Loren hung limply from the wall, his arms stretched wide by the chains that pinned him in place. His head lolled forward, chin to chest, hair falling in a dark, matted curtain that hid most of his face. What remained of his shirt clung to him in blood-soaked tatters, revealing a grim tapestry of angry burns and vicious cuts. Blood still dripped from some of the deeper wounds, leaving sticky, dark trails along his ruined flesh.
“What—” Araya’s voice cracked, a sour taste rising in her throat. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to vomit. “What happened to him?” she demanded, spinning to face Aeron.
The guard stumbled back a step, eyes wide as he took in the grisly scene. “I… I don’t know?—”
“You don’tknow?” Her voice rose, shrill with disbelief. “You were standing right outside the door.” She whipped around, her boots sticking to the tacky blood streaking the floor as she rushed to Loren’s side. “Help me get him down.”
But Aeron didn’t move. He shifted uncomfortably, his handhovering near the hilt of his sword. “Miss, I—I can’t enter the cell or touch the prisoner,” he stammered. “It’s against protocol?—”
Aeron hesitated, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with her words, but still, his boots stayed firmly planted at the threshold. “The rules are very clear?—”
“Fine!” Araya cut him off, her voice shaking as it rose to a near shout. “If you won’t help, then go—go get my medical kit from the workshop!” She pointed at the door, her hands shaking. “Now!”
For a moment, Aeron looked like he might argue, but something in her expression made him think better of it. The door crashed shut between them, his footsteps pounding down the hall. But Araya couldn’t worry about him any more.
She spun back to Loren, her fingers fumbling over the manacles around his wrists. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach, the iron burning her fingertips as she searched for some sort of a release mechanism. There had to be a way to take them off?—
But there was nothing but rough, pitted iron. The mechanism had to be magical—but she’d never even seen it work. She wasn’t strong enough to rip them from the wall like Loren had—even if Jaxon hadn’t had them reinforced.
Araya stepped back, gasping for breath. She couldn’t think over the panic clawing at her, matching the ragged rise and fall of Loren’s battered chest. It flooded her lungs, drowning her. If he died?—
“Loren—” she grasped his face in her burned hands. “Wake up.” She shook him gently, then harder, a ragged sob tearing from her throat. “Please—you can’t just?—”
A sudden commotion echoed from the hallway, the door screeching on its hinges. Araya’s head snapped up, meeting Jaxon’s furious gaze as he stormed into the cell. Aeron hovered behind him, the bag Araya had demanded clutched in both hands.
“What the hell happened here?” Jaxon’s voice cracked like a whip. He whirled, glaring at the guard. “Who was here before you? Who else was given access to the prisoner?”
“I—I don’t know,” Aeron stammered, his voice faltering underthe weight of Jaxon’s glare. “The night guard, I assume—Belkin was supposed to?—”
“Supposed to?” Jaxon snarled. He stepped forward, his next words hissed directly into Aeron’s face. “This prisoner is the key toeverything. And you let him be tortured and left for dead?”
“I didn’t—” Aeron flinched, holding up her bag like it might shield him from Jaxon’s wrath. “Miss Starwind asked me to remove the manacles, but I’m not authorized?—”
“Do you think I care about your authorization?” Jaxon spat. “You do whatever she says from now on. If I find out you’ve hesitatedagain,I’ll make sure you’re the one chained to this wall. Do you understand me?”
Aeron blanched, nodding so hard Araya thought his head might snap off. “Y-yes, Master Shaw.”
“Good.” Jaxon turned away, crossing the cell in two long strides. “Hold him steady, Araya.” His hands moved over the first manacle, burnt aether crackling in the air as the first manacle fell away. Araya stumbled as Jaxon released the other wrist, letting Loren’s full weight fall on her, but then he was there, catching him under the shoulders.
“Get his legs,” Jaxon ordered. Together, they maneuvered Loren down onto the cot, his limp form sprawling across the rough mattress. Araya hovered at his side, her hands trembling as she brushed blood-matted hair from his face.
“He needs a healer,” she said, her voice breaking as she looked up at Jaxon. “I don’t know if he’ll survive without one.Please,Jaxon—call Serafina.”
Jaxon cursed under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair. “You really think she can be trusted with this?”
Araya nodded, her throat too thick with tears to speak. For a moment, she thought Jaxon might still refuse, but then he straightened, looking back at where Aeron still hovered uselessly at the threshold of the cell.
“Send guards to the neighborhood clinic in North Bend,” heordered. “They’re to retrieve a Healer named Serafina Hart and bring her here, along with everything she needs to treat severe injuries. Burns, blood loss—everything.”
“But I can’t leave—” Aeron gulped, his voice faltering under Jaxon’s piercing glare. “Yes, sir. I’ll—yes. But I need to lock the door before I?—”
“Then wait,” Jaxon cut him off sharply. “I need a moment with her. Stay outside until I call you.”
Aeron hesitated, glancing between Jaxon and Araya before giving a jerky nod. “Yes, sir.”
Jaxon crouched beside her, his tone soft but laced with steel. “Araya, look at me,” he said, brushing a thumb lightly against her cheek. “Starling. You’ve done everything you can for him. You need to come with me now.”
Araya shook her head, tears streaking her face as she clutched Loren’s limp hand. “No—I can’t leave him like this. I need to—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her forehead to Loren’s shoulder, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. “Please, Jaxon. He can’t—he can’t?—”
