Vylkor’s body had been shoved aside carelessly by the jail door.
His eye was open, no hint of shock or fear frozen in it.
Only acceptance.
A sickly green foam spilled from his lips, dark, mossy veins spidering all over his face.
Ryker crouched next to him, muttered prayers on his lips as he asked the ancestors to receive Vylkor’s soul and treat him like the true warrior he was.
I pressed my hand against my mouth to keep both my gasps and curses contained.
Vylkor, who’d followed rules even when they’d cut at his own pride. Who’d kept his humanity and principles and had brought Nadya water even after everything she’d done.
She’d murdered him for it.
One more name on her bloody list.
One more soul she hadn’t cared to spare.
She was truly and utterly gone.
“Same poison used at the wedding.” Dax curled his top lip, staring at the warrior who’d saved his life. “How did that conniving pest even contain it on her?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Ryker murmured and leaned forward, lips only a breath away from Vylkor’s forehead.
My heart pattered at seeing him so close to the same sickly poison that had surrounded my father and I so many moons ago.
“Fare well, Brother,” he whispered and kissed Vylkor’s forehead, closing his eyes. I felt the unshed tears constricting his throat.
Ryker righted himself, face sharpened by so much grief, I wondered how he could still breathe without losing his mind. He closed Vylkor’s eye and hung his head for the barest moment, shoulders shaking.
At first, I thought he’d break.
He didn’t.
He shook with rage.
He jumped up to his feet, eyes sparking lethally as he took in the entire dungeon, an endless, cold labyrinth filled with bars and empty cells, where nothing but screams could keep you company.
“She couldn’t have gone far.” I looked up the jagged, narrow steps. “Dax should have bumped into her upstairs.”
“I didn’t see her,” Dax growled, not taking his hard eyes away from Vylkor.
“Someone would have if she’d gone up. Too risky.” Ryker narrowed his eyes around us. He crouched low on the ground, looking at the stones in the flickering lights of the sconces. He crawled forward, not breathing.
I followed, trying to see through his eyes. Then I noticed them–vague and hazy.
Steps in the dust gathered on the floor.
They stopped at a closed jail door Ryker screeched open with a single finger.
His face turned to the small window, crossed by strong bars.
No human could have squeezed through there.
Not a normal one, at least.
He ran his finger along the edge of the window. Crumbs of rock fell at his feet, thudding in the silence.
