was afraid to give Snow the same access she’d given Damascus—but Snow was not the witch. She would steal nothing.
Every night, Snow came to her. And every night, she healed a little more.
The quickness of her healing shocked her, but she accepted it gratefully.
“Sisters help each other. The witch will take you eventually, as soon as she can get the power and the spell to do it. And she will. She will, if you let her.”
Rune felt the girl digging around inside her, searching for something.
But she healed, and she didn’t care.
There was nothing left to steal.
So slowly she healed, biding her time, waiting for the something big that was coming.
She watched as cruel guards beat her cellmates. She starved along with the rest of them—only Nikolai ate, dining on the blood of willing prisoners. They were happy to trade blood for the bite of the master. He could make them writhe in ecstasy as he sank his fangs into them and pulled blood from their veins.
Rune had eventually tossed her pride and stubbornness away. She’d slid her hands through the filthy water on the floor and sucked the moisture from her skin.
But one thing never reared its head in desperation.
She did not need to feed.
She did not want blood.
Her monster was truly gone.
Gone.
So much was gone.
She gave Lex up for dead.
There was no way the little Other was still alive.
She let her grief fuel her rage.
Finally, a quietly vicious woman named Ellen, one of the few guards who believed in the princess more than she feared the witch, beckoned Rune to her.
“You’re not without allies,” she whispered, glancing around as though Damascus might be lurking. “We’re getting you out of here. You can’t save the world if you’re locked away, now can you?”
“No,” Rune said. “I can’t. I’ll be taking the other prisoners with me.”
Ellen didn’t argue. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“Yeah. I can’t do this on my own. When?”
“Very soon. Be ready.” She hesitated. “Lives will be lost, but you’re not to stay and fight. You have to get away from here before the witch gets what she needs to keep you her prisoner forever.”
“What else do I need to know?”
“The crawlers are surrounding the castle. When you make it out, you’ll have to deal with them.”
Rune nodded.
It made sense that Damascus would station the terrifying crawlers around the castle. Not many could defeat the bastards.
Rune would. She would.
“You have to fight with me,” she told the prisoners, but her voice lacked any kind of hope that they would. They were simply too damaged. Too scared.
Those who stood with her—Nikolai, Cree, and Abby—were also afraid. Terrified.
That fear was good—much better than sluggish apathy. And along with their fear, they had talents. Power.
Except for Cree, but Rune wasn’t leaving her behind.
The crawlers were there.
Worse than anything else, the crawlers were there. Even if Rune fought her way through them, the likelihood of the others escaping them was very small.
She felt the crawlers like a slick, oily taste in the back of her throat. A rotten taste. At the thought of them, fear, sharp and metallic, coated her tongue.
Nikolai stood beside her, his eyes full of contempt in the dim gray light. “They would rather stay in their chains and remain the witch’s ragged playthings than fight.” He looked at Abby, then at Cree, and finally, at Rune. “We will fight with you, and we will win. In the end, you will scrape this destroyed world from the soles of your boots and a new world will be created. That is your destiny, and you will fulfill it.”
She wanted to believe him.
She almost did, because he believed.
He really did.
Abby stood beside them, and Cree…even the shattered Cree, her head down, face turned away, stood as well.
Rune didn’t understand how the bird could stand beside Abby after what the torturer had done to her, but once, and only once, she’d caught a glimpse of Cree’s eyes when she looked at Abby.
Then she understood.
Cree would kill the other woman if she was ever offered the chance.
She hadn’t lost her hatred. She’d just hidden it.
She was weak and damaged and God only knew what was in her shattered mind, but she would fight. She had vengeance in her heart. That would drive her. She might die, and she knew she might die, but her need for revenge would drive her.
Cree Stark was as unrecognizable as Fin had been, and even more pitiful.