in a knot against the other wall, before she squeezed the trigger. The report of the rifle battered her ears, echoing off the stones.
The troll went down, blood spreading across his chest.
Outnumbered, the final three trolls were subdued. Julien and Edmund pushed the two wounded trolls into a nearby dungeon cell, locking them in. The cell wouldn’t hold them long, as the door was locked with only a bar, but it would keep them out of the way for now and make them easier to guard.
Essie slung her rifle onto her back once again and hurried down the corridor.
Melantha pushed to her hands and knees, glancing at them through a curtain of greasy hair with wild eyes. Hollows dug underneath her cheekbones and eyes while her tattered red dress hung from gaunt shoulders and bony hips. Her feet were bare, and the back of her dress had been cut open at one point, revealing welts and scars still pink and fresh.
What had happened to her? Essie halted in the corridor, staring. She had not expected to feel this much pity for Melantha. Even though Melantha had hurt Farrendel and brought this upon herself, Essie couldn’t gloat. Not when Melantha had clearly suffered for those choices.
With one trembling hand, Melantha pointed down the dungeon corridor. “Farrendel is in the last cell at the far end. Please hurry. He has not responded to me at all today.”
Essie took a running step down the corridor. Farrendel was down there. He was still alive, she could sense that much. How badly was he hurt?
Julien caught her around the waist before he could pass him. “Let us go first. Just in case...just let us go in first, all right?”
Julien and Edmund weren’t sure what they would find in that cell. While she appreciated that they were trying to protect her, this was her husband they were talking about.
Still, Essie nodded and didn’t try to run past when Julien let her go.
After giving a quiet order for the soldiers to stay there and guard the wounded trolls, Julien strode down the passageway. Essie trailed after him, and Edmund fell into step beside her.
One of the elves stopped to help—or, perhaps, apprehend—Melantha while the other two padded behind Essie and Julien, their gazes darting about the dungeon.
The dungeon cell at the far end was locked with only a large stone bar, though the door itself appeared to be made from stone fashioned to look like an iron door. It even swung on stone hinges. Definitely a door designed to hold Farrendel.
After lifting the locking bar, Julien opened the door and stepped inside. Essie hurried to follow. Edmund raised a hand, like he wanted to stop her, but he halted.
The interior of the cell was dark, lit only by the torches outside. It was round, entirely stone from ceiling to walls to floor.
The stench slammed into her first. Blood and unwashed body.
But even that wasn’t what froze her in place. It was the sight of Farrendel, pinned spread-eagle to the floor like a frog in a science experiment waiting to be dissected. His hair lay in shortened, uneven strands plastered to his temples. Each of his ribs stuck out clearly while blood had dried in a solid brown puddle all around him.
Even though she could sense he was still alive through the heart bond, she stared at his chest for several long seconds, trying to pick out the steady rise and fall of his breathing, though it was so shallow it was barely detectable.
Her stomach churned, and a part of her wanted to bolt back out the door and run far away from this cell. She had known Farrendel would not look like himself. That he would be hurt. But she had not realized how painful it would be to see him like this.
It took concentrated effort to force her legs to move. She knelt next to Farrendel’s shoulder where the bones of his collarbone and shoulder jutted against his skin. She gently brushed at a lock of hair on his forehead. “Farrendel, my love. Please wake up.”
He didn’t even stir at her touch. How far gone was he?
At least the heart bond hadn’t immediately connected like it had on the battlefield after the ambush, so he must not be so bad off yet that he needed her to keep his heart beating.
Or he was so close to death the heart bond knew not to try.
Julien set his pack on the ground and pulled out a hammer and