The screams were deafening.
They reverberated throughout the dark corridors of the prison, piercing the cold, dank air like a sharp blade.
Aya slammed herself against the rough wooden door hard enough to make it rattle, her shoulder aching as she hit it again.
Again.
Again.
She knew these cells were impenetrable. The door was reinforced with iron forged by the Zeluus. There were no windows, the only source of light coming from Incend flames that sat in oval basins too high up the walls to reach, eliminating any chance of a prisoner using them for leverage.
There was nothing. Nothing but stone walls, that wooden door that would not break, and those screams. The pain in them. The pleading. It was enough to cleave through to her very core, to have her throw herself against that immoveable door until her body ached, until her throat was raw from her own shouting.
The screaming didn’t cease.
Aya backed away until she hit the rough stone behind her. She covered her ears and slid to the ground, her teeth digging into her lip until she tasted blood.
Tova’s screams were deafening.
And Aya was breaking.
It could’ve been minutes later. Or hours. It felt like an eternity either way by the time it finally stopped. For a moment, the only noise was a violent retching, followed by fading footsteps. Then the dungeon fell silent. Aya’s eyes were glassy as she stared at the door.
She felt nothing. None of the aches from the Athatis. None of the pain from Will throwing her to the ground. She felt nothing but the numbness that radiated throughout her body, which trembled no matter how tightly she hugged her knees to her chest.
There were no cries from Tova’s cell. There was no noise at all save for the steady drip of water somewhere in the hallway.
She had to be alive. Aya had to believe that she would’ve felt some shift in the world if Tova had died, some crack in the realm if he had truly taken her life.
She had to be alive. The alternative was too unforgivable.
But the blade. The papers. The book.
She refused to believe it. Refused to believe her friend was conspiring to destroy their home. Someone was framing her – someonehadto be framing her. The fact that it was even in question, that Gianna would orderthisdone to her general …
Aya closed her eyes as she rested her head against the wall behind her.
She should stand. Should prepare to face whatever was coming her way. Because he was coming for her next, of that she was sure. And it would be worse. It would be so much worse after what had happened in the market.
She’d be surprised if she lived to see another day.
Aya forced a breath, unable to bring herself to spend more than a few moments contemplating what she’d done. Every time she tried, her shaking grew worse. Perhaps she was stillin some sort of shock. Or perhaps it was because with Tova’s screams still ringing in her ears, she couldn’t quite hold onto a thought anyway. Except for one:
That once again, she’d brought pain and suffering to someone she loved.
That if today was any indication, the question she’d been asking herself for thirteen years was true.
She was, indeed, a monster.
Forgive me, Divine ones. Forgive me.
Aya forced herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her. She steeled herself as she stared at that door. Slowly, she let her sleeves unravel from where she’d twisted them around her hands, her thumb brushing her left palm, seeking the soothing comfort of the raised skin there.
There was nothing.
Aya froze, the world slowing as she glanced down.
Her scar, the blood oath she’d taken to the Dyminara, was gone. Her thumb ran over the skin again, her nails digging into her wrist as she held her palm closer to her face, looking for some sign of the white ridge.
