“You’ve got two minutes. That’s about all we have left before my shift is over, and I don’t want to explain to the next guard why you’re in here. At least give me that.”
“Fair enough.”
Reluctantly, the guard closed the door, leaving Slaide alone at last with Hazel. But would she trust him enough to come out?
“Hazel?” He took a deep breath. “It’s Slaide. Can we talk?”
Silence.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know what to say about… about everything that happened. I truly had no idea. The truth is, if it isn’t already blatantly clear, Magus despises me. I have no idea why he keeps me around, despite my efforts to piss him off at every opportunity he gives me. I live to be a thorn in his side. I am an asshole. I am all the things everyone else says about me. But I am not a liar. I’ve never lied to you, and I will not hurt you.”
Something shifted in the corner, but he still could not see her.
“Listen, Hazel. We don’t have time for this. You can ignore me all you want, but I’m getting you out of here. I have mere minutes to discuss my plan. Please.”
“I thought you didn’t beg?”
Thank the fucking gods.He couldn’t help it, he smiled. “Gods, I love that smart mouth of yours; I thought you were going to give me the silent treatment until I had no choice but to leave.”
Hazel crept forward out of the shadows on her hands and knees. She was dirty and disheveled, her hair a matted mess and her face coated with dirt and blood.
“Don’t know how to stay out of trouble do you?”
“Is this a joke to you?” Her face was twisted with rage, tears welling in her eyes. She scooted further forward on her knees. She was in a tunic, shredded and dirty, looking and smelling as though it had been worn by one hundred or more people before her. “I said, is this a joke to you?” Her voice trembled, the voice of a woman about to break. And this was not the place for her to shatter. Not again.
His eyes landed on the onyx shackles around her wrists. Her skin was chapped and torn where she’d obviously been fighting to break herself free. Good. That meant she still had a will to get out. To live. It also meant she wouldn’t be able to explode as long as she wore them. Probably for the best.
“Slaide fucking Elias, answer me right now. Do you think this is all a big joke? My father is dead. He’s fucking dead! And for what? To protect Agnes? To protect me? And now look at us both! He died fornothing. Nothing!”
Slaide was not prepared for this conversation. Not right here, not right now. That guard would be back any minute.
He got down on his knees and grabbed the bars between them. “Listen, Hazel,” he pleaded softly, hoping that if he avoided pissing her off too much, she might listen. He had to get her out of this enraged state if he hoped to reason with her. “I know you’re in pain, physically and emotionally. We don’t have time for my traumatic backstory right now, so you’ll have to trust me when I say I get it. I’ve been here, in this exact cell. But no one came for me.”
She stared at him blankly, her eyes still threatening to overflow.
“I am here for you Hazel, but you have to let me help you. Hate me all you want, but love yourself enough to live. You owe yourself that. Hel, you owe your father and Agnes that much.”
“You said before you weren’t helping me, you were helping yourself. And you just told me you don’t lie. So which is it then?”
Fuck me and my stupid mouth.
He sighed.Well, no time like the present to really start being honest.“Both. Because when I dove headfirst into this, into you, I had an agenda, and you didn’t matter. I was going to do anything it took to keep you out of the Magistry’s hands, and not because I cared about you or your safety. I despise the mages as much as Magnus despises me. So, keeping you out of their reach was priority number one. And yes, with that I bargained for my freedom. I was desperate, and you were no one to me. Discovering what you were capable of, and whether or not you really were a witch, was priority two.
“But the thing is, Hazel, things change. Plans change. People change. All of this was before I knew who you were. Who you really are. I don’t have time to explain all of this to you right now because as I’m sure you heard, we have but a few moments until that shift change. But I swear to you, I will. Just help me get you out of here. I have a plan to?—”
The door groaned and swung inward, the first guard poking his head in.
“Time’s up. Let’s go.”
Slaide—master of storms and shadows and general calamity—began to panic internally. He leapt to his feet and stared wildly into Hazel’s glossy eyes. She was completely unreadable. “Agnes lives for now,” he whispered. “If you want to save her, get your shit together.”
“I said, let’s go.” He moved to grab Slaide’s forearm, and Slaide recoiled, a snake preparing to strike.
“Touch me, and it will be the last thing you do.”
The guard withdrew his hand and stepped aside to let Slaide pass. As he closed the warded iron door, Slaide peered past him into the cell, but Hazel had disappeared back into the shadows. The guard pocketed the wardstone, and they returned back where they’d come from.
When at last they reached the end of the dungeon hall, they were greeted by the shift change guards. A new guard to take the place of the retiree, and one to oversee the swap and make sure there were no hiccups and nothing was removed from the prison. Especially no keys, and certainly no wardstones.
