pipe bouncing up and down with each word. Ashes fell, skittering along the floor like dust mites in a gentle breeze. One finger touched under Tressa's chin as the woman walked closer and stared into Tressa's eyes.
The irises of the woman's eyes were huge, crowding out almost all of the grassy green pigment. Drugs. Tressa had seen those eyes before in Hutton's Bridge when she, Connor, and Bastian had stolen some grass from the meadow and smoked it. They'd laughed and laughed, muffling their conversation behind pursed lips to avoid getting caught. But this woman smoked it in the open, not caring who saw. The Sands truly was a strange place.
"I need to pull the truth out of her," Jacinda said, strolling around the dungeon as if it was her throne room.
"What truths do you seek, Jacinda?" the old woman asked. She winked at Tressa, squeezed her chin, then turned back to the queen.
"I need to know the true nature of her relationship with Jarrett." Her eyes blazed. "Everything she's told so far is lies, Miranda."
"And you know this because..." The old woman, Miranda, placed her hands on Jacinda's shoulders. The queen relaxed a bit, her arms dangling at her sides.
"Because I know Jarrett," she said with a sigh.
Despite the clothes and the crown, she no longer looked like a queen. Only a woman worried about her man's wandering eye. Tressa had seen that stooped posture and lost look in herself after Bastian was taken from her and given to Vinya. Still, Tressa hadn't assaulted Vinya or locked her in a dungeon. She understood, but she felt no sympathy from Jacinda.
Jacinda shook Miranda's arms away. She pulled herself up, regal once again. Reaching out, Jacinda grabbed skin from Tressa's arm between two fingers and pinched until Tressa couldn't help but whimper. "You will tell me what Jarrett wants with you. And Miranda will make sure you don't die during the torture."
With wild eyes, Tressa looked to Miranda, who winked at her again. "It's true, my dear. I'm a healer. A gifted one. I can take a person from the brink of death and draw them back to life. Again. And again. And again. Endlessly."
"Jarrett and I came here for help," Tressa said, forgetting she'd promised to let Jarrett introduce their story with finesse. "I'm from Hutton's Bridge."
Jacinda took a step backward, stumbling into a wall. "No! Hutton's Bridge is a tale, nothing more. A ghost town hidden in the fog. There were no survivors." She shook her head, her hair cascading out of the loose bun, dangling over her face. “It’s another lie. Miranda, prepare to heal her.”
The queen went to the armory on the wall, grabbing a sharp metal device. Like the wishbone of a chicken, two metal bars were connected at the top, with two spikes at the bottom of each bar. Jacinda squeezed and the spikes clashed together with a sickening metallic scratch.
“Do you know what this does?” Jacinda asked Tressa, taking slow, small steps toward her.
Tressa didn’t answer. She couldn’t have uttered a comprehensible word if she’d tried. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton, her throat tight, overflowing with the erratic beat of her heart.
“It will tear at the flesh of your breasts. It will puncture holes. Ugly holes, not pretty piercings. No, the ripper will mimic the teeth of a famished tiger, eating his first meal in days.” Jacinda smirked. “But don’t worry, Miranda will heal you before you die. I wouldn’t want you bleeding to death before I get my answers. Miranda, would you please…”
Miranda took a long drag of her pipe, then placed it on a nearby shelf. She laid her hands on Tressa’s head. “At your leisure, Jacinda.”
She clanked the ripper together a couple more times. Lunging for Tressa, she snatched the front of her dress, ripping it in two, exposing Tressa’s breasts to the cold air.
Tressa jerked against her bonds in an effort to cover her body, but the ropes only dug in harder, keeping her from defending herself against this insane woman.
Jacinda smiled. “Nervous, are you? It’s okay. Most women are. They don’t like being tortured. Occasionally the men enjoy it, but only rarely. As soon as you tell me what I need to know, I’ll set you free.”
Tears spilled down Tressa’s cheeks. “I already told you. I’m from Hutton’s Bridge.”
“Liar,” Jacinda screamed, her eyes feral. She lunged again.
Tressa closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the pain.
Nothing came except a loud thud on