STERILE. MILDEW. WHITE. THAT’S what surrounds me in my new accommodations.
Betrayed. Lost. Alone. Those are the words haunting me.
The damp and cold cot mattress reminds me of the one in the Otherworld dungeon. The underground caverns where the contenders were kept. Except for one maddening difference: the absence of Caben’s body heat. The lack of his masculine scent, and his arm cradled around me at night.
I know I shouldn’t allow my thoughts to roam here, not with everything else I’m facing. But I can’t stop them. Smells and textures; they’re what memories are made of. And if nothing else, those few comforting memories are what keep me from lashing out and attacking the bars of my cell.
The feel of Caben’s lips pressing to mine sweeps over my senses, and I hate that our last, shared kiss was one of lust, fueled by vengeance and fear. Unlike any other we’ve shared, it wasn’t reminiscent of trust, devotion, love. Everything we were and might have been.
Caben.
His time is up. I’ve done nothing to help. Haven’t kept my vow. I’ve already paced this cell until the muscles of my legs ache. Ripped at my tangled black hair until my fingers throb instead of my scalp.
I have no answers.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I press my back against the stone wall, sinking farther into the lumpy cot. Although I still have Caben’s ring linked around my neck, and I cling to it, seeking comfort, I’ve been relieved of my sword, transmitter, dagger, and my most important item—my dignity.
My Nactue betrayed me. That wound digs in deep, past blood and bone and bonds. Regardless of understanding that they had no choice, it still stings. They weren’t just assigned members of a faction. We forged something much deeper and genuine in the bowels of the earth. We’ve shed blood together. We’re tied together. And, Lilly is my family.
But, I’m not sure what I’d have done differently had I’d been the one given the command to arrest one of them. Lilly? No. I’ve already proven I’m a rebel; gone against orders in the past to return for those I care for. But Lena? Hell. I’m no saint.
And I’m far from divine despite what my mother or the empress claim.
Thoughts like these get me nowhere, though. I’ve already tried to bend the bars. Thinking, surely, my “gifted” strength would be enough. But evidently they planned ahead. Reinforced steel.
I’ve thought about reasoning with the cams. Whoever is watching, listening, might have a weakness. The Perinyians regard women differently than Cavan. Maybe if I cry or act wounded someone will come check on me, and I can… What? Attack them?
All right. It might be a worthwhile plan, but I’m not shrinking to their level. If not my dignity, I at least have my honor as a Nactue. As a woman.
Tapping my back against the wall as I rock, I go over everything. Everything that I missed, because obviously, there is something I’ve neglected.
“Can you hear them?”
My head jerks up. Across the brightly lit, bleached-out holding room, I can make out a woman. Her long brown hair reaches toward her back as she leans against her cell bars. “Uh, no. And I didn’t hear you,” I say hesitantly. I didn’t see her, either. I haven’t spoken any of my thoughts aloud, luckily, but she’s been watching.
A black-tinted glass wall holding a monitor stands between us. The monitor is off, but the large screen obscures my view of her cell. It’s unlike me not to take my surroundings into account. And this proves I’m becoming unhinged.
Slowly wrapping her hair into a messy bun atop her head, she begins to stand. Then I see her wardrobe; neutral-colored robe, matching garments beneath. When she faces me fully, my mouth tightens into a hard line. Councilor Teagan.
“I wasn’t trying to fool you,” she says, waving a hand around to indicate the holding room. “I just wanted to give you time.”
“All right,” I say, standing to move closer to her. I grasp the bars. “You have my attention now.” I want so badly to demand answers from her. She’s been the catalyst from the beginning, the traitor. The reason, ultimately, why Caben is housing a mad goddess and I’m in this cell.
Forget demanding answers—I want to ram my fist into her pious face.
Her weak smile infuriates me further. “If you close your eyes and listen, listen hard, I’m sure you’ll hear them.”
Apparently, I’ll get nowhere with this woman until I give her what she wants. I do so, squeezing my eyelids tightly, and listen. The loud thumping of my heart, my rising anger, booms in my ears.
But slowly, as I calm my breathing, quiet the firing mercury, the sounds from outside the palace trickle into my ears. It’s the same ruckus I heard in Julian’s chambers. The gathering crowd. Frightened and fearful Perinyians chanting, asking for retribution.
I open my eyes. “They’re just scared. The raid on the palace has upset everyone. The empre—” I bite my tongue. It’s habit, my faith in my empress. To claim that she’ll contain the fear and bring harmony. That she’ll work with the Perinyian Council to make sure the Otherworlders don’t breach the capital again. My own empress, who I dedicated my life to, ordered me here. I still can’t make sense of it. Other than she believes she’s doing her goddess’s will. “It will be dealt with.”
Teagan mimics my stance, planting her palms on the bars before her. “It’s more than fear mongering, young Nactue. The Perinyian people believe that Bale has imbued herself among them. Seeping past their weakened mentality…” She tilts her head. “That Bale has touched some, generating a widespread epidemic.”
My grip on the bars tightens as my spine locks taut. “They’re afraid of the mentally unstable?”
“Crazy people,” she corrects, remorseless. “Don’t soften it. They’re calling for a cleanse. Like in the old days. Mad women have obviously been touched by Bale, so we must eradicate them. Get rid of the evil. Before it spreads to the masses.”