“That’s not?—”
“Fair?” He smiles again. “It seems fair to me.”
Rising from his chair, he strides past me toward the entrance, and then he’s gone.
I stay rooted to the spot. My arm is throbbing where the bandage has come loose. The collar around my throat is cool, moving with every breath I take.
I can’t stay here. I have to get out.
I lift my head and look around. The … tent? … is larger than I thought. Furs cover most of the floor, layered in thick shades of white and gray. There’s not much in here. Just a chair, table and the platform where I woke up.
I step toward the entrance. The collar warms against my throat. When I step back, it cools again. Taking a deep breath, I hurl myself toward the entrance. Heat flares at my neck, and the collar tightens. My hand is inches from the door?—
I can’t breathe.
I stumble backward, and the pressure releases.
A second test results in the same. He wasn’t lying. I can’t leave.
I back away. My shins hit the platform, and I sink onto the furs, shuffling backward until I’m leaning against the slight rise at one end. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them.
Has anyone even noticed my absence yet? Nella? My father? I have no idea what time it is. I don’t know how long I was unconscious for. There’s no way it was a normal sleep. I’d have woken up when he moved me.
I don’t know where this camp is, or how far from the palace we are. I don’t know why Cairn hasn’t just killed me. I don’t knowanything, except that I’m trapped, alone, and wearing a collar around my neck like the fae did … Likehedid, before he broke it.
The irony isn’t lost on me. I walked past those cages. I looked at them in their iron collars. I saw their broken spirits, and I felt sick but I did nothing. I walked away. I went back to my home, my comfortable life.
And nowI’mthe one who’s been caged.
I need to find a way out of this. Ihaveto.
TWENTY-SIX
CAIRN
Caelum is lyingon the furs in the shelter I set aside for him. He’s breathing, eyes open and glassy. Nothing more than a body going through the motions of survival while whoever lived inside it has retreated somewhere none of us can reach.
I crouch beside him. “Caelum?”
Nothing.
His arms rest either side of his body, fingers slightly curled. He used to talk with his hands, sharp gestures that cut through the air when he argued … which was often. He had opinions about everything and the stubbornness to defend them against anyone, including me.
“I don’t know if you can hear me.” I keep my voice low and steady. “But I’m going to keep coming back until you can. I’m not going to give up on you.”
His chest rises and falls. He continues to stare upwards. He gives me no response at all.
I settle into a more comfortable position and talk to him for a while. I tell him about the camp, the weather, and a hawk I saw circling the hollow as I walked to his shelter. I fill the silencebecause maybe hearing my voice will help him find his way back. Maybe it won’t. But I’m going to keep trying until I know for certain one way or another.
There’s a soft rustle behind me, and I turn my head just as a female walks in, carrying a bowl and cloth. She freezes when she sees me, eyes dropping to the floor.
“I was coming to feed him,” she whispers. “I can come back.”
“No. Stay.” I rise. “Has he reacted to anything at all?”
“No. I’m sorry.” She moves toward Caleum, careful to keep distance between me and her. I recognize the signs of someone who was used for the same things I was. “He takes a little broth, though.” She lowers herself to her knees on the opposite side to me.
I get to my feet slowly, not wanting to startle her. “Please let Vel know if anything changes.” She will be more comfortable speaking to her over me.
