Have the city walls been breached?
Are Myrtle and her baby also in this Elders-forsaken dungeon, and Tayna—
Rolling my shoulders and twisting my hands, I struggle against the chains until sweat drips into my eyes. I have to get out of here. It’s clearly pointless. Magic or physical strength won’t get me out of here.
Mine and Tayna’s lives are literally depending on what’s between my ears. And so far, it has always managed to get me out of the tightest situations.
Rule number one: always keep a cool head.
When the Stormbird brothers waited for me every day after Friar Ben’s classes to beat me up because I’d refused to share my apples with them?
Kept a cool head, formed some risky alliances, and came up with a new plan every day, which made those fire-haired demons give up in the end.
That time when Corporal Darron from the City Guard thought I’d cheated him on dice? Well, maybe I did just a little. Darron—people believe that he has giants somewhere down his ancestral tree. The man was twice my size, and yet I managed to escape his wrath.
Those and countless more stories—every night of my life has been a story of survival, and I’m not planning to give up yet.
Not when Tayna’s life and happiness are at stake and when Myrtle and her son are somewhere in this dreadful place.
Heavy steps rumble in the corridor, clearly heading my way, and the other prisoners grow suddenly quiet. Even the monstrous howling has stopped.
Limbs shaking, I push myself up and press my face against the rusty bars, trying to see who’s coming.
When the pale face of the merchant Myrtle lured to the stables appears, I take a sharp breath and struggle not to stumble back.
Get your shit together, Talysse. It’s time for rule number one.
“That’s her, constable! This is the woman who tried to kill me with magic!”
He points at me, and I cannot help but feel a sting of pride when spotting the bandage around his head.
The constable’s cold gaze studies me through the bars. This mountain of a man has a spotless reputation and has put a great deal of my kind behind bars. Or worse. Another streak of bad luck. Bribing my way out with sweet promises or seduction is out of the question.
“Are you sure?” the constable asks, his tone betraying no emotion. This man is an iceberg.
“I swear it on my honor.” The merchant touches his white bandage. “It is her who assaulted me, and as the Free Cities Trading Ambassador, I want to see her punished.”
For the sake of fucking Atos.
From all the men we could’ve picked, we decided to rob the bloody Trading Ambassador!
The constable shrugs and leaves without saying a word. That’s all the information he needs to seal my fate. I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands, tempted to punch myself in the stupid face. This is all very, very bad news.
The ambassador lingers before my cell and glares at me with red, hatred-filled eyes as if I am some kind of bug he contemplates how to crush.
“I’ll be laughing when you hang, bitch.” He spits on the dirty stone floor. “And your whore friend, too.”
Taunting me when I’m cornered is a bad idea. Threatening me with the unjust fate of my parents is worse. But involving my friend? I summon a tiny flicker of magic around my fingers, pretending I’m about to hurl it at him, cackling like mad. The warded shackles suppress most magic, but he doesn’t know that. I laugh like a demon when he runs down the corridor, but as soon as his footsteps die out, I throw myself on the floor, trying to steady my shaky hands.
Things cannot get worse on this cursed night. I quickly shake off this blasphemous thought, as fate has always proved to me that things can always get worse. It’s our limited mortal imagination that cannot picture anything worse.
*
The hours stretch, and my headache makes me retch again. In some delusional flashes of hope, I try to slip my hands from the tight, cold grasp of the shackles, then bang against the cell bars or pace around endlessly, rehearsing speeches in my defense.
Which are utterly useless. Everyone knows what happens to poor, nameless women when they stand up against men in power.
Especially women from a family of traitors.
