The air tastes stale, and even our footsteps are swallowed by the dark. When we finally reach the bottom, Lilanthara opens an old wooden door that opens into a hallway lined with doors. Some are normal-sized, but others are barely big enough for a dog. The corridor stretches on past the orb’s glow, the end swallowed by the dark void.
The hair on my arms stands on end as I stare down into the silent abyss – until a garbled static whisper breaks out, right behind my ear.
I almost scream, jumping at least half a foot before whirling around to look at Nymara. I assumed she made the sound, but she’s still staring at the ground.
She’s really committed to this whole ‘if I can’t see you, maybe you can’t see me’ bit.
Lilanthara continues into the corridor, giving no hint that she heard a thing. I follow, now even more worried.
I’m losing it.
I’m saved from wondering how much sanity I have left to lose when Lilanthara stops in front of one of the smaller doors.
My focus snaps back to the topic at hand. Right – torture and impending doom.
A whimper crawls up my throat as I finally piece together what she’s planning.
Lilanthara’s smile twists even further, warped by the golden glow of the orb that’s pressed to her chest. “The Council has undergone so many improvements over the centuries, and yet, they love to keep the older artifacts around. Perhaps it’s nostalgia. For example,” she holds out her free arm and does a small twirl, her skirts swishing against the damp stone walls. “This was once part of the prisons. They’ve since expanded and moved to a different part of the castle, of course. Now, this entire area is unused. Why, most people have forgotten it even exists. It’s a waste, really.”
She unlatches the small door’s deadbolt and swings it open. The orb illuminates the space just enough for me to see it’s no bigger than a small cabinet.
My eyes widen, and my legs start to lock up. Going in there is a one-way ticket to a panic attack.
No, thank you.
She takes in the slight change in my expression, and her pink eyes gleam.
“Get in,” she orders.
“Please, don’t,” I beg, even as I start to crawl inside.
When I’m halfway in, I pause, realizing this is enough to satisfy the order. The pause is all my body needs for the fear paralysis to take over.
“Well that just won’t do. Get all the way in.” Her heel shoves me, even as my body follows her order. The moment I’m inside, she slams the door, and there’s a metallic scrape as the deadbolt slides into place.
I twist in the tiny space, my shoulder scraping against stone. It’s too cramped to turn fully, and my legs are pinned at an awkward angle.
My breaths start coming in shallow and fast, but I don’t miss Lilanthara’s hiss, “Open this door before the sun has set, and you will wish you were never born.”
She must be talking to Nymara.
“Oh… and Vivian?” She adds, almost as an afterthought. “Go ahead and scream as much as your heart desires. The prisons were built to hold in the sound. No one is going to hear you.”
I’m hyperventilating now, and I barely catch the end of her words. The darkness inside the tiny closet is only eased by the slightest crack above the door, and between my rapid breaths, I realize the light is gettingfainter. Holding my breath, I strain to hear anything beyond my own panic.
“Have a blessed day, Vivian, and welcome to the family,” Lilanthara calls.
And then, everything goes pitch black.
Chapter 14
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule fourteen:When speaking with potential allies, try not to give them second-hand embarrassment.
I’m stuck.
The walls are pressing in on me, and there isn’t enough air.
