Prisoner (The Scarred Mage of Roseward #2) - Sylvia Mercedes Page 0,98

instant, her foot found no floor and she pivoted forward. While the red room had been brightly, almost garishly lit by the blazing fire, the world outside that room was dark with impenetrable Night. The moment she crossed the threshold, she was utterly blind.

Her foot landed, and she staggered, her arm flailing in search of support. A many-fingered hand caught hold of her elbow, steadying her. The pink woman? Nelle strained her eyes, which had always so effortlessly adapted to darkness. Here, they betrayed her entirely. Even when she turned, trying to catch a glimpse of the red room, she saw nothing. Panic rippled through her veins.

The cool voice of the pink woman spoke in the darkness near her ear. “Why stop?”

“My eyes,” Nelle whispered. “I can’t see!”

A pause. Then the soft voice murmured a string of words that seemed to ignite the very air. Nelle blinked in wonder as she somehow saw those words take shape before her eyes . . . not as words or written letters, but as movements, vibrations of energy. With a gasp, Nelle blinked again. She was no longer blind. Magic shimmered on the edges of her vision, and she peered at the dark world around her as it slowly clarified.

They stood in a narrow passage at the top of a winding stair. One more staggering step, and she would surely have fallen and broken her neck. She squeezed the pink woman’s hand hard.

“Come,” the pink woman said and led the way.

Each step was perfectly smooth, polished to perfection, even the edges rounded. Strange etchings decorated the close walls of the stairwell, along the same theme as the risqué mural in the red room. Ye gods, was this whole tower devoted to the sole purpose of seduction? Nelle shivered.

Then she shivered again, this time with cold. The air was bitter against her exposed skin, the stones icy beneath her unshod feet. It wasn’t exactly a cold like winter; it was the cold of a world where the sun never shone. How did anything live or grow in this place?

At the base of the stair they faced another blank wall. Nelle drew up short, frowning, but the pink woman approached the wall without pause, placed one hand in its center, and murmured. Magic again sprang to life, drawn out from the quinsatra, and a door opened, revealing an arched passage lined with tall pillars.

“There,” the pink woman said, stepping back and sweeping an arm to indicate the doorway. “You go.”

Nelle nodded but didn’t release her hold on the pink woman. The vila’s unblinking eyes glowed like two silvery globes, highlighting the sharp contours of her cheekbones. “Will you come with me?” Nelle asked. She repeated the question twice and added several expressive hand gestures to indicate flight before the woman seemed to understand.

The pink woman shook her head firmly and took a step back, putting distance between them. “No,” she said. “No. I stay . . . with . . . with husband.”

She meant it. There was no point in arguing with that set face. Whether the sentiment stemmed from fear of Kyriakos or loyalty, Nelle couldn’t guess. If loyalty, then why would the pink woman betray her husband by helping his newest plaything escape? Unless she simply didn’t want to share him with yet another wife.

Or maybe she knew what Nelle was—Ibrildian.

Nelle shook her head. She could work the puzzle from every angle for an age and be no closer to an answer. Meanwhile, Kyriakos might wake at any moment. “All right then,” she said, and raised the nilarium poker in an awkward sort of salute. “Thank you.”

“Gods be for you,” the pink woman whispered. With those words, she clasped her hands, bowed her head, and let the curtain of her hair fall like a veil over her face. Her task was done.

Feeling strangely bereft, Nelle stepped through the doorway. She’d only taken a few paces before she felt movement in the air. Turning, she saw the doorway shut.

She was alone now. Totally alone.

The hall before her was twice as broad as the entry foyer in Dornrise and much, much longer. Even with her magically opened eyes, she couldn’t see its far end. Windows lined the walls on either side, but they were set too high for her to see anything but darkness beyond them.

Surely the nymph wouldn’t send her this way if there was no possibility of escape. Or was she walking into a trap?

Bereft of options, Nelle slipped to the nearest pillar,