Her head snapped toward the loose stone in the corner.
"It would’ve made you convulse, scream loud enough to shake the walls. The guards would've thought you were dying. They’d have dragged you out, right to me."
Her hands shook as she crossed the cell and dug her nails into the cracks, prying the stone free. There it was, just asshe’d left it—hidden, waiting. A small vial, almost innocuous, yet heavy with promise.
Madness. This was madness. She hesitated, heart pounding in her throat, a small voice in the back of her mind whispering for her to stop, to think.
With a quick breath, she popped the pill into her mouth
The Hunter had said death couldn’t touch her—not by his hand, at least. And gods help her, despite every instinct screaming to fight it, she wanted to believe him.
So, when her body jerked, when the first violent spasm tore through her like a wave of fire, forcing a scream so raw it burned her throat, she didn’t panic. When her limbs flailed, hitting the cold, hard floor of the cell, she didn’t surrender. Even when her vision blurred, the room spinning in a whirl of shadows, and she could feel the last threads of consciousness slipping away, she held on to that thread of trust.
The distant sound of boots clanging against stone, the cell door crashing open—it barely registered. Only then did she let herself go, sinking into that quiet dark, knowing with a strange certainty that she would wake where she needed to be.
The scent hit her first.A mix of herbs and spent ether, the air still humming with the electric tang of a freshly cast spell. Elara’s eyes fluttered open, her head pounding, and for a moment, the world was nothing but a blur of muted colors and muffled sounds.
She blinked again, forcing herself to focus. Slowly, the room came into view—the infirmary. Cold. Sterile.Empty.
She was lying on a cot, the thin, scratchy sheets twisted around her legs. Above her, a soft, glowing mist of a spell hungin the air, shimmering faintly. Her chest heaved, muscles locking as she braced for the familiar weight of ether to press down on her. But nothing.
Cautiously, she moved. Her body tensed, waiting for resistance, for the spell to pull her back—but it didn’t. Her hand lifted freely. She blinked, confused. It wasn’t binding her. Wasn’t holding her down.
Her pulse sped up, as her gaze flicked around the room again, just to be sure, her breath held tight in her lungs. But no one appeared. She was truly alone. Her blood roared like a current as she slid off the bed, bare feet soundless against the cold stone floor while she crept toward the door.
She paused, listening. No guards. No footsteps moving through the halls.
Where the hell is everyone?
Elara slipped down the tunnel, moving fast but keeping every step measured, ears on high alert for the slightest sound of movement. Her mind was locked on one thing—find the Sidhe, find Reynnar. The guard had said they were in the third tunnel, three down from where she was now. That was all she had to go on, and she wasn’t wasting time.
With each step, her confidence grew. The silence stretched on, uninterrupted, her movements quickening as she darted through the tunnel. No footsteps behind her, no guards in sight. Was it one of Osin’s debauched parties? Maybe the guards were off, getting pissed, their posts abandoned. The stillness around her felt too easy, too careless.
As she passed the spot where Rolfe had fallen, her eyes flickered to the rock she'd used, still lying there, stained with the memory of what she’d done. A flush crept up her face, shame and bitterness simmering beneath her skin.Anger—directed at herself, at the cruel circumstances she had never wished for. She never wanted to hurt anyone. Never wantedanyof this. But thiswas the hand she'd been dealt, and she had made what seemed the only reasonable choice at the time. At least, that was the justification she repeated to herself.
What shehadto believe.
Elara burst out of the sixth tunnel, barely catching her breath before sprinting toward the third. A commotion echoed from deep within the fortress, growing louder with each step. Panic clawed at her, the dread thick in her chest. She pushed harder, her bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor, the sound sharp in the still air, her pulse a deafening roar in her ears.
When she rounded the bend deep in the tunnel, the sight before her made her stomach drop. Lines of Sidhe stretched endlessly ahead, their figures hunched and broken. Ether shimmered in the air—spells of wind and earth weaving between them like chains, keeping them in line, corralling them like sheep.
Elara dropped into a crouch, pressing herself into the shadows, her breath shallow as she watched. A single, unbroken line, at least a hundred of them, all moving in the same slow, defeated march.
The faint hum of a spell, crackled through the air, but the guards’ voices were faint, far off. Too far ahead to be watching closely, trusting their ether to do the work for them.
Elara crept out, keeping her body close to the ground, every movement deliberate as she threaded her way through the shifting currents of ether. The earth pulsed beneath her feet, the ground rippling as if alive, while tendrils of wind curled through the tunnel like invisible hands, tugging at her clothes. She slipped between the threads of energy, careful not to disturb the current, her feet barely making a sound as she eased into the line of Sidhe. Every breath felt like a risk, her heart hammering in her chest.
The Sidhe in front of her shifted, a flicker of movement catching her eye. He glanced over his shoulder, his pale blue eyes locking onto hers. They were bright, almost unnervingly so, against the grim space around them. His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face before he leaned closer, his voice a low murmur."An mian leat an bás, a dhaonnaí bhig?16"
"Have you seen Reynnar?" Elara whispered, her voice barely audible, hoping—praying—he’d recognize the name.
The Sidhe’s brow shot up in surprise.“Na Tuatha? Is ea.17”He jerked his chin up the line. “An tríú grúpa, thart ar dheich gcloigeann suas.17”
Tuatha?
The word tugged at her memory. Where had she heard it before? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Elara leaned in, keeping her voice low. "Reynnar is up there? You're sure?"
The Sidhe gave a curt nod. “Is ea.18”
