Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3) Page 5

  I froze, keeping the noise trapped in my chest, a lone tear escaping my eye whether I had wanted it to or not. I looked at my father with as much hatred, as much power as I could muster. I found the sleeping magic within me and prodded it, but nothing happened. My now mortal body was useless and strung up before my father for whatever torture he had in mind.

  "Say, hello," he prompted again, his fists flexing by his sides.

  I stared at him, my jaw clenched, ready for the impact to come – when he smiled.

  “Don’t you want to see your mate, princess?” he snarled, and my eyes widened. His smile only increased. I hung my head, not wanting to let him win, but I had no other choice. This time he would win.

  "Hello, Father," I growled from behind clenched teeth. He said nothing. He only nodded his head to someone in the dark and the chains loosened, sending me tumbling to the ground. My arms were still extended above my head, although not as painfully as they were a moment before. My body relaxed with the loosened position, and while I still fought the urge to scream and cry with the pain, it was manageable.

  "You do what I say, Wynifred. I do not care what deal Talon worked out with Edmund. You are my child, and I will do with you what I please." His voice was soft as he came to kneel down next me, his finger pushing aggressively into the tender skin of my now battered face.

  "You stay silent, you do as I say, and we may not have to do this anymore."

  I glared at him, not willing to take my gaze away, not willing to accept the weak position he had set up for me. He took my silence as affirmation, the pressure of his fingers leaving my face as he moved away from me.

  "Good girl," Timothy said, his voice making it sound like he was addressing a dog. “Now, your brother has just arrived in Prague, and I am sure he has news, if not a heart, for your Master.” He smiled once more before disappearing into the darkness, the heavy sound of his footsteps on the stairs announcing his departure.

  I tried to focus through the dark, squinting to see anything through the black that surrounded me, but without the aid of my magic, I saw nothing. I eventually gave up and sank back into the wall, trying to ignore the fire that was thrumming in my shoulders and arms.

  "Do what he says, Wynifred, and keep your secret safe." The voice came from the darkness where the movement had come from before, the sound deep and rough like sandpaper. I recognized it at once. It was the same voice I had heard in Ovailia’s room, the one that had told me to run.

  I turned my head toward the sound but only saw darkness, my eyes squinted, but no shapes formed through the black.

  "Excuse me?" I asked, not sure what the voice was talking about, my voice broken and muffled because of the swelling in my face.

  "No talking!" The new voice was loud and powerful. The warning from what could only be a guard floated through the air toward me, and I shrank into the stone wishing I had a way to attack him.

  No magic to heal my body, no magic to increase my sight, and not even the slightest of pulls to signal to me that Talon was alive. I clung to the hope that he was still alive as I leaned my head against the stone wall, wishing sleep would take me but knowing it wouldn't. Without wanting to, my eyes floated back toward the darkness where the rough male voice had come from. I could only assume it was the battered man Edmund had been dragging around with him.

  I wished I knew who he was – or at least part of me did. The other part was not so sure. I didn’t want to know whose side he was on or what Edmund had done to him. I didn’t want to know what Edmund was capable of, what was in store for me.

  For years, I had watched them drag Skȓíteks down to the pit of whatever house we lived in. I had heard the screams, seen the blood that they washed off their hands. Now I was on the receiving end. I didn’t want to know what was behind the screams. I didn’t want to see the blood being drawn.

  Now I was going to. I had seen what they had done to the battered man, and to Talon. I didn’t want to think about him because the thoughts only brought fear, but part of me was rejoicing that I wasn't alone down here.

  The minutes stretched into hours and thankfully, my arms began to go numb. My head swam as my blood flow got all muddled, my body calling for water, food, and above all, a bathroom – none of which, I knew, would be provided.

  I shifted my weight for the millionth time, the chains rattling as my joints surged with pain before settling back into the burn of numbness that was becoming normal.

  Still, sleep did not come, no matter how much I wished it would.

  I jumped as steps sounded on the staircase, the loud thump of feet cutting through the icy silence that had been the only sound since Timothy had left. The heavy sound of feet, many feet, increased as they came closer. Tension built in my stomach, the flare of fear working its way up my spine. My eyes looked through the dark, toward the sound, desperate to make out anything in this utter blackness.

  "This guy is heavy!" The thick voice of a man filtered down the stairs, his voice deepened by the echo of the stairway.

  "Stop complaining and use your magic." Another one joined the first, my stomach twisting with uncertainty.

  "This is ridiculous," the first man said, "Edmund is just going to kill them all anyway."

  An impatient growl followed the first man’s comment and a loud rumble of something being dropped on stone echoed through the cold dark room.

  "What is going on here?" A new voice, a voice I recognized at once, cut across the first two. Cail's voice was loud and angry as dozens of footsteps joined the first two who had clogged the stair well.

  My eyes were drawn to the only light I had seen in hours, a gentle blue light that got stronger as the voices got closer. It shone through the blackness directly in front of me, the light dim but growing. I pulled toward it, like a moth, my desperation for sight rippling into my spine. Soon, the glow was enough to filter into the prison, letting me see what hell I had been trapped in.

  The prison was a long wide hall, one half broken up with thick metal bars that segmented us into five-foot by five-foot squares, with not even enough space to lie flat and straight. There were no windows, and it was obvious that nothing had been cleaned for centuries. I had smelled the mildew smell before, but now I knew why. A glistening sheen of wet covered the stone, the bars, even the large padded stool where a lone guard had sat. My eyes burned a bit at the light as I looked around. All the cells were empty to my left, as well as all but one to my right – where the battered man I had seen before was chained by his hands against the wall. He caught my gaze as I looked at him, the bright green of his eyes startling even in the dark. He eyes pleaded with me from behind his unkempt beard and hair as he placed his finger to his lips. I only nodded; the need for silence was evident.

  "Why aren't you two down there yet?" Cail continued, his voice rising.

  "I'm sorry, sir," the first man said, his voice soft and pleading.

  I couldn't help the twitch that moved through my spine as Timothy's voice joined the others. "Just get down there and do what you were asked."

  "Yes, sir," the two men mumbled together, and the footsteps returned, the light increasing as they all moved into the prison.

  The battered man’s warning was lost the moment I saw them. The two men I had heard arguing a moment before carried with them a hulking form with a mess of sandy brown hair I knew all too well.

  "Talon!" I couldn't help it. I screamed, I yelled, and I fought against my chains. The small space filled with my voice as I yelled for him, the rattling of my chains almost loud enough to drown out my panic.

  He didn't respond. He didn't even twitch as they dragged him into the cell right next to mine, dropping him to the ground and not even bothering to chain him before they closed the bars that trapped him in the tiny space.

  My body was on fire as I fought against the chains, every muscle, every bone, pulling in agony. I barely registered the pain. My need to get to him was too strong. I needed to touch him, to feel his heartbeat, to prove that he
was still alive. I screamed, battled, yelled and pleaded, knowing it was of little use, but still, I couldn't help myself.

  "Will someone shut her up?" I heard Timothy yell above my screams. I should have seen someone coming, but I was so focused on Talon’s limp body in the cell next to mine that I didn't know anyone had come into my cell until a foot collided with my stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of me and sending me back against the wall.

  I stopped screaming as I groaned in pain, gasping for breath. The chains around my wrists clattered as I slid down the wall, my arms pulling back into their extended position above my head. I couldn't take my eyes off Talon. I panted with pain as I watched him, my heart pleading with me to find a way over to him, my mind yelling at me that it was impossible. I looked at Talon until a strong hand grasped my jaw, causing me to wince at the pressure he placed on the tender skin as he turned me to face him.

  "Don't push me, Wynifred,” Cail sneered right in my ear before his closed fist hit me hard against my cheek.

  I stayed silent as I turned back to look at him, my eyes narrowing in fight and warning. It was a useless threat; there wasn’t anything I could do to him. He smiled once before moving out of the cell to stand in the small hallway that lined the jail block.

  "Ryland," Cail said, his attention turning from me to the black-eyed man behind him. My head whipped up as Cail spoke his name. I don’t know why I didn’t expect him to be here. Ryland was just as much one of Edmund’s puppets as my brother was now.

  Ryland stepped forward, his face blank, his curls limp as they hung damp around his head. "Go sit by Sain, and chain your legs together."

  Sain? The first of the Drak? The one Ovailia betrayed? The one Edmund killed? My head bounced between Cail and Ryland, hoping for a clue about who they were talking about. Without a word, Ryland walked into the cell with the battered man, sat down next to him, and chained his own ankles.

  Sain.

  Sain. It couldn't be; it just couldn't. My mind begged me not to believe it, but deep down I knew it was true. Sain looked at me with those bright green eyes of his, his one glance daring me to deny what I already knew. He was Sain. I had no idea how, or why, but I was sure it was him.

  Ryland's movements were stiff, his vision unfocused as he followed Cail's odd demands. I looked between all of them: my brother and father who were focused on Ryland, Talon's limp body in the cell next to mine, Ryland as a shell of himself, and Sain, his green eyes still boring into mine, the power behind them evident even beneath the blood soaked hair and the bruised face.

  Timothy moved over to where Ryland and Sain sat, Sain lifting his chained hands up to him. Timothy removed one of the chains from Sain’s wrist and reattached it on Ryland's. Sain did not fight, and Ryland did not move. The eeriness of it scared me. I didn't know what they were doing, and I didn't want to.

  "Ready," Timothy said as he stepped out of the cell, closing the door to the tiny space behind him and trapping the two men inside. "Turn him off, son."

  "Yes, Father," Cail said obediently, and for one split second, the prison was quiet except for the sound of my chains as I looked between them. The sound of my heart was like a beating drum in my ears as the silence pumped me full of dread. They were waiting for something, and the mystery as to what was terrifying. The silence dragged before the air opened up with a scream so mournful that I jumped, my own tears threatening as my soul understood the absolute heartbreak that the sound encompassed.

  I recoiled into myself as Ryland began to writhe and fight against the chains that he had bound himself with only moments before. Sain's emaciated body moved around like a rag doll with each of Ryland’s spasms as he fought against his own restraints. Ryland screamed and yelled and howled, his now blue eyes panicked as he attempted to claw his way out of the cell.

  I watched him as he reeled and fought, my heart thumping. This was like no side of Ryland I had ever seen. This was not the compliant Ryland that Cail seemed to control. It was not the aggressive Ryland that had attacked us at the party, nor was he the calm and loving boy that I had seen with Joclyn before this all began. He was desperate, emotionally unstable and terrifying. It was the terrifying factor that affected me the most. That raw primal aggression was powerful as he repeatedly lunged against his chains, hitting his head against the bars in an attempt to move through them.

  I scooted as far away from him as possible. My arms stretched painfully above me as I moved toward Talon, knowing he couldn't protect me, but needing to move away from the scene in the cell in front of me. As much as I wanted to move away, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I am not sure I would have been able to look away even if I hadn’t been chained. I am not sure I wanted to. A part of me needed to see what they had done to Ryland, to understand what was coming for me.

  "Joclyn!" he screamed, his voice weak and breaking. "What have you done to her?" Ryland continued to scream and writhe as Cail laughed, his footsteps heavy as he moved to stand in front of Ryland’s cell, right next to our father.

  "I haven't done anything to her," Cail said innocently. "What you should be wondering is what you have done to her."

  Ryland froze, his jaw working in terror, "What I did?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did… nothing…nothing… I’m good. Not hurt…”

  Ryland rambled for a moment, his words disjointed as his head twitched around.

  "What did you make me do?" Ryland asked, the sporadic action disappearing quicker than it had come on.

  "I didn't make you do anything, Ryland," Cail taunted, his voice heavy with malice. "Did you hurt her?"

  "You made me hurt her!" Ryland yelled, his body pushing against the chains that bound him so tightly. What little relaxation my shoulders had found left as I tensed away from the anger in Ryland's voice.

  “Made me hurt…made me hurt…” he repeated, his voice clicking through the mechanic repetition.

  "Now, now," Cail taunted, his voice calm and condescending. "I did nothing of the sort. I didn't wrap my hands around her neck. Did you?"

  Ryland's voice broke for only a moment before he answered in a hiss, "Yes…yes."

  "Did I break her arm?" Cail asked, his back arching as he lowered himself to Ryland's eye level.

  "No." Ryland repeated over and over again. His voice had weakened in desperation, his body now only barely fighting against the chains.

  "Did she try to kill me? Did I try to kill her?" I froze, my breathing catching at Cail's words. I knew what they were talking about, but it didn't make any sense. Joclyn tried to kill Ryland? She hadn't said anything about this.

  "No." Ryland's voice was soft.

  "Did you?" Cail taunted. It was not a question.

  "Yes."

  "Will you do it again?" Cail spoke to him like a psychiatrist, his words soothing, and yet the intention behind them was heavy and as clear as day. “Will you hurt her?”

  “Hurt her…hurt her…hurt her,” Ryland repeated as he began to rock, the rocking stopping suddenly as he switched over again, his voice loud.

  "No!" Ryland roared, his desperation coming back quickly. "No." Ryland yelled and screamed as he fought against the chains, pulling at the heavy link that bound him to the rock wall.

  "Really?" Cail taunted, his back straightening as he stood. "But she hurts you in your dreams doesn't she?"

  "No. Nonono…"

  "What about when she kissed me, when her hands were all over me," Cail paused, “that hurt, didn’t it?”

  Ryland said nothing but looked around frantically, his eyes darting all over the dungeon as his breathing picked up, his fingers curling as he moaned a deep lament filled with agony.

  Watching him was traumatizing. I found myself torn between pity, an insane desire to help him, and fear over the explosive nature of his moods. I tried to catch his eyes, hoping that maybe getting him to see me would calm him, but he didn't seem to notice anyone other than Cail. Sain, however, was staring into me with his bright green eyes, seemingly obliviou
s to the exchange going on mere inches from him.

  I returned Sain's stare, not knowing where else to look, not wanting to see Cail torment Ryland anymore. I looked at him, silently hoping that the strong gaze of the old man's eyes would fill in the gaps I was so obviously missing.

  "Or what about when she tried to snap your neck?" Cail asked.

  "It wasn't her."

  "But you just saw her, on the roof top of that little farmhouse, clinging to Ilyan," Cail taunted, his lips turned in a sneer. Timothy chuckled wickedly at the look on Ryland's face.

  “Nonononono,” Ryland moaned, his fingers curling again as he rocked back and forth, his head hitting against the bars several times.

  "Do you think he's kissed her?" Cail whispered, the harshness of his voice hissing through the damp prison.

  "No." Ryland's voice was strong, but forced, his belief in his words wavering, his body still rocking as he fought whatever demons had been placed in his head.

  "I saw Ilyan kiss Joclyn. I looked into the window of Sain's mind and saw her kiss him. Her hands wrapped through that hair of his as he touched her, loved her, and kissed her."

  Cail spoke softly as if to a lover, but the tone of his voice only triggered Ryland’s violence. His voice cracked and broke as he cried out at Cail’s words, and he pulled at his hair and clawed at the shackles around his ankles. I moved myself away from him as if his pain would infect me. His voice opened again into that same mournful whine, the deep hollow noise of it the sound of heartbreak and betrayal. I jerked as the loud noise broke the silence of our prison, my sharp intake catching my father's attention. He glared at me in warning before returning to Ryland's fit.

  "And she kissed him back." Cail barely got the words out before Ryland lunged at the door to his prison, his hands shooting through the narrow space between the bars as he reached for my brother. Ryland's fingers moved and flexed, intent on clawing out Cail's eyes, but he couldn’t reach far enough, the chains that bound him to the wall and to Sain were too restrictive. I heard my father laugh and was sure that Cail was sneering, but I couldn't look away from Ryland.