“I’ll kill you,” Niel warned, voice rasping. “I’ll kill you if you come in here.”
His heart pounded so loudly he could hear it; could taste metal in his mouth.
“With what, your shackles?” Hannes drawled. “Or the smell?”
Niel pressed back against the wall, raising his wrists. Hannes was right, even if it was meant as a cruel joke. But he'd fight to the death. The chain between Niel’s wrists could be used as a weapon. If he could get it around the older knight’s throat he could strangle Hannes with it.
Nobody was coming to save him. They were deep below the castle, in the Queen’s dungeon.
And nobody, not once in his entire life, had ever come to save Niel before.
Hannes grabbed a spear from beside him. It had been outside the door, and outside Niel’s field of view. Flipping it over skillfully, Niel’s former knight-master rammed the butt into Niel’s chest.
Niel was not in as good condition as when he’d fought Ditmar. Niel was exhausted, freezing, and underfed. He barely saw the blow coming before it hit. Pain burst like a star through him, and he doubled forward with a grunt. Hannes hit him again, then grabbed the chain between Niel’s wrist and yanked him forward. Niel felt the sensitive, raw skin of his wrists split at the sharp pull of the metal. He stumbled from his cell.
He was alone. He was alone, and if he didn’t find a way to save himself, it was all going to happen over again.
He thrashed, kicking out blindly, fighting like a fish in a net to escape. It was futile. His arms jerked up over his head as if by their own will, and Hannes stepped out of reach. Niel’s arms swung higher. In the hall just outside the cell, Hannes had gotten Niel’s shackles hooked onto a chain that had Niel standing with his arms straight over his head. He tugged down, not even caring about the pain, but could not budge it. A strangled, helpless sob escaped his lips.
Not again. Not again.
It was all so futile. He thought he’d escaped Hannes. Thought he’d made himself impervious. Worn armor, and hidden knives all over himself, and slept with one eye open. Sided with his father to gain an entire army, all to kill this one man.
But here he was. Again. Helpless. Alone. With nobody coming. It had all been for nothing. What a fool Niel was, to think he’d actually escaped Hannes before. He was like a wounded hare that had fled a trap and dragged itself off into the forest, only to be caught out by a hunting dog.
“You needn’t worry. I’ve been promised an hour to myself,” Hannes said. “You’ll be back in your cell long bef—”
Niel flinched back as a bright red line appeared across Hannes' neck.
Hannes didn’t have time to lift his hand to it before a hot spray of blood spurt over Niel’s chest. And then Hannesdidclasp a hand to his throat. Another pulse of blood seeped between his fingers, too strong to contain. Hannes crumpled, his eyes glassy and wide with shock as more blood sprayed between his fingers and seeped down his chest. The wound had come from nowhere.
“Luck and Mercy,” Niel whispered. He panted, his whole body shaking, and stared down at the dying corpse of his tormentor. Niel's vision grayed.
And then Ayla, her hands trembling and her mouth grimly tight, peeled off the unicorn cloak and dropped the knife she’dbeen carrying. It clattered to the stone floor. She seemed to appear from empty air, stepping from some other world into the rank dungeon.
“What…?” Niel whispered, his voice high and strained. The room spun around him.
Someone had come. Had saved him. But nobody ever did. Nobody had before.
Was he dreaming? Had Hannes been a nightmare after all, and this,her, a desperate, last grasp of his broken mind? But the pain in his wrists, where the shackles held him upright, was real. And the copper stench of Hannes’ blood filled his nose.
“I’m sorry,” Ayla said, her own voice barely a squeak. “I tried to get in earlier—they would never open the door wide enough, and then—oh, Mercy, Niel,” she said.
Hannes lay gasping on the floor, the blood pooling out from him.
Niel stared at her in shocked disbelief as she worked the mechanism Hannes had used to string him up. And then, as the chain holding him up unspooled far enough that he could slip his shackles off the hook he’d hung from, Niel collapsed.
She caught him. Her body was real, and soft, and her lips pressed to his cheek, and Niel panted against her. And for a long moment, she held him, her arms tight around him, until Niel realized she had no choice but to hold him up. Because he had dropped himself on her and she was the only thing holding his weight up from the floor, up from the ground where his tormentor’s body lay. He straightened slowly to stand on his own two legs, and bent his forehead against hers, still caught in disbelief.
Rescue
She’d known he was in poor condition during the march. Ayla had seen his eyes go dull, seen how differently he carried himself. She cursed herself every time she didn’t take an opportunity to get the shackle-keys, but the knights leading him had kept those on their hips. She’d kept following, waiting. And then they had gotten to Liron, and it was too late.
She had never been there before. But it was easy to be a mouse in a building as big as the royal palace, taking food from the kitchens and clean clothes from the laundry. Trying to feed herself on the march had been harder.
Anticipating an escape, she'd stolen flint, candles, soap, and a waterskin to add to the bag Niel had left for her. She didn’t feel guilty for stealing from the palace. With the unicorn cloak over her shoulders, there was plenty of room in the sack. He’d left her a heavy bundle of gold from Ditmar’s treasury, and a dagger, neither of which was of much use to an invisible woman hiding in the castle’s shadows. She wore the dagger on her hip all thesame, just in case someone realized she was there and tried to grab her.
She’d found a cold, unused bedroom with a sheet draped over each piece of furniture: reassurance enough that a servant wouldn’t be in for daily tidying. She’d have preferred to sleep in front of the door they’d led Niel through, but there was too much risk of someone tripping over her and revealing her presence. Andthenwhere would Niel be, with his only would-be rescuer gone?
