Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,81
hands tended to be, though the trolls would know that. They had practice shackling Farrendel.
But her chains were not tight and embedded into her skin like his were. These chains had been done hastily, and not by Prince Rharreth who knew her better than the other trolls did. Perhaps the troll who had formed the shackles would not take into account that her hands were even smaller and slimmer than a male elf warrior’s hand.
Squeezing her thumb to her palm, she shoved the shackle with her other hand. After several minutes of straining, the shackle popped free, leaving bloody gouges across her hand behind. The second one popped off with a few more minutes of effort.
Melantha stood, the shackles still rattling against her ankles. The shackles halted her several feet from the door. Even leaning forward, she could just brush her fingertips against the stone of the door.
This would not work. She had to free her ankles as well as her hands if she were to reach the door.
Melantha plopped onto the floor and removed her thin shoe, then her stocking. Even then, when she pulled on the shackle, she could not get it over the heel of her foot, no matter how she worked it back and forth. She even tried lubricating her ankle with spit, but she could not get the shackle close to slipping free.
Melantha heaved a sigh that sounded more like yet another scream and stared at that shackle. In the distance, the booms were growing more constant, more insistent. Surely King Charvod would not hold off on sending someone for Farrendel for much longer. She had to get herself free.
She had taken an oath that she would not cause harm with her magic. But, would that oath stop her from rearranging the bones in her ankles temporarily in order to escape? She would not be using her magic with the intent to harm, even if she would be hurting herself in the process.
Another boom, this one louder, shook the floor beneath her.
Melantha drew in a deep breath. She had no choice on this. To free herself, she would have to break her own ankles. She could heal the bones afterwards, and she probably could dull the pain. Maybe.
Calling on her magic, she pushed a soothing burst of magic through her foot and ankle, numbing her skin, muscle, bones.
Gritting her teeth, she gathered more magic and for a moment simply held it, ready.
She could do this. She had to do this. No matter how much it might or might not hurt. To rescue Farrendel, she had no choice.
With a deep breath, she shoved her magic into her ankle, grabbed hold of the bones, and snapped them.
Pain shot through her, first in her ankle, then spreading into her chest and head. Melantha gasped, black spots dancing in front of her eyes.
Her stomach roiling, ankle throbbing, she reached for her other shoe, her hands shaking. Somehow, she peeled off her shoe and her stocking.
This time, she did not bother trying to numb her foot first. With a growl, she grabbed her magic, shoved it into her ankle, and cracked her bones.
Fiery pain exploded in her ankle, spreading up her leg until her whole body seized with it. All she could do was whimper, under too much pain to even scream, as a few hot tears coursed down her cheeks.
Blackness danced across her vision. Somehow, she had ended up curled on the floor, even though she did not remember lying down. She tried to breathe through the agony, but it squeezed deep inside her chest.
No matter how much it hurt, she needed to gather her strength and push through this. If she waited too long, her ankles and feet would swell, and she would never get the shackles off even after breaking her own bones.
With shaking hands, she reached for her ankle. She must not be weak. Not now. More tears coursed down her cheek as she shoved the stone shackle over her shattered foot.
Her stomach heaved as she shifted to reach her second ankle. This one was the foot she had broken first, and it had begun swelling. She pushed, but the stone shackle got stuck partway off.
Melantha groaned with the pain. She was so close. Just a little bit more pain. After the beating she had endured, surely she was tough enough for this.
With a deep breath, she shoved on the shackle. It clattered to the stone floor, free of her ankle.