Aelia found herself grateful her stomach was empty after her experience of the sewers as she contemplated spending even a few nights in one of these cells, trapped in the unforgiving rock, behind metal doors thick enough to contain a god.
Shiva strode past the few guards they did see without seeming to bat an eyelid, and she forced herself to emulate his confidence, to walk as though she had every right to be there.
And yet, everything about this place felt wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Keeran leant back on the chair, taking the pressure off his shoulders. His arms were pinned painfully behind him, the frame of the chair cutting into his bicep, and his shoulders felt like they might pull free of their sockets if he kept straining. The chains that bound him to the floor were inescapable, reinforced to be able to restrain even a Dragon but, after a little wiggling, he’d discovered that the chair had a weak spot. He tested it once more, feeling it creak beneath him and smiled. If he could break it, he could stand, and if he could stand…
Maybe he’d be able to get one of those guards around the neck, show them just how unbreakable those chains were. It was the only happy thought he’d had since he’d woken up down here.
Keeran had known where he was the moment he’d opened his eyes. The cells beneath Llmera were infamous, the only prison capable of holding a Dragon. And if Beserkir had drugged him to bring him here rather than the commoner’s prison at the top of the mountain, that meant he knew what he was.
That older Dog must have recognised his scent the moment he walked into the room. The city had been full of it just a couple of decades ago, he’d been lucky someone else hadn’t picked itup sooner. He’d been such a fool to come into the city, but what choice had he had?
After that, everything had gotten a little boring. The guards had asked him a few questions, and he’d relinquished the basics, sprinkling lies amongst the truth like dust on mud, indistinguishable. They had his name, Keeran Draconian-Fafnirean, and that would tell them everything they needed to know: what lineage he was from, his military record, his kill count in the war. The only thing they couldn’t know was his pyrokinetic ability; that he’d learnt after he’d been exiled. Keeran would be damned if he gave Beserkir any more information about himself than that.
Keeran had to hand it to him, Beserkir had kept his cool for a man finding himself face-to-face with the only Dragon to have set foot in the Inner City since their banishment. That was twice he’d got one up on Keeran. It would not happen a third time.
He strained towards the hole where the pair bond ought to be and felt nothing. He pried at it, willing to feel something, anything, that would reassure him that Aelia was alright, but the bastard thing stayed dormant. If they’d accepted it, it would be a constant in his mind, as reliable as the rising sun. But they hadn’t, and so he was left waiting in the dark.
The monster raged at the back of his skull, ferociously demanding control. Keeran could feel the murderous desire coursing through it and into him. The utter wrath that these mortals would dare imprison him, that they would stoop to drugging him as they’d drugged his comrades all those years ago, was almost too much to bear. The beast battered at Keeran’s defences, wanting to blast their way out of here and drown the city in blood.
Because that was the one thing the cells couldn’t contain. No pyrokinetic could be stopped by mortal means; it took magic to restrain magic. Keeran could melt the chains should he want to;it would be bloody painful, but he’d heal quickly enough. Then the next time a guard dared enter, he’d open the door to a firestorm the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since Khaled had raged his way across the battlefield all those years ago.
But Aelia was probably still in the city.
The beast in him snapped its jaws shut and growled, low in its belly. Its slitted eyes narrowed as it reined in its bloodlust. Keeran sighed at the quiet, as his emotions became his own once more.
They couldn’t break free if she wasn’t out. He couldn’t leave knowing she might still be here, being hunted down like a criminal.
What if they’d already caught her?
Keeran dropped his head back against the chair and pressed his eyes shut, trying again to feel something down the fragments of the pair bond. If he could just get a glimpse, he’d know what to do.
Very little sound reached him through the thick metal. So, he had no warning when the door opened and Beserkir stepped into the room. Not that Keeran was surprised; if anything, he’d been expecting him sooner.
Keeran smiled, an ancient evil looking out from his eyes as the beast inside him roared for revenge, for this creature who’ddaredto drug him to be punished. Keeran flicked open the lid in the corner of his mind in which his fire magic lay curled and waiting, rearing its head and quivering as it waited for his instruction.
Now that he had eyes on Beserkir, his decision became that much easier. If he had to burn the city to the ground to find Aelia, to keep this man from getting his hands on her, he’d do so without a moment’s hesitation.
Beserkir spoke from the doorway, a folder held loosely by his side. “Now, before you do anything reckless like squash us bothinto the rock, I’d like to caution you that doing so would mean the imminent death of your dear little friend.”
The fire magic sizzled and died, the lid slamming shut on top of it.
No.
Beserkir stepped into the room, making a show of inspecting every corner of the dingy space, raking his eyes over the uneven surface of the crudely chiselled walls. The door grated shut behind him with a resoundingthunk.
“Well now, I imagine this is a little different to the quality you were used to in the Inner City before the Dragons fell.” Beserkir sniffed, slowly pacing the perimeter of the cell. “I do regret not being able to offer you something a little more comfortable, but we are all so terribly concerned you might take it upon yourself to raze our little city to the ground.”
Beserkir disappeared behind Keeran and came close enough to test the chains that bound Keeran’s arms behind his back, secured to not just the chair but to a huge iron ring embedded in the floor itself.
“It seems we have that little eventuality under control now, though. So, there are some things I wish to discuss with you.”
“Where is she?” Keeran kept his face expressionless, his tone bored. Only he knew the battle that raged inside him, the beast thrashing and writhing at the thought of this monster capturing Aelia.
“Oh, she’s safe. I can’t promise she’ll stay that way, though. That all depends on your cooperation.” Beserkir came back into view, choosing to stand dangerously close to Keeran. He leant in to pick a piece of fluff from Keeran’s shoulder, dropping it to the floor with a satisfied smile. Keeran fought back the snarl that threatened to tear out of him.
