The door leads indeed to a prison with a row of cells on one side, the corridor lit by a single, weak lightstone, rendering the place gloomy and strange, not to mention the smell of mold, urine, and who even knows what else. In the last cell, I see Tarlia, lying asleep on a mattress.
“Tarlia,” I whisper.
She gets up and approaches the bars, giving me a faint smile. “Ziven.”
Dark circles line her eyes and she’s horribly pale.
I put the key in the lock—and it doesn’t work.
My stomach sinks and my heart races. Of course this was a trap. I knew it. And yet here I am. How am I going to get Tarlia out of here?
TARLIA
I’m not sure if I’m seeing things already or if this is real. Ziven here! I wish I could greet him with a bigger smile, but my lips are so cracked that they can’t stretch, and my mouth is so dry. So, so dry. After an entire night with no water and no food, I feel as if I’m about to faint.
He’s trying a key on the lock, and keeps looking at the entrance. I hope he’s not alone, and can’t imagine how we’ll get out of here and face Zorwal and his guards.
Finally, he stops using the key. I see some ice around the lock and wonder if he’s trying to break it with his water magic. The door gives, and he pulls me out of the cell and passes me a cape. Lidiane’s cape. I put it on quickly and we head to the exit.
I wish I could exhale in relief, but my chest is tight as I consider the odds that we’ll make out of this castle. And while Zorwal might think I could bring Renel to him, I don’t think Ziven has any value for the despicable council leader. Ziven could be killed.
Before we reach the door, three figures come out of it, their hair dark and tangled, their faces hollow with eyes that seem to look at nowhere, and their clothes barely rags.
In front of me, Ziven tenses. Weaponless, I don’t know what to do. And there’s nowhere to run.
MARLAK
I’ve been advancing alone for almost an hour, under the still scalding afternoon sun. Krat stayed behind, promising he’d wait for me. I just need to be fast enough so I’m back to safety before the night comes.
While killing the Witch King could change the Shadow Lands, I don’t want to be the first to test it. If I kill him.
A small hill at a distance catches my eye and I recall Lidiane’s memory from when they ended up in the Shadow Lands. That memory was blurry with so much fear and worry, and yet I still recall it. This is the place. I’m near the dwelling of the Witch King.
My stepfather wanted me to bring a retinue of guards, but he was likely counting on many of them dying. I don’t want anyone to die for me, and don’t want to worry about burning anyone by accident. Alone is better.
I slow down on my last steps while approaching the area where they transcended after Azur beheaded Zorwal. My stepfather’s instructions mention a hidden copper trapdoor, and yet I think there must be a bigger passage from where ghouls are coming in and out. Then again, the ghouls my brother faced might hide somewhere else during daylight.
Looking carefully at the dry ground, I try to find any signs of a hidden trapdoor, but I think time has buried it too deep under the dust and dry earth. I glance at the small hill. If there’s a bigger entrance, it must be there.
My steps are careful as I approach the only elevation in the earth in this area, my heart oddly steady even if a chill runs up my spine. The base of the hill is rocky and irregular. Then, between two rocks, I see it—a fissure through which a person can go through.
Perhaps I’m sensing the ominous magic coming out of this place as I push myself inward and see that I’m in a dark hallway. Not wanting to use my fire yet, I pull a lightstone from my bag to light the way. Just a tunnel for now, its edges rough, the ground uneven and dry.
The tunnel descends slowly until I hear a sound like someone moaning in pain. No, it’s an inhuman sound, followed by muffled sounds of steps. A line of ghouls comes towards me. With little effort, I push them using a blast of air.
At this point, whatever’s inside has been alerted to my presence here, and since the small tunnel really helps to channel the air, I use some of it to push me.
I come out in a large chamber, similar to a Tiurian sanctuary, but unfinished or destroyed. Hundreds of ghouls stand in formation, like an army, surrounding a throne. On it, I see not the Witch King, but a fae I’ve known for a long time; Crisine. If it’s an illusion, it’s a very realistic one, and somewhat nonsensical.
Why would anyone pretend to be my former lover? Why would they think we were still a couple? And if it’s truly Crisine, why is she here?
ZIVEN
Stupid, worthless key. I’m glad my ice magic could break the lock, but it makes me wonder how much else Mirella is wrong about, and whether Zorwal is playing her, aware that she’d betray him.
Tarlia follows me as we head to the door, my heart beating faster and faster. At least this time I have no arrow wound, and hopefully won’t faint from magic fatigue.
Before we reach it, the door opens, and when I’m sure I’ll see the guards, I see something else. I never thought I’d see one of them: bloodpuppets, with their horrific, expressionless faces.
