Moldy green walls splattered with things she didn’t care to look at too closely. Wet, slimy floors that stank of waste, blood, death.
Drink from that?
No.
One of the prisoners sat near her, his back against the wall, forearms across his bent knees.
He watched her silently.
She struggled to sit up, but gave up when it proved too difficult a task. “Water?” she asked.
The man watching her spoke, at last. “You’re almost unrecognizable as a person. Who beat you?”
“The fucking witch,” she croaked, and all around her were gasps.
He smiled, slightly, his lips turning up in the shadowy darkness. “You mean she had you beaten.”
She cleared her throat, grimacing. “No. I mean the witch kicked my ass.”
“If Damascus used such magic on you, you’d be dead.” His voice was flat.
“She stole my…my strength, and she beat the fuck out of me with it.”
He lifted dark eyebrows. “I’ve lived here for an eternity, and I’ve never known the witch to dirty her hands that way.”
“What’s your name?”
He shrugged. “That doesn’t really matter, does it?”
She curled her lip, and even that expression of contempt hurt her. “You’ve given up.”
He snorted. “Given up? Oh yes, I’ve given up. There is no hope for any of us. If I were a braver soul I’d beg a friend to grab a sharpened stick and end this very trying existence.”
Rune narrowed her eyes. “Hmmm.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I was wrong. You haven’t given up.”
He sighed. “Go back to sleep, child. If you’re one of the lucky ones you won’t wake up again.”
“What’s your name?” she persisted.
“You’re a stubborn girl.” But there was a hint of admiration in his tone. “I am the Death Shimmer lord. My name is—”
“Nikolai Czar,” she murmured. “Fie’s bad man.”
Slowly, he stood and walked to her. “How do you know Fie?”
Rune tried to laugh but the sound that emerged was closer to a sob. “I’m the one who brought her here.”
Even in the darkness she could see his face pale. “You’re…Rune?”
“Yeah. I’m Rune.”
“Princess,” he whispered, and the word slid through the dungeons like a snake through tall grass.
The prisoners began to stir, and a gentle breeze seemed to caress her hair. The dungeon woke up.
And something else seemed to suddenly move and stir and hum.
It wasn’t a sound, though.
It was something that should have fled long ago from the bowels of hell in which the witch had stashed them.
It was bright and shiny and belonged in the sun.
It was hope.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Nikolai studied her with eyes so deeply blue they looked black, and so full of emotion it hurt her to look into them.
Rune was accustomed to men who shielded their emotions and blanked their faces. She didn’t know quite how to take Nikolai.
The bad man.
Fie wasn’t wrong.
He wore his badness as blatantly as he wore his emotions. Nikolai would not hide who he was from anyone.
“Did you know Nicolas Llodra?” She was as surprised as he was by the question. She hadn’t meant to ask it, but something about him made her think of Nicolas, and the question came out.
Once asked, she didn’t try to retract it. She wanted to know, after all.
“One of your…fathers. I knew him.” His gaze picked her apart. “How does he fare in the world of the great Rune Alexander?”
She looked away from his stare, which appeared at once both knowing and innocent. “He’s dead.”
“Perhaps he is the lucky one, then. You are not as I’d imagined you.” He sat down beside her, then shifted slightly from one hip to the other. And though he didn’t grimace, his discomfort was obvious. “You’ve lived with pain.”
She laughed, but the sound was not one of amusement. “Yeah.”
“And discord,” he continued. “Most of all, you are a child of indecision, and that causes you trouble.”
She looked away, and stared instead at the gouged, bloody wall. “You don’t know me.”
She heard the smile in his voice. “I know you, Princess. I know you well enough.”
“Do you believe I’m going to deliver this world from the witch?” She turned to look at him then, an eyebrow cocked. “Save you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t ask if it mattered. I asked what you believe.”
He cocked his head. “I believe you will try.” Then it was his turn to shrug. “But first you’ll need to carve your way out of this disturbing and very secure prison.”
She lifted her chin. “I will. Don’t doubt that.”
“One word of warning. Don’t let Damascus discover your greatest fears. She will use them to torment you until you