I lash out, catching someone with a fist and feeling the satisfying give of flesh, but a blow to the back of my head turns the world white. Another lands on my ribs. Another on my spine.
I go down.
The stone is cold against my cheek. Boots fill my vision.
I stagger back as I take a blow to my temple, seeing stars behind my eyelids. Belen shouts something, but his words are muffled.
I hate feeling so weak. I wish I could use my magic.
My time will come, I think to myself as I cough up blood.
5
Isla
I’m finally dozing off when I’m yanked upright. My eyes fly open as my body leaves the floor.
“Wake up,” a guard barks. “You’re wanted for questioning.”
Now?
“It’s the middle of the night,” I mutter.
“Come along,” he growls.
I didn’t sleep well last night. My ordeal has left me exhausted. I’m not in any shape to be questioned, but I nod anyway. It’s not like I have much say in the matter.
I grab for the thin blanket at my feet, wrapping it around my shoulders, wishing I were wearing something a little more substantial than my costume.
The cell floor is cold and damp beneath my bare feet. My silk shoes are still somewhere in the performance tent where they fell off when the guards grabbed me.
“Where are you taking me?”
The guard doesn’t answer. He just takes my arm and drags me out of the cell. Another guard falls into step behind us.
The dungeon corridors are narrow and dark, lit only by torches that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. The air smells of mildew and excrement. I try not to think about it. I’m suddenly grateful that I haven’t eaten in a while.
We climb a set of stairs, then another. The air turns less oppressive. We’re moving up into the castle proper.
Finally, we stop outside a door. One of the guards knocks twice.
“Enter,” comes a voice from within.
The door swings open, and I’m pushed inside.
The room is small, with a desk in the center and two chairs – one on either side of the table. Candles burn on all the walls. After the darkness of my cell, it’s almost blinding.
A fae man stands behind the desk. He’s wearing the formal uniform of the Shadow Court, complete with black and silver trim. His dark hair is slicked back, and his face is clean-shaven. Some might call him handsome.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of the desk. His voice is smooth.
I hesitate. The guards behind me give me a small shove forward, so I sit.
The fae sits across from me, folding his hands on the desk. He studies me for a while, his dark eyes moving over my face.
I’m about to be interrogated, and I can’t wait.
“My name is Lord Corvius,” he says finally. “I’m Head Captain of the Shadow Guard. What is your name?”
