life on it.
Probably best just to change the subject. He had no wish to give away something the trolls did not already know. The point of talking was to gain information, not give it.
“Where is...” Farrendel had to swallow the last of the gritty bread from his mouth. “Where is my sister?”
Did he want to know the answer to this question? The last time he had seen Melantha, she had a knife to her face as Prince Rharreth threatened her. Had she ever been in danger? Or had that just been for show to recapture Farrendel? His mind had still been so hazy and drugged, he was not sure how much had been real and what had been pretense.
How much was she still cooperating with the trolls? She might hate Farrendel, but surely she would not aid the trolls against Weylind, her full brother, not a half-brother born illegitimately. She had betrayed Farrendel because she believed the trolls’ promises of peace for Tarenhiel and because she wanted her family to return to the way it had been. Neither of those things would happen now.
Prince Rharreth eyed Farrendel, his square jaw hard. “You ask after her? After what she did?”
“She is still my sister.” Farrendel’s chest tightened at Prince Rharreth’s evasive answer. “What have you done to her? Is she all right?”
Was she a guest of honor in an opulent suite, plotting with the trolls on how best to torture Farrendel? Or was she the person Prince Rharreth had locked up before coming to Farrendel’s cell? What if she was also pinned with stone and suffering?
“If you hurt her...” Farrendel strained against the rock binding him to the floor. What he would not give for even a crackle of his magic.
“You will do what? Assassinate me as you murdered my father?” Prince Rharreth’s mouth curled, his face as hard as the stones around them. With his pale gray skin, he looked like he could fade away into the stones of the wall behind him. “You are in no position to make threats.”
Farrendel forced himself to lie still. He should not display this much care for her. It would hand the trolls another weapon to use against him. “It seems you are just like your father. He enjoyed torturing helpless victims as well.”
Prince Rharreth’s eyes flared, and his jaw worked. Gathering the bowl, he stood and brushed off the knees of his trousers, his leather tunic creaking. At the door, he paused and glared over his shoulder at Farrendel. “Enjoy today, elfling. My brother will extract from you the blood of all of our people you have killed soon enough.”
Farrendel gritted his teeth, even as the crust of bread and watery broth he had eaten churned in his stomach. Weeks of torture. That was what he was facing.
But not today. The trolls probably intended for him to stew in the darkness and stone and pain to weaken him before they started the torture.
Without another word, Prince Rharreth strode from the cell, and the door slammed shut behind him. His bootsteps marched down the corridor before another door creaked open and shut in the distance.
Quiet descended on the passageway for several long heartbeats. Then, Melantha’s voice echoed through the darkness. “Farrendel? Are you there?”
That was Melantha in the other cell. She did not sound like she was in pain.
Should he answer her? What if the trolls had put her down there so that she could attempt to regain his trust? Maybe they thought he would spill Tarenhieli military secrets and planning to his sister.
“Are you all right? Farrendel?” Melantha’s voice rose, as if strained with worry.
Was she pretending? Or was that concern real?
No, he could not allow himself to be taken in. Better to believe she still hated him than to fall for her trick again.
Still, it might be worth playing along. Maybe she and the trolls would tip their hand and give Farrendel information or something else he could use.
Besides, it was either lie here unmoving, slowly going insane by himself, or he could converse with Melantha.
“I am fine. They have not hurt me yet, besides the restraints.” Farrendel closed his eyes. Somehow, the darkness was better if it was of his own making. If only he could pretend away the headache and the piercing stone as easily.
“I am sorry.”
Sure she was. She was probably just sorry that her treachery had been revealed and she had been forced to come here with the trolls instead of returning to her home in Tarenhiel.
Perhaps