Scorched Treachery (11 page)

My eyes opened slowly, the bright light that Cail had cast on our prison eliminating everything. My eyes burned, and I tried to look away, but Cail’s magic kept me so perfectly restrained that there was no hope of moving. I stared at Cail as he came toward me, his arms folded as he sneered.

“Hmmm, say, pretty little sister, did you help them?”

I met his eyes, squared my jaw and glared into him. I wasn’t going to tell him anything. He’d known it was me from the beginning. I was just going to take whatever punishment he doled out for me. I kept my eyes locked with his, wishing he would back down as I fought the shiver of fear that wiggled its way up my spine.

“It was Ryland,” Sain gasped, his guilt making him take a regrettable back step.

Please don’t, Sain, don’t push him.
I could see it in Cail’s eyes; he was going to take everything out on me.

For one split second, his face softened, his hand moving up to cup my face.
Then it was gone, the gentleness I had seen before leaving as the hand on my cheek turned into a slap.

My arms flew above my head of their own accord, my shoulders stretched painfully as the shackles wrapped themselves around my wrists and the chains lifted until my feet left the ground. I felt my big toe release from the ground just as Cail’s
magical restraints left me; leaving my shackled wrists to support my own weight. I screamed in agony as my body weight pulled against my shoulders and the heavy metal cuffs cut into my wrists.

My scream had barely left my throat before the flat palm of my brother’s hand moved across my cheek, sending my head to the side before it dropped down to my chest in defeat and weakness. I let my head hang there, my scream forgotten, not wanting to muster the strength to lift it.

“Leave her alone!” Talon’s weak voice echoed around the stone walls, making him sound much stronger then he actually was. My head snapped up at the sound of his voice, my eyes opening at him, pleading with him to just lay down and stay out of it, to save himself.

I knew he wouldn’t. He was slowly attempting to pull himself up, but his arms gave up halfway, sending him down to the ground. Cail moved away from me to squat down in front of Talon, the large slimy bars of my cell the only thing between Cail and my husband.

“I guess I need to teach you a lesson too.” Cail didn’t even move; he stayed squatted with his hands hanging limply in front on him when Talon started to scream. I screamed along with him, trying to plead for Talon’s safety, trying to fight back. My back arched as I screamed and tried to fight my way toward him, sending my body bouncing against the stone wall, my screams changing to my own agony at each impact.

Talon screamed as his body shifted on the ground, his weak muscles not giving him an option to fight back. Cail was hurting him without
skin contact. I didn’t want to start thinking about what else he might be capable of. I knew it wasn’t his own magic he was using there – it was Edmund’s. And Edmund was capable of just about anything.

Talon’s screams died, and Cail’s eyes widened. I froze, my eyes stuck on my husband and on the limited movement in his chest.

“Talon?” I gasped, not caring about the consequences.

I stared at his chest, at the stillness of it. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

“Talon!”

“Shut up, sister!” Cail yelled as he pulled himself back to standing. “He’s only passed out. I wouldn’t kill a perfectly good body, not when there are so many other chances to torture him.”

He looked at me and smiled. I tried to control my breathing, I tried to settle down and scowl at him. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t afraid, but I couldn’t. For the first time, I was scared.

“Well, it looks like my work here is done,” Cail said as he strode out of my cell, leaving the door wide open.

“I’ll go get your reward, shall I, Sain? Be right back.” He spoke like a friend. But his words were more of a warning than anything.

I watched him as he left, leaving his light behind to brighten the disgusting prison we were trapped in. I
watched him go, my shoulders on fire, my head spinning slightly as my body attempted to give into the pain.

Please let it give in soon.

“Is
he all right?” Sain asked, his voice a whisper. I gaped at him, shocked he had the balls to say anything, and risk them coming back down to hurt us. It no longer mattered now.

“Yes.” I looked away from the staircase to Talon. I still could not see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I felt the thundering in my heart, and for one brief moment it over rode the pain in my body. Please just be knocked out.
Please.

“Are you al
l right?” Sain whispered from the other side of the jail, the regret I saw in his eyes earlier just as heavy in his voice now.

I was beginning to hate that question. I hated what it meant. I hated that it was the first thing we asked one another. I missed asking someone how their day was, or even talking about the weather. God, how I missed talking about the weather.

I didn’t answer Sain. I rested my head against the rock wall, my arms tight against the skin of my cheeks.

“It will be soon,” Sain said, and this time I looked at him.
Something about his voice was different.

“What will be soon?” My voice creaked out slowly, the muscles in my throat burning as I forced air through them.

“When that life is lost, there will be a moment when you can do anything.” His voice was strangely deadpan, his eyes focused on Talon and not on me.

“Sain?” I asked, ignoring the throbbing of truth that was burning through me. His words seeped into me and rattled my bones with a sob that wouldn’t leave me. I pushed it to the side. I locked it away as my pride, my fear, took over.

“No, Sain,” I pleaded, not wanting him to continue.

“Follow the light, and you will escape. Follow the pain, and you will die.”

“Sain!” I screamed his name, not caring if I was heard, not caring what beating might follow. I just wanted Sain to take his words back. I didn’t want to hear them.

Sain turned his head to me, his hands wrapped around the bars as he looked at me. I barely made out the crinkle in his eyes as he smiled
, before footsteps started thundering down the stairwell.

I froze, regretting my scream and awaiting whatever new pain was to come. But it wasn’t pain
; it was something far worse.

My father bolted down the steps and right into my cell, his strides bringing him right up to me. His hand collided with my jaw, his dark eyes staring into me wickedly. He was daring me to challenge him, daring me to speak back, glare, anything. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t see beyond the blinding words Sain had just unleashed on me. They leached out of the air like a poison and zapped all the fight out of me.

“Good girl,” Timothy said, his lips turning up. He raised his hand and the chains that suspended me loosened, my body dropping to the ground as much as the chains would allow, restraining me to a high sitting position.

“Don’t cause any more problems,” Timothy spat as he walked away, just as more feet and voices echoed down to us.

“Oh god, what is that terrible stench,” Ovailia spat, her icy voice cutting through me and adding to my fear.

“The smell of fear and oppression, dear,” Cail said, laughing as he walked back in. Ovailia, Edmund, and one of their guards followed him in.

My father turned at Edmund’s arrival, bowing slightly as Edmund surveyed the circumstances around him. I tried to look away, but couldn’t. I stared at Edmund, knowing that defeat was evident on my face, knowing it didn’t matter anymore.

“Lovely,” he said, his voice stiff as he tried not to inhale. “I think you two have done a wonderful job.”

Edmund moved around in front of us, his hands clanging each of our cells as he moved past.

Ovailia followed her father, Cail right beside her. As she moved past us, her eyes taking us all in, I caught her gaze. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at the bruises on my face and the way I was strung up and immobilized.

“You’re looking well, Wynifred.” She smiled, and Cail laughed at her taunt before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the cell against the far wall.

“Hello, Sain,” she said as she kneeled down in front of Sain’s cell, bringing her eyes down to his level. The sharp points of her high heels stuck out precariously, the glistening of the black leather caught in the low light. I
looked at the shoes, wishing I could grab just one of them and use it against her.

“How are you doing, dear? Did you miss me?” I could hear the laugh in her voice, the taunt, but Sain only smiled, his eyes crinkling in joy.

“I never missed you Ovailia.” Even I could hear the lie and the heartbreak that his voice held.

“How nice,” Ovailia sneered. “I have a gift for you.”

Ovailia lifted her hand, and the servant that had followed them down put a large brown mug in it. She lowered it down so that Sain could see, and he jumped, his body moving to press against the bars. Sain’s chained hands reached for it, his desperate fingers unable to reach.

“Water,” he gasped, the need in his voice showing a primal urge that I hadn’t been aware he possessed. I watched as he grasped for the mug, his fingers reaching as Ovailia’s smile increased.

“Thirsty, are we?” she asked, and the men behind her snickered.

“Calm down, Sain,” Edmund said. “You know our deal.”

The old man backed down, his chains grinding against the floor as he retreated to the corner of his cell.

“What would you have me see?” Sain asked, his voice distanced as he recited words I was sure he had said a million times before.

“Ilyan wants Ovailia to give him Ryland,” Edmund said. My head shot up, my breathing shallow. I moved against my chains, trying not to call attention to myself but wanting to hear everything. “We need to know if the boy is ready for the job we have prepared him for.”

Sain nodded once in understanding, and Cail swung the door to his cell open, letting Ovailia walk in with the mug in her hands. She walked right to him, her heels clicking loudly as she spat in the mug, her saliva dripping down the inside wall of the cup before she handed it to him
with a wicked smile. He clenched it greedily, his fingers shaking as he held it against his chest.

“Not yet, Sain,” Edmund said as he too stepped into the tiny cell. I could barely make out Sain from behind the forest of legs between
us.

I watched in silence as Edmund took out a tiny silver dagger, cutting his daughter’s finger and then his own, adding their blood to the mug before stepping out.

“Don’t you want to try some, Ovi?” Sain asked, causing Ovailia to turn, her heels clicking to a stop.

“I never did, Sain,” she sneered, folding her arms, her hair swinging as she glared at him. “I only told you that so you would think I loved you.”

She smiled and exited the cell, thinking she had won, but I could see the crinkle around Sain’s eyes.

“You only lie to yourself to decrease the hurt, Ovi. Don’t deny what you have felt for me.”

Ovailia turned to lunge at him, but three pairs of hands held her back. Sain had already pressed the mug to his lips and was drinking deeply of the disgusting mixture of saliva, blood, and Black Water. He drained the mug quickly, resting his head on the wall as he sighed in appreciation.

I heard the breathing of everyone accelerate as they waited, for what I was not sure. My eyes were as glued to him as theirs were, expectation heavy between us.

Sain opened his eyes, the large orbs of green now the purest black, the very center glowing with the red heat of a fire before extinguishing to deep black like the rest. I gasped. I tried not to, but it came out anyway. Thankfully, no one looked my direction; no one seemed to hear.

Sain had opened his mouth, a deep moan releasing before he began to speak, the deep
unnatural sound I had heard before taking over his voice.

“Two men stand, one will fall. Blood will drip. The game is played, and those with the most pawns will take the stage. Take your man and play the game, but be careful where your trust is laid.”

The same deep groan filled the halls as his voice faded out, his keening continuing as the voices of our captors overlapped each other, trying to decipher the sight.

I didn’t hear them
; I didn’t even try to break words out of the mess of sound. I just stared at Sain, his eyes now back to their usual bright green. I wanted to make sense of the stories in those eyes. I wanted to hear the explanation and know what he had seen behind the black. He only stared, the sadness telling me all I needed to know. He had seen something, and it wasn’t good.

“Stop.” Edmund’s lone word broke through the bickering, and my focus
went right back on them.

“If I send him, I could lose him. That was always an option. I don’t think Sain’s sight says that however. Cail has used the same terminology about pawns with Joclyn, this is a chess game
, and it is all about foresight. The pawns are certainly in our favor.”

Edmund turned and looked over each of us, his eyes lingering for a moment on mine, the only one of the
captives who stared right back. He smiled, the hatred in his face looking through me, into a future me, someone else. I could see the need to control me in his eyes, the same look he had in my dreams as he hurt the beautiful child. No one should be able to hold that much hate in their heart. I looked away as he smiled, wishing the conversation would just end, and they would leave us, taking the suffocating hate with them.

“But,
Master,” Cail said, “it also said one would fall. What if that one is Ryland?”

“Then let him fall,” Edmund hissed, Timothy laughing at his outburst. “He was always just an expendable piece of property.”

“Is he strong enough?” Ovailia asked as she walked up to his cell, bending at the waist to get a better look at Ryland. “He doesn’t seem to be doing much.”

“Cail is controlling him, Ovailia,” Timothy said, his hands writhing together in excitement.

“What can he do?”

“Turn him off, Cail,” Edmund said. I stiffened at his voice, knowing what would come after, my breath catching in my throat for one solid minute before I was able to pick it back up. “Let my daughter see what all of your work has done for us.”

“Thank you, Master,” Cail breathed, his voice awed and humbled. He bowed slightly before moving forward, his hands wrapping around the bars of the cage.

Everyone waited for the hold Cail had on Ryland’s mind to dissipate, the silence dragging on and on. I couldn’t look away from Ryland, from the calm way he sat until the
first whimper escaped his lips, his hands already moving to claw through the air around his head.

“Joclyn,” he moaned, the grip of his fingers increasing as he began to rock back and forth, his mumbling increasing.

“This is your weapon?” Ovailia asked. “A weeping child?”

“No, Ovailia, it’s what the weeping child does that is the weapon.” Edmund smiled and clapped Cail on the shoulder, his action making him look like a proud father. “Go on, Cail.”

“Ryland,” Cail taunted, “Ovailia’s here. She saw Joclyn.”

Ryland looked up, his whimpers turning to a howl as he stood and rammed at the cage, his voice opening up into a wail that only increased as Cail went on. I pulled against my chains, wishing there was a way to move away. My body screamed as I tried, and eventually I had to give up. I shouldn’t still be scared of him, but I didn’t know what Cail had planned for his little show and tell, and that worried me.

“Joclyn?” Her name was a groan on Ryland’s lips, his hands gripping the bars in front of him so tightly that his knuckles had turned bright white.

“Yes, Ryland,” Cail continued, “they had a nice dinner together, and
do you know who else was there?” he asked, turning to Ovailia who smiled broadly and stepped up to the bars.

“Ilyan was there,” she said simply. Ryland’s grip tightened as he yelled, slamming his head into the bars over and over again.

“Yes, Ilyan was there, Ryland,” Cail continued, raising his voice enough to be heard above Ryland’s yells. “He was holding her hand and touching her face.”

Cail stopped as Ryland’s howls opened up, his body pulling against his chains
repeatedly as he tried to get through the bars to them.