Fear sat at the mouth of the cave in his usual posture—straight-backed, sword-in-lap, facing away from her. She couldn’tremember a day when she hadn’t been tortured right at dawn. Then again, Fear had said she was running out of time. Maybe they were giving her a reprieve in hopes she would say something.
She never would, and she prayed today would be her last.
She ate her usual breakfast of stale bread, cold meat slowly, as she always did, attempting to trick her body into thinking it was enough. She had long since forgotten what a full meal felt like—what other foods tasted of. Trying to keep her strength was difficult since they gave her just enough to keep her alive and not a morsel more.
After her body finished healing each day, she tried to exercise as much as she could, given her range of motion. In her usual position of lying flat on her back, she used the little wiggle room she had to do small crunches and leg lifts. When they’d chained her face down on the ground afterhebrutalized her back, she did push-ups until her arms went numb. Anything she could do to keep her body from completely deteriorating.
When she’d first started moving in a way that could’ve only resembled a dying fish out of water, her guards had tried to get her to stop. They’d shortened her chains even more, but as a result, they’d had to feed her and clean up her excrement. They grew tired of that quickly.
So they left her enough length to eat, sit up, wiggle around, and use the small bucket set in a hole dug in the ground for all her bodily functions. She was not as strong as she used to be, of course—with limited range of motion there was only so much she could do. But it kept her body active and her mind occupied in an attempt to not lose her sanity.
As she reached for her water, her feet jostled during the movement. She froze.
Usually, her ankles strained against the tight iron manacles and short chains, but this time the cuffs loosened, and her feet slipped the tiniest bit. She tried to keep her breathing quiet as she examined her shackles.
The lock was not latched properly.
Carefully, as silently as possible, she slid one foot farther out of the cuff. She was amazed to see that if she wanted to, she could probably get out of them entirely. She slipped her foot back into place and glanced at Fear to make sure he hadn’t heard anything. He showed no signs of movement.
Her mind raced with possibilities. Her hands were still firmly restrained, and with no way to pick the lock ... her train of thought shifted. The shackles on her ankles were held together by long pins. If they were already loose, she could possibly use them to pry open the locks on her hands. It would be difficult, but she had no other choice—she was running out of time.
With the knowledge that Latham was no longer coming, she had to hold on to this miniscule glimmer of hope that she could somehow make it out of this. It occurred to her that they could be lying to break her but for some reason, she didn’t think that was the case. Ifhehad said it, she wouldn’t give the words any weight, but it had been Fear.
Plans flitted through her mind like leaves on the wind until one that was plausible landed. It was going to be painful, but she would endure it once more. Solveig steeled herself to the fact that today she would either escape or be executed.
Either result would suit her just fine.
As she heard those distinct footfalls, she accepted what she had to do. Fear got to his feet ashecame into view. They whispered to each other, both their bodies rigid. Fear resumed his seated position andhecame closer, his breathing heavy and steps loud.
No questions today. This was it.
“Good afternoon, puppet,” he whispered. “I hope you enjoyed your morning off. Maybe you’ll show your appreciation by dancing for metoday.” Solveig suspiciously eyed the new hammer looped through his belt.
As much ashehad learned about her, she had learned about his habits as her torturer. If she spat at him, she would be sliced open. If she gave him an insolent finger, he would beat her. But when she cried, that was his favourite, loving the taste of her tears as he licked them off her face.
He would string her up by her hands and strip her naked. Fear would leave and Water would replace him as her guard. In any other circumstance, she would think he cared about her propriety.
Solveig mentally snorted at the prospect that Fear had any decent bone in his body.
Taking a shallow breath, she started to whimper. She had one chance and would not waste it. Her sobs came easily as her terror grew when he stepped closer and knelt down beside her. Her body trembled out of habit, but she was careful not to yank at her loose chains.
“What’s the matter, puppet? Not happy to see me today? Did you think I’d let an entire day go by without visiting you?” He tsked. “Now what fun would that be?” Tears streamed down her face as he grabbed her by the chin. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“It’s a shame really,” he said, his breath rancid against her cheek, “to waste a specimen like yourself. I could’ve played with you forever.” He sighed as he stood again.
Solveig cried harder, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick, but it wasn’t far from how she was feeling.
He chuckled and, as she knew he would, unlocked the chains on her hands from the ground before hoisting them up to sling around the giant hook on the cave ceiling.
This hook haunted her nightmares, both in waking and in sleep as it loomed overhead, but it may very well be her salvation.
Fear was already standing to leave. He paused at the cave entrance and, for the second time in eighty-nine days, he looked at her directly. Solveig’s magic flared, seething, straining in her veins. This was not part of her plan. If Fear didn’t leave or if he joinedhimtoday, it was over for her.
Instead, Fear took a deep breath and left. Solveig didn’t know what to make of it. Before she could dwell on it further,hetore her shirt clean off, the smell of rain disappearing with it. She braced herself, knowing she only had moments before Water appeared.
He yanked her hands to ensure they were secure, but before he could remove her pants and check her ankles, she slipped out of the shackles and kicked him hard in the face.
His nose cracked beneath her heel, flooding her with a sick sense of satisfaction at delivering the same injury he’d first given her.
