I. Not you. Not we. I.
“You resent me, don’t you?” I whisper, thinking of what my father told me. His thumb and fingers press into my cheeks, making it hard to speak. “All that scheming, all that power you consolidated foryearsas you expanded the Creed, and you’re still nothing compared to a scared little girl.”
He chuckles, low and raspy, like daggers scraping against stone. “You think you have the answers. But you barely have the questions.” Stillness overtakes me, and the ground I thought I was gaining slips under my feet. The vicar is still one step ahead—still more powerful with knowledge I don’t yet have. “You don’t even know what power you possess, and that’s why you can’t be trusted to keep it.”
The vicar releases me and strides for the door, calling through before I can get a word in. “Take her away.”
The prelate and the other inquisitors enter eagerly. I stand, calm and composed on the outside, but on the inside, I’m rattled by the vicar’s words. Frantically, I covertly scan the room for one person: Lucan. Yet he’s nowhere to be found. A pang of hurt strikes me in the chest like a crossbow bolt. I don’t blame him for leaving. He was probably freed. But I wanted to see him one last time…
They take me from the room and through back hallways that are crumbling and ancient, yet clearly still well-tended by the endless repairs. It doesn’t take long to affirm my initial suspicion of this place—the arena connects to Mercy Spire itself.
I did it, I think dryly as I march forward.I made it into Mercy after all.
61
Mercy is as brutal as its knights.
The walls become perfectly smooth, all cracks plastered over. Sconces in the shape of dragons’ maws illuminate the passageways. The Etherlight-fueled lighting casts an eerie glow on just how barren it all is.
I’m taken to a cage similar to the ones that were in the basement of the monastery, in that it’s a metal cube of bars in the center of a room—this way, inquisitors can surround me on all sides. The cage door is open and waiting when I arrive.
“Get in.” The prelate shoves me harder than necessary. I was already stepping forward. She slams the door shut behind me with a deafening finality. The minute the bars encase me, I taste bile in the back of my throat.
Don’t lock me in here. Don’t lock me in here. Don’t…I want to beg, over and over, but I force myself to maintain composure. I will not give them, or the vicar by proxy, the satisfaction.
“Do I need to worry about people torturing me while I’m inside this cage?” I turn to face her, trying to hide how my chest feels tighter with every ragged breath.
Her lips curl into a wicked smirk. “You’ll take whatever comes your way,traitor.”
“That’s for the vicar to decide,” I counter, not letting the word hit me the way she wants. “And last I heard, I was still ‘Valor Reborn.’”
The prelate tilts her head to the side. Her voice drops. “Only as long as that’s useful to him.”
I’m reminded of what Father said. It almost…sounds like a warning? But not from the prelate. Surely not.
“Don’t worry, Isola. You’ll be dealt with soon enough.” Theprelate steps back and turns. Three inquisitors follow her out, and three remain.
No…not inquisitors. Not here. These are fully trained, veteran Mercy Knights. The way they hold the crossbows is different from any of the inquisitors I’ve seen. Their stances only suggest that they are relaxed. I’m in a room with hardened killers, and it feels more dangerous than being face-to-face with a dragon.
Sitting in the center of my cage, I wait and focus on controlling my breathing and my wild, racing thoughts. The air is thick. Choking.What is going to come, will come, I remind myself. Panic won’t suit. If anything, it will be used against me as a sign I’m dragon cursed.
I have one more night to wait, and then this is all over. Then I’m deemed a citizen, whether traitor or not. I will see Lucan and Saipha again and—
My thoughts halt.
Oh, Saipha, you were so close…Her memory has my eyes stinging.
You promised me, Isola, I can almost hear her say from beyond.
I promised I would stay with her, and I failed her. If she’d gone through the door, maybe she would’ve never transformed. She would’ve felt safe, and been fed, and it would’ve bought us time. Maybe I would have found a way to mitigate the curse, like Mum’s tinctures.
I could’ve helped her. Never have I been more sure of anything in my life. Mum’s research, my own abilities,somehow. I would’ve somehow gained more knowledge of the power within me, if it’s even helpful at all. The thought is heavy in my chest, so heavy it nearly breaks me as much as it sets my blood to boiling—like a hot ball of molten iron.
I could’ve helped her if this city hadn’t stopped me.
I force her from my thoughts. I can’t fall apart. Not now. Nothere. One day, I’ll cry for Father and for Saipha. But today is not that day.
So, instead, I focus on intentionally making my mind as empty as possible. Anything else can wait until I’m free of this predicament…IfI’m ever free.No, focus, Isola. There will be a path out. I just need to find it. But it’s hard to imagine my path to freedom when I’m trapped in a cageinsidea locked room where knights stand guard, with who knows how many more knights on the other side of the door, in a whole tower of knights.
