Prologue
Sameen
The walls around her shook, and the magic that trapped her in her own body, that stopped her from moving, blinking, even breathing fell away.
She drew her shoulders inward, the pain of movement after so long bringing tears to eyes that could no longer see. Fear chilled her skin, and she rocked back and forth as best she could within the confines of the chains and the tiny stone prison that had been her home for as long as she could remember.
What was happening? The Thirteen hadn’t brought the power of Earth—or any other element—to her in a very long time. So long she thought it might even have been years.
And now...she could sense it. Taste it.
There was air too. Fire. Water. They called to the fragments of the elements she carried deep inside her broken body from all the times her tormentors had tried—and failed—to turn her into their weapon.
Oh, no. Please no.
If they had all four...they would again channel them into her, bind them to her until the elements themselves broke free, tearing her apart and sending her to the brink of death. Or…close enough that she’d pray for its cold, quiet embrace to take her.
Only to have Celia—the coven leader—yank her away from the abyss shattered and broken, then blame her for a failure she knew was not hers to bear.
A low, hoarse whine—the only sound she was capable of making—filled her stone prison, and though it was pitch dark—had been for almost her entire existence as their precious conduit—she squeezed her eyes shut anyway.
Just let me die. Take me. End this existence so my soul can be free.
A chunk of rock slammed into her shoulder. She welcomed the pain, praying the next one would hit her head. Her neck. Damage her in a way that could not be repaired.
The chains rattled, her wrists bound to one another over her head. Her ankles, too, were secured, the thick cuffs attached to a ring in the floor she sometimes felt with her bare toes on the rare occasions she was allowed to move at all.
The earthquake worsened, and she tipped her head up, waiting for the next stone to fall.
But the only thing that fell? Her hands. The chain had worked its way free from the stone behind her, hitting her across the nose with a sickening crack. Blood streamed over her upper lip, and she whimpered again, her shoulders protesting the sudden, violent movement of arms that had so infrequently been allowed the freedom to do so.
Bright light seared her eyes, even through her shuttered lids, and warmth hit her cheeks. Was that...sun?
The prospect of freedom had been so far from her grasp ever since the Thirteen had taken her, she’d forgotten how much she’d loved the sun. Forgotten it even existed.
The stone floor under her naked body buckled, and one foot flopped to the side. It took all Sameen had to reach her tingling hands—she didn’t remember a time they hadn’t been numb—forward, and after another few seconds, she found the ring. The rocks had released one end of it. If she tried...if she had the strength...she could free both ankles, and then she couldmove.
The stench of burnt flesh filled her nose, and she retched. Not that she had anything in her stomach. The Thirteen had slowed all of her bodily functions to the minimum ages ago. She rarely ate or drank, didn’t remember the last time she’d slept, and there was something else...something she knew she’d once had to do. Oh. Yes. But that came after eating and drinking, so it was no wonder she’d forgotten it all.
Her other foot slid free, and though both ankles still bore the heavy iron cuffs and her wrists were still connected by a short chain, she was freer than she’d been since they’d taken her so long ago.
Sameen fell over and rolled onto her stomach. She couldn’t see. Years of being unable to blink had scarred her eyes to the point even light and dark were hard to discern. But she could feel. And if she concentrated, she could wriggle forward a few inches at a time.
Jagged rocks—some as small as pebbles and others almost boulders—slowed her, cut into her stomach, her breasts, her thighs, but she didn’t care. Something had gone horribly wrong above ground, and only two options presented themselves to her.
She could stay in her tiny stone cell with the walls shaking around her and wait for one of the Thirteen to retrieve her—assuming she survived. Or she could try to escape. The punishment would be excruciating if she were caught. But she’d suffered excruciating before. Time and time again, and risking another go on the rack where their magic made her feel like her body was being torn apart joint by joint? Where her skin burned and fell off in sheets, where each hair was yanked out one-by-one, each finger snapped, each tooth forcefully extracted...all to have that same magic then put her back together so they could start on her anew?
That was a risk she had to take.
She marked her progress by the amount of sunlight hitting her bare skin. First, it was just her cheeks. Then her neck. Then her shoulders. By the time her toes were bathed in the sun’s warmth, she was so tired, she didn’t think she could go on.
Another great quake tossed her body into the air, and she landed somewhere...else. On a carpet of moss and leaves, with the scent of the forest all around her. She remembered trees. Grass. The outdoors.
From a distance, she heard screaming and she curled into a ball.
Hide.
But where? She couldn’t see, had almost no strength left, and she didn’t even know what she was hiding from. Were those screams from the Thirteen? Or others who’d come to destroy them?
