. Empress Bella herself swept into sight, a golden dress swathed around her petite figure. One of the men Pip had seen standing beside the empress on the dais—likely her son, the emperor-to-be based on his age—strode behind her.
Empress Bella faced Prince Edmund’s cell, her mouth twisting in an expression that was somewhere between disgust and satisfaction. “Guard, wake him up.”
A soldier stepped into view carrying a bucket. He splashed the water over Prince Edmund’s still form.
He groaned and finally shifted, his eyes cracking open before falling shut.
“Prince Edmund.” Empress Bella’s far-too-grandmotherly tone sent shivers over Pip’s skin.
Prince Edmund’s eyes flickered open again. He gave a weak laugh between bloodied lips. “I see you came to gloat.”
Empress Bella pressed her mouth into a tight line, a flash of anger in her eyes. “I see you are still unwilling to tell us what we want to know. But perhaps your little spy will be more willing to talk.”
Little spy? Had they caught Jayna? Pip clutched the blanket tighter around herself, her heart pounding.
Prince Edmund rolled onto his side, reaching for the bars to pull himself somewhat upright. “No. She has nothing to do with this.”
Yet instead of pulling Jayna from the shadows, Empress Bella waved her hand toward Pip’s cell. Two of the guards moved in her direction.
Right. They thought Pip was one of Prince Edmund’s spies. Well, she kind of was, now.
One of the guards opened the door and stood back while the other stomped into her cell. She cringed away from him, her heart in her throat, her mind racing. Was this the point she was supposed to flee? Should she simply pretend she was a terrified, powerless girl? Not that theterrifiedpart would take a lot of pretending.
