The king chuckled. “Oh, I know. Leif must be very disappointed that after twenty years of searching, hisRed Shadehas accomplished nothing but shame.”
Rawn clenched his jaw.
“Nonetheless, you do knowwherethe dragon blades are. As it happens, so do I.”
He wasn’t lying.
It was clear in the steady beat of Altham’s heart. Nor could he contain the triumph from surfacing on his face. “We have long known they were hidden on Mount Ida. What I need isaccessto them.”
Rawn frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Altham sighed boredly. “Already falling on lies?”
“I do not lie.”
“Oh, but you do.” Altham strode for the brazier and lifted the iron poker. The end glowed molten red, glinting against his eyes. “It is in your favor to end this quickly by simply telling me what I want to know.” Returning, he held the poker, close enough to Rawn’s cheek to feel its scorching heat, and he flinched back. “Where did you hide it?”
“I do not know what you speak of!”
All amusement faded from the red king’s face. He handed the poker to Grod. “You lie so cleanly I almost believe you,” he said, his tone cooling. “Yet I know you were in Xián Jing for years, studying the history of the blades and how they were locked away, for my son nearly caught you there when you droppedthis.” From his pocket, Altham drew out anelaborate knot made of bronze metal, bluntly cut off at the end. “Where is the rest of the key?”
“Key?” Rawn stared at it. The metal piece did look like the top of a key, but it was missing the bit of teeth on the end. “I have never seen that before.”
“Cease to play me for the fool. I know you found the bit ten years ago. Where is it now?”
Rawn shook his head. “As I said, I never found a key.”
The only thing his studies in Xián Jing had produced was discovering where the blades were hidden.
Sighing, the red king tucked the broken key away and crossed his arms behind his back. “I see you will be difficult after all.”
Grod jammed the iron poker into Rawn’s stomach, and it hissed against his skin. He jerked back with a cry. The pain sent a flash of white behind his eyes, and he had to breathe sharply through his nose.
“Tell me where,” the red king said again in a flat tone.
“I do not—” Rawn cut off when the iron poker seared against his thigh. He clenched his jaw. Whatever torture he endured, he refused to make a sound.
Bracing, he prayed to the God of Urn to give him strength before his feet were burned next. He violently shook, his teeth grinding so tight his face went numb. The scent of cooking flesh wafted in the cell. It made his stomach roll.
Regardless of whether he knew anything about a key, nothing would have changed. He would never betray his country. To betray Leif was to betray Aerina.
Closing his wet eyes, Rawn pictured the rolling green knolls of Sellav and the sweet scent of the crimson blooms on the fields. He pictured the path of his estate and his wife waiting at the gate holding their son. She waved at him, her smile as bright as any sun.
But the fire came again.
And again.
It blistered his flesh, striking him to the bone.
Rawn’s resolve broke, and screams tore from his throat. They echoed through the dungeon until he couldn’t scream anymore.
CHAPTER 58
Lucenna
It was hardly midday, and Lucenna was already restless. She shifted on the velvet green bench that did little in the way of comfort. After being cooped up in the carriage for three days, she would rather ride a horse than spend another moment inside.
Lucenna hardly listened to Aerina’s story as she recounted how she and Lord Norrlen fell in love. She was busy watching Dyna.
