The general turned sharply, shoved the torch into a sconce and left, his boots clipped and loud before fading away, leaving Orry alone.
Orry wiped a hand across his mouth and looked back into the darkness where General Peleon had been. The light from the torch danced around, but mostly, the gloom won. Orry glanced back at the cell where General Peleon had mentioned a prisoner—awoman—was being held. Leaning forward in his seat, Orry stretched out his left hand, but it barely touched the torch. He tried again, leaning until the chair was on two legs and finally grabbed hold. He held it in front of him, hoping he’d see something.
“Hello?” he called out weakly.
There was quiet shuffling in the darkness, jealously hiding whoever was in the cell.
He tried again. “Hello?”
Orry heard a sigh and then the sound of metal hitting the iron bars as a bruised and bloody hand wrapped around the iron.
“Ormano?”
Terena was startled awake.Her body still ached, but at least her head was not pounding as much as earlier. She turned her head slowly. Satisfied her nausea had gone, she moved her head some more, looking around to get her bearings.
It was dark. She must be in the dungeons. She’d only seen them once when she and Croak had gone exploring, quickly hustling out as the Royal Inquisitor rounded a corner and scolded them for being there. Terena was glad to have Croak with her; the Royal Inquisitor was a terrifying man in social settings but alone in the dungeons is something she didn’t want to imagine.
Now, she wouldn’t have to.
He’d been the first to question her after the guards had beaten her before dragging her down to this cell. He’d taken the fingernails from her right hand first. Terena recalled every second of that, but nothing after. She’d woken to see the Royal Inquisitor sitting in his chair, watching her with his soulless eyes, his face mild as if he was about to have dinner.
Terena closed her eyes and willed the nausea to settle. She didn’t think she’d ever forget what happened next.
Heavy irons banded her wrists. From the pain that arced down her right arm, she was sure it was broken.
As she maneuvered up, Terena pushed her bottom along the ground and up against something. She pulled her broken limb to her lap, cradling it with her left hand. Crying out, she lifted her hand to see blood crusted where the tip of her smallest finger should have been. The chains rattled as she shook.
Breathing slowly, she could hear more chains rattling somewhere off to her right and mutterings and whimpers closer, but could not tell where either came from. It did not matter. She could do nothing but sit and wait and hope her body recovered enough before her jailers came down to interrogate her some more.
She must have fallen asleep again. When she next woke, a dull light danced around the gloomy area beyond the bars. Having slumped over while she’d slept, Terena moved her shoulder on the dirty stone floor, sliding her hip up to pull her leg under her. She gasped as a sharp pain raced up her leg to her hip and she almost passed out. Terena lay back against the ground and gave in to tears again.
“…and question her.”
Terena’s eyes flew open. She tilted her head toward the bars of her cell, sure she’d heard something, someone. A sharp clatter followed, and she winced.
Voices again. One soft, timid… familiar? The other voice she knew, beyond doubt. His words were short and clipped in his high nasal pitch, so at odds with the harsh countenance of the man she’d had to suffer while in the emperor’s employment. His brother, General Peleon, was not someone you’d easily forget.
“We await your judgement,” General Peleon was saying. Terena heard his boots echo in the cave as he walked away.
She shifted again, slithering closer to the bars. She blinked—one eye so swollen she couldn’t open it—until the film over the other was gone and she could see torchlight wavering closer.
“Hello?” the timid voice said at last. Terena stared out, and the torch moved again. The faint outline of a cowl became visible, then a silver chain, then the pinched, round face of an old friend. She reached out a shaky hand and wrapped it around the iron bar in front of her.
“Ormano?” she whispered, hopeful and incredulous.
The torch arced to her right as her friend pitched forward, grasping the bars in both hands. She smiled to see his face, then started crying.
“Terena!”
Her eyes closed, and she sobbed, succumbing to the aches tearing through her body.
“Terena, please,” Ormano said, his voice low and urgent. “Please stop this now. You need to help me, Terena! You need to tell me what in hells is going on!”
Terena’s sobs turned to mewling sounds, and she hated herself for the weakness taking over. She’d never been so hopeless in her life and was sure the grief crashing over her now would finally break her.
“Terena! Focus! We haven’t much time,” he hissed, his voice pleading.
She opened her mouth on a gasp and opened her eye. Only the dark of the ceiling greeted her, so she turned her head to look at her friend.
