Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)

He closed his eye against the dust and nothingness, hoping he could just fade away in peace. But then a small scuffle from the hall made him look up again.

Footsteps. And they were growing louder, closer.

Finally, someone came to the door. All Felix could see was a pair of eyes, briefly glancing in at him through the window before they disappeared again.

He heard a key turn in the lock, and his whole body tensed. He waited, barely breathing, as the door squeaked open.

Afraid to look up, first he saw a pair of mud-crusted black boots. Leather trousers. A dirty, blood-spattered canvas tunic with ragged, crisscrossed ties.

The glint of a sharp sword.

Felix began to tremble as he forced his gaze upward. Dust filled the air and Felix’s eyes burned from it as he tried to focus on the shape of this intruder.

Familiar. He seemed . . . so familiar.

The young man silhouetted in the doorway wore an expression filled with horror. “Damn it. What the hell did they do to you?”

“I’m dreaming. A dream, that’s all this is. You’re not really here. You can’t be.” Felix leaned back against the wall. “Oh, how funny. A dream about an old friend, just before dying.”

The dream figure came to crouch in front of him. “This is what you get for trying to be one of the good guys, you arse,” he said.

“Apparently so.”

“Any regrets?”

“A million or two.” Felix blinked up at him. “Is it . . . is it really you?”

Jonas nodded. “It’s really me.”

Felix shook his head, still too afraid to believe this could be real. He felt something hot and wet on his cheeks. Tears. “How?”

“You’re not going to believe me, but you have Prince Magnus to thank for this. He and I are allies now. Sort of. He got your message, then sent me here to kill his father.”

“Now I know I’m dreaming. You’d never stoop so low as to help the prince.”

“A lot has changed since we saw each other last.” Jonas held out a small key and fiddled with the cuffs, finally easing them off Felix’s bloody wrists. “You think you can stand?”

“I can try.”

Jonas helped him to his feet, and Felix saw the shock on his face as he took in the sight of his missing eye. He swore. “You’ve been through hell.”

It hurt too much to laugh, but that was an understatement if ever Felix had heard one. “Yeah, to the darklands and back again. How did you find me here? Mikah’s revolutionaries planned to break some of their people out of here today?”

“Not exactly. They were sure you were already dead, but—I don’t know. I had this feeling you weren’t.”

“And this feeling was so strong that you risked busting into a Kraeshian prison to see if you were right?”

“Looks like it worked.”

“You came here to help me.” Felix stared at Jonas, and the tears began to fall again. “Damn it.”

“If that’s your way of saying thank you. . . .”

Another short, painful gasp of a laugh lurched out of Felix. “I should be begging for your forgiveness right about now.”

“No, I should be begging for yours,” Jonas said. “I’m sorry, Felix. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Felix drew in a ragged breath. “Let’s put it in the past where dark things belong. Right now, I need an enormous favor.”