Page 192 of The Eye of the Fifth
Her body felt as though she’d done a few rounds in the Arc without a break. Stiff and aching, without a hint of magic sparkling in her blood.
Whatever potion Gedeon had shoved down her throat had been potent enough to still have a hold on her power. Not ideal to bewithout it, in this place of all places. A dragon’s nest might have been safer.
Good morning, Sunshine.
Head pounding, Kyra heaved herself to a seated position. Gedeon was staring at her through iron bars, a small smile on his lips.
I feel fucking horrible,she moaned, pressing cold fingers to her temples in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.
That potion is nasty. I am sorry, for my part. I could not have refused the order.
I don’t care.They had made it into Dracyg without being caught. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Rosary had never been closer. She gripped the bars and pulled herself up to standing.Where are we? Is Rosary in here?
Iron clanked as Gedeon turned a key in the lock.We are in the Wielders barracks. Rosary is unlikely to be here. In truth, I cannot be sure where she would be, but the castle dungeons would be a good place to start.
The door swung open, the hinges whining.
How far?
Not long.
Then, let’s go.
‘Kyra.’
Her name on his lips, out loud, sent a shiver up her spine. She looked up at him and hissed, ‘What?’
‘You must prepare yourself for what you might see.’ Regret glittered in his eyes. ‘Your sister may not be alive.’
Not even for a millisecond did Kyra let those words settle. ‘Sheisalive,’ she whispered furiously. ‘I know she is.’
As though he was pulling on a cloak, Gedeon’s arms whipped around them, casting them into darkness. A large, surprisingly calloused hand wove itself into Kyra’s. She flinched, wanting to pull away, but her vision was now clear, with the bearer of those dense shadows permitting her sight.
Gedeon’s fingers seemed to tighten around hers.I hope you’re right.
Soon, Rosary would be with them.
Soon, Gedeon’s darkness would cover not two, but three as they escaped into the night. She had to believe that. With everything that she was.
The alternative could not cross her mind.
A rain slick, gravelled path led them around the back of the mighty Black Castle. It was an infrastructure not of beauty, but magnificence. It was taller than Avaldale’s Citadel, a spiked, uneven crown whose spires looked to be as sharp as the tip of a blade. Made entirely, by the looks of it, of the hardened rock that was contrived from cooling lava.
The path dove down toward a gate of congregated iron that appeared to lead under the castle. It swung inward as they approached. Abruptly, Gedeon stopped.
‘What?’ Kyra demanded. He was wastingtime.
Unease lay thick on his face. ‘Where are the sentries? They should be here.’
‘Isn’t it a good thing that they’re not?’ Kyra said impatiently. ‘Please, Gedeon. We have to keep moving. She’s here, I know it.’
He gave a slow, not entirely convinced nod, and they pressed on. The gate clanged shut behind them.
Facing a dank tunnel that reeked of death, Kyra let go of Gedeon’s hand. Large brackets of blazing fire were spread evenly against the walls, casting its light into each and every cell.
Cells with people barely clinging to life. Cells with centuries old skeletons. Cells with corpses whose flesh had been gnawed at by something with little sharp teeth. Cells with people who had lost their minds, uttering the same words to themselves. Over and over and over again.
There were no sentries on guard down here either.
