I listen, but I don’t hear them. The silence drags on, and my heart sinks. Did Corvin execute her?
My muscles tighten, preparing for a fight, and my nerves itch to pounce on Corvin, to exact revenge for a sin that I’m not sure he’s committed yet. Perhaps he’s just questioning her …
A howl echoes from the direction Corvin took Sable. I freeze, confused. Panthers don’t howl. They roar. What is going on? The guards stationed near our cells trot off in the direction of the strange sound.
With my broken arm hanging limp at my side, I crawl closer to the door of my cell, craning my neck to try to see around the corner. It’s stupid, I know; if Corvin took her to the same place he took me, they’re too far down the maze of halls for me to see anything. Still, I look. I look, I listen, and I wait. The faint whiff of singed flesh drifts to my nose, and for a moment I have hope. Did he take off Sable’s chains, allowing her to use her Suntouched gifts? It would be foolish of him to do so, but then again, Corvin is a fool.
Shouts, then screams, then silence.
Hugh’s chains rattle, and he appears on the other side of the cell wall. “Do you think she got them?” he asks. I’d answer, but my voice is caught in my throat.
Boot heels thunder further down the hall, at least half a dozen men by the sound of it. Seconds tick past. More shouts, then the sound of blows landing. I strain to hear if any of the shouts are Sable’s. Was that her voice just now?
My answer comes moments later when a horde of guards appears with Sable in tow. The bolt in her shoulder has been ripped out, causing a fresh flow of blood, and from the looks of it, she put up a fight. Her face is bruised, with one eye starting to swell shut, and her fingernails have blood and bits of flesh under them. Several of the guards bear deep scratches on their faces.
Good girl, Sable, I think to myself. Make them work for it.
Behind the guards, a horrific sight appears.
Corvin’s face—what’s left of it—bears a gruesome scowl, and his bare chest seeps blood from several smoking claw wounds. He’s been burned from the chest up, and the raw, charred flesh sizzles.
Sable burned him, but she wasn’t able to kill him.
“Lock her up,” he snarls. “Use extra chains. I don’t want her able to move a Goddamn muscle.”
The biggest guard holding Sable answers. “Why don’t we just kill her, General?”
Corvin lets loose with such a fierce growl that the other guards all shrink back. “I said to lock her up! Are you questioning my orders?”
They scurry to lock her back up and toss her back in her cell, and she cries out as she lands on her wounded shoulder. Several of the guards take the opportunity to kick her while she’s bound, their boots landing on the soft tissue of her stomach with sickthuds.
My instinct, my first thought, is to go to her. To make sure she’s okay. The chains and bars prevent that, though, and if I react too strongly now, with the guards still present, they’ll suspect something. Better to pretend that I still don’t care, that I’m still angry with her.
Better to pretend my heart didn’t surge with relief at seeing her alive.
I don’t quite understand the way I feel. By all rights, I shouldn’t be able to stand the sight of her. Everything I've been taught my entire life indicates that Sable, as a panther, is the enemy. My job is to protect my people from her kind. Or at least it was my job before the Elders had me imprisoned.
They haven't shown their faces down here yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren't getting regular reports from the guards. They’re especially likely to show up now that Corvin’s been attacked. Kryos will want revenge for what happened to his grandson. If I recall, he’s the last of Kryos’s line. Even if Corvin deigns to keep her alive for now, he'll want to come down here to exact that revenge personally. Assaulting his only heir more than warrants Kryos’s direct attention.
Apparently it takes some time for news to travel up to the Elders’ Chambers. Nearly an hour goes by before a red-faced Kryos appears at the door to Sable’s cell. I note that Bram accompanies him as his guard, though I don’t know if I can trust the letter that I received from the general. If he’s truly on my side, how could he allow things to go this far? Wouldn’t he have stopped this coup if he could?
While I debate on whether to trust Bram, Kryos rages at the unconscious Sable. She passed out moments after the guards deposited her there, and she hasn’t woken yet.
“You filthy beast! You dare to burn my only grandson? I should have you executed on the spot!”
Bram’s eyes meet mine over Kryos’s head, and he shoots me a questioning glance. He seems to be wanting some kind of signal, though what I don’t know. How can I signal anything with Kryos right there?
Then I catch a glint of light reflecting off Bram’s knife at his side, an angle that appears hidden from view by the Elder.
Would he really kill Kryos for me?
No … that can’t be what he's asking me to signal. It would be suicide to kill Kryos here; he’d never make it out of the dungeons, let alone the palace proper. Then Bram nods, a small, subtle gesture, and I realize that he means to end this one way or another—even at the cost of his own life. He seems to have interpreted something I’ve done as his awaited signal.
Before I can try to undo this, Bram turns to Kryos and whispers in his ear.
“You know, Kryos, she couldn’t have harmed Corvin if our Suntouched hadn’t brought her here.”
Kryos freezes and stops mid-rant.
