The Oubliette’s door is solid stone, three feet thick, sealed with magic that prevents escape. The guards unlock it with a massive key, and the door swings inward to reveal darkness. Complete, absolute darkness.
I feel Zara start to shake through the bond. Claustrophobia. The darkness. The stone walls. Everything that terrifies her about being underground, concentrated into one nightmare space.
“Please.” I find my voice. “She’s claustrophobic. The darkness—it’ll destroy her. If you have any mercy?—”
“Mercy?” The guard captain—Kellan, who I fought beside for years—looks at me with something like pity. “You chose a Sky-dweller over your people, Blackwater. You get what mercy the tides provide.”
They shove us inside.
The door slams shut.
Darkness swallows us whole.
And somewhere far above, Caspian moves his forces toward the Great Stone Dam, preparing to drown the world while we slowly drown below.
Through the bond, I feel Zara’s panic starting to spike. Feel her breath coming in short gasps. Feel her fighting not to scream.
I find her in the darkness, pull her close, and hold on tight.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”
But I don’t know if that’s true anymore. Don’t know if anything I do will be enough to save her from this.
The water is already starting to rise. Slow. Inexorable. The tide coming in.
We have hours. Maybe less.
And then the choice becomes simple: drown, or watch each other die trying to survive.
I tighten my hold on Zara and feel the bond pulse between us—steady, strong, refusing to give up even as the world falls apart.
12
ZARA
The darkness is absolute. The water is rising. I’ve never been more terrified.
I can’t see. Can’t see my hands in front of my face, can’t see the walls I know are pressing in from every direction, can’t see the water that I feel climbing my calves with inexorable patience. The blackness is complete, crushing, alive with malevolence.
This is worse than the tunnels. Worse than the narrow passages. This is every nightmare I’ve ever had condensed into one stone coffin that smells of brine and old death.
My breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Too fast. Hyperventilating. I know this intellectually—the diplomat part of my brain that still functions recognizes panic attack symptoms. But knowing doesn’t help. Can’t help. Because the walls are closing in and the water is rising and I’m going to die here in the dark and?—
“Zara.”
Torin’s voice cuts through the spiral. Low. Steady. Close.
“I can’t—” The words choke off. “I can’t see. I can’t—the walls?—”
“I know.” His hands find my shoulders in the darkness, and I nearly sob with relief at the contact. “I’ve got you. I can see.”
“How?” My voice is barely recognizable, high and thin with fear.
“Deep Runner eyes. We’re built for darkness.” His thumbs stroke small circles on my shoulders, grounding me. “The cell is maybe ten feet across. Stone walls on all sides. One door—sealed. The water’s coming in through channels in the floor. Slow. We have time.”
“How much time?”
He’s quiet for a beat too long. “Enough.”
