Luckily, when Rholker came into my cage after I awoke, my Fuegorra provided a new protection for me. How long that will last, I cannot say.
Rholker has the power to change his mind quickly.
He controls my food, my future, and my light.
This room is dark like I thought the Enduar Mountains would be—cold, and without even a sliver of heat to warm my cage. No mushrooms light the crags of the space, nor does the Ardorflame guide the way back out of the abyss in my mind.
I sit on the ground, atop smelly furs and straw, and think of things I could say, ways to slip through the bars, or, better yet, manipulate them. If only I were a metal bender, or, better yet, had worked with the smiths instead of Ulla.
The floor is uneven and catches along the calluses on my hands. A new idea blooms. My magic is too unpredictable, like a lyre string stretching and snapping when I’m in danger. But if I could make a weapon, I could kill him and run.
No guards come with him to my cell. It would be the perfect plan.
Tearing at the ground, I peel a long splinter from the boards. I do my best to sharpen it against the metal bars in the dark.
When the door cracks open again, I leap back and hide themakeshift tool behind my back as I see the large shadow in the doorframe. My heart stutters in rage and grief to see Rholker. His long hair is tied up atop his head, and a new crown is resting on his brow.
The traitorous king takes one purposeful step into the room and stops to strike a match. A sharp hiss heralds the warm yellow flame between his stout fingers. His cruel eyes and powerful form are lit up as he guides the small pulses of light into a glass lamp.
The oil catches the spark and blazes to life. My gaze dips for a second to look at the letters I’ve left on the ground.
A S E R O M.
Nothing of use, but I am missing thirty-four letters. I scrape my barefoot across the Enduar markings so he won’t see.
My eyes return to Rholker, only to find a trail of six women behind him. They are hidden under dark cloaks with long, flowing sleeves that cover their hands and long hems with short trains that obscure their feet.
Rholker smirks. “Estela,” he says, drawing out the word as if he were savoring the syllables the same way he’d like to savor my flesh. The oil lamp is held up closer to his face, and I see his ugly, scarred smile stretch upward. A few of the puckered lines are new—still red. I wonder where he got them.
“Thank our guests for traveling all night to see you.”
I press my lips together in defiance. Then I brace myself to accept whatever punishment he has planned for me today with these women.
Rholker takes another step forward and moves to light a fire as the six women line the space beside him.
“This is the daughter of Aitana?” one woman asks. Her accent is deep and guttural, not at all like the soft notes that come from my human tongue.And she knows my mother’s name.
Rholker grunts his approval.
One of the women makes a sound so inhuman that I find myself inching toward the back of my cage. Presumably, the same woman holds up her arm, bringing the sizable billowing sleeve with her, and a long, pointed fingernail peeks out from beneath the black-stitched hem. My mouth falls open when something slithers to the point of her digit.
A snake.
Its lithe, forked tongue darts out.
“If Mistress Dahlia ssspeaks, you will ressspond,” it hisses. The voice echoes in my mind, rattling around at the base of my skull and making my shoulders inch upward. I file the name away.
Dahlia.
Rholker raises his chin, puffing out his chest as he turns to the women. My grip on the splinter tightens.
“You are in my court now, and I have something you want. Do not think that since I have given you honors my father withheld that I am one of your thralls,” he spits at them.
One of the women makes a disgusted sound, but the one called Dahlia cocks her hooded head to the side as her companion speaks.
“Do not forget that we are not the sole benefactors of this deal. We came to provide a service for you?—”
Dahlia cuts her follower off. “Very well, Young Rholker. I would like to begin.”
