Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) (33 page)

     My voice stirred, the anger rising in the cacophony surrounding us. The fury shook my limbs and I reached deep toward the voice crying inside. The words gathered in my throat and just as I was about to let them pour forth from my lips, my eyes found the face of a blonde soldier; the same mermaid who had heard my voice in Lathmor.

     She stood at a distance, staring at Patrick, her expression filled with pure maliciousness. My voice grew in my throat, concentrating toward her. Patrick had given me her name. The very thought of her brother, Bolrock, sent throbbing fear coupled with raging fury through my limbs. She wanted Patrick dead. Let her try.

    My mouth had only just opened when her eyes snapped to mine and the sound hitched in my throat. When she smiled, I remained frozen for a moment, and her lips pulled back further into a snarl. She suddenly charged in my direction, her strides short but powerful. It was only when she was ten feet away I realized another mermaid was with her. Crouching into my stance, I prepared for the deadly blows she was surely going to cast upon me.

     Readying my hands, I waited as she launched herself in my direction. I was about to slash out when she feigned to the right, making me stumble and lose my balance. I regained it quickly, but she came at me again. Her blades clipped my left shoulder, where her brother had left his mark and I grimaced in pain even as I dashed forward, trying to pay her back for the blood she’d drawn.

     She sauntered away from my blows, always just out of reach. With a lithe move, she sidestepped a parry and punched me in the left hip where the Hyven soldier had cut me. I wanted to gasp in pain, but no sound came out. Again I darted forward, and once more she averted my blows, only to reach in at the last second and place another cut along my back.

     A creeping worry began to fill my mind as I wondered why she didn’t go for the mortal blow. She had had her chance, at least twice, and I was still standing. I was contemplating this even as my body moved, when again, she clipped me along the back and I spun to follow her as she passed by.

     Everything suddenly became clear.

     Before my eyes, I saw it all as though I wasn’t really there. Patrick was still fighting, but we were separated, nearly twenty yards apart. He was slashing against those who came near, his stance protecting the blonde girl beside him, her frame and hair the same color as my own. I watched in horror as he blocked blows for her, taking down Hyven as he kept her safe, not knowing she wasn’t me.

     My voice gathered and I tried to scream out to him, even though I knew it was too late. Ressa had me in her arms before I could blink. A gag was thrust into my mouth and every single word and sound I could think of strained in my throat, only to be silenced by the gag. Even the call of the siren couldn’t break around it.

     I struggled against her, trying to spit out the filthy rag, and she knocked me down to the ground. I pulled my arm back to slice at her with my blades, she blocked them easily and punched me in the gut.

     All voice and wind left me, as I choked on the moldy taste of the rag in my mouth. Fear and anger were battling with one another, I was desperately trying not to panic even as she clasped my hands in the cuffs I had seen Verna wear. My blades would be of no use.

     Kicking at her with my legs, she called to a merman nearby and he came over to join us. My view of Patrick was blocked in the midst of the battle. I felt the tears reach my eyes as I tried to find some way to tell him where I was.

     The soldier lifted me to my feet and though I kicked against him, he was a solid barrier blocking me from everything I knew. The ground beneath my feet changed from sand to cool grass and still I struggled against the strong arms wrapped around me. My hair was hidden behind the black-clad arms of this Hyven soldier and even when I kicked him in his most vulnerable place, he never relented his grip.

     I fought with everything I had, but it wasn’t enough. The sounds of the battle retreated behind me. We were hidden now in the shadows of the trees and as the tears of panic filled my eyes, everything became blurry.

     The soldier stumbled over a root, and the small loss of balance was enough to give me room. I didn’t have my blades, but the metal cuffs were tougher than any punching glove. I swung my free arm at Ressa, knocking her aside. When the soldier’s arms slipped from my shoulders, I ran, not worrying about the gag as I didn’t have any fingers to pry it out.

     My hair flew behind me as I struggled to make it to the edge of the trees. I knew if someone could just see me, then everything would be fine.

     The edges of the battle were barely visible when all of the sudden a body stepped into my line of vision and knocked me to the ground. My head snapped back and hit the dirt with a painful thud. Before I could protest, I was on my feet, my arms secured behind my back as my head lay against the chest of this new merman.

     I felt the tickle of his hair, before his words reached my ears and filled me with more fear than I had felt since I had last seen him.

     “Hello, dear.” He said, and I nearly whimpered as I tried to pull away from him. I could just imagine the satisfaction in his gray gaze and the smile on his lips.

     His fingers were like ice along my arms. When he started to pull me backward up the hill, I fought him with everything I had, to no avail. We broke through the last of the trees, the battle unfolding before my eyes.

     The remains of bodies were strewn all across the shore, and in the center of it all was Patrick. His golden hair glinted as he fought off any who dared to come his way, while beside him remained the blonde girl he thought was me.

     They were all fighting to the death, thinking they were winning. But I had no way of telling them the battle was already lost.

     Straining against Morven’s arms, I searched frantically, as though it was my last chance of ever seeing them alive. Tunder was at the front of the group, leading as always. His left pant leg torn and I tried not to notice how he favored it as he moved against the Hyven. His men gathered around him, some falling during the onslaught. Kryssa was nearing the edge of the water, a heavy-set merman pushing her back. My breath caught in my throat as he knocked her down into the frothing foam and for a moment she was lost until the merman fell, his arms cut from his body. Elik stood above him, his chest heaving and his shirt torn over the back.

     It was then I heard a strangled cry and my last glimpse was one I would never forget.

     Daggin was on his knees, kneeling over Nixie’s still form, her red hair falling like drops of blood over his arms. He screamed out his agony as a Hyven soldier stabbed him in the back. He never moved from his wife’s side.

     I must have cried out in terror as sheer panic built within me. In horror, my eyes found Patrick once more. I screamed for all I was worth, desperately trying to bring my voice into pitch around the gag, but no sound I made was loud enough to cover the cacophony of the battle.

     My warrior never looked up, thinking I was standing beside him. And when the door to the castle slammed shut, cutting off my view of the battle, my world fell apart.

     The things I had seen ran through my mind and I remained stunned, as my eyes welled up and the tears ran down my cheeks in icy trails of abandon. All the heat drained from my body and my skin felt frozen as I continued to stare at the door.

     The silence became a looming presence and I wished with all my might Patrick would burst through the door to save me. But there was nothing.

     It wasn’t until Morven’s arms slid from around me and caressed my sides, guiding me to turn around, that I was forced to look away. His solid fingers pressed against the small of my back as he gestured forward, with his other.

     “Right this way, Marina.”

This can’t be happening. It isn’t real. You’re just dreaming. It’s just a nightmare. It isn’t real; it can’t be. Nixie’s fine. Daggin’s fine. They have to be fine, they can’t be gone. It can’t be real. Tell me it’s not real.

    
My hopes were falling away one by one. Terror flooded my veins, sweeping through my mind. My breaths were ragged—each one passing through my nose with giant stilted huffs.

     But you know it’s real,
the thought began to take hold. Logic threatening all security and sanity.
He isn’t here to protect you and still it’s real. He thinks he’s keeping you safe, but he isn’t…he said he would…but he isn’t…It can’t be real. It just can’t.

     And yet, I knew it was. I was dragged through corridors while the image of Daggin holding onto Nixie’s lifeless body replayed in my mind over and over again. When I tried to push it from my thoughts, all I could see was Patrick fighting beside the decoy they had used to draw me away—a living nightmare in my mind.

     The anger still churned deep within my veins. I ignored it for the time being, knowing I would need it, and soon. My head was hanging forward, my hair falling into my eyes as I tried desperately to come to terms with what had happened. I slowly came back to myself, the reality of where I was nearly knocked me backward in fear.

    
It’s not a dream, this is real. Breathe. In, out. Good. Again. In. Out.

     Morven had one hand pressed against my back, the other wrapped tightly around my arm. Ressa and the merman who had helped her walked behind us, their steps soft and barely audible over the pounding of Morven’s boots on the stone floor. Swallowing heavily, I peeked out from beneath the curtain of my hair to glance at the merman beside me. All I could see was his chest from this vantage point and there was nothing I wanted more than to use my voice on him.

     The raging girl, the one who had taken control when I interrogated Verna, lay just beneath the surface. She was waiting to take charge and unleash herself, relentlessly, upon this creature.

    
Wait
. I told her, trying to calm the nerves thrumming through my veins.

     He stormed down the halls, his fingers digging into my arm and though I tried to count corridors, I knew I was lost inside the castle. There was nothing familiar about any of these halls, each one was darker than I remembered. I had no way of knowing if we were headed into the middle of the castle or toward the back. I was lost, alone, and at his mercy.

     A massive wooden door stood before us after we rounded another curve in the hallway. Morven seemed to pick up speed as we got closer and on instinct my knees locked. I stumbled, but the death grip he had on my arm kept me from falling flat on my face. When he pulled me more tightly against his chest I whimpered, even though the sound was silenced by the disgusting cloth.

     The soldier moved ahead of us, to pull back on the metal door handle. I tried not to notice how his arms strained beneath the weight of it. If this powerful soldier could barely get the door open, how was I going to escape?

     The wood swung out and I peered around it to get a glimpse at a dim room beyond, where shadows loomed. My heart in my throat, Morven pushed me forward and my toes scrambled for purchase against the stones. Shoving me inside, I fell to the floor with a clang, my knees hitting the stones with a painful crack; my hands were still secured behind my back by the metal cuffs and the rest of my body hit the floor.

     “Sound the retreat,” Morven commanded.

     His face was hidden in shadow and I scooted along my back across the floor, bumping into something heavy. Shifting to the side, the hovering shadow of a large table spread to the right of me. I had hit my shoulder against one of the table legs.

     “But my Lord,” the merman rebutted. He sounded breathless.

     “No,” Morven’s dark hair hung along the side of his face, the lines of his brow etched in shadows. “You will sound the retreat. The battle ends, now.”

     “Yes, my lord.” Ressa said, seeming to understand the gravity with which her leader spoke.

     I wasn’t able to see the expression of the soldier, but he gave a perturbed sigh before turning to leave the room with Ressa. My thoughts were for those outside these walls and as I worried away at the gag, I knew I was in more danger than them. The fighting would end, but my battle had only just begun.

     The creature before me pushed against the wooden door and it shut with a resounding clang of finality, echoing throughout the chamber with a spacious resonance. The room was larger than I previously thought.

     He turned back to face me. I knew he could see my shrouded form in the darkness. A part of my mind knew I was able to see him more clearly than he could see me. Somehow, the thought of it gave me some confidence, even as I quaked in terror when he moved closer.

     His silence was unnerving. When he stepped closer to where I lay stretched upon the floor, my eyes widened as the fury in my blood turned to chilled horror. Just when I thought he was going to stand before me, he moved on, walking toward my left and releasing me, if only for a moment, of his presence. His steps echoed off the high chamber walls and it wasn’t until I heard the distant spark of a match, the room suddenly sprang to life around me.

     Stone walls stretched toward an arched ceiling where curved, shadows fluttered like moth wings. My back pressed against the leg of the table and I could just make out the edges of papers and a few fallen maps along the floor. Above my head was a table cloth of the deepest gray, the edge of the fabric nearly touching my hair. Off to the corner lay a pile of crumpled papers, each one more haggardly crunched than the next.

     Shifting my gaze back to where I knew he stood, I had to squint, as the fire he had lit in the overly large hearth raged to life with a roaring passion. His form was silhouetted by the flickering flames, when he moved to the side he disappeared behind what appeared to be a chair of great girth. The back stretched longer than necessary—its height boasting recognition—and the arm rests shaped by intricately polished wood. Clawed feet rested against the stone floor and the shadow of the chair’s back from the flames, streaked across the room where it bent and climbed the opposing wall. 

     The more I looked, the more I began to wonder what this place was. It was intimate and secluded. Everything in the room reminded me of him and the idea of these being his personal rooms was enough to make me shake with fear. I wanted to move, but I didn’t know where. I was trapped inside, with no escape. If I even managed to get out the door, I wouldn’t even know which way to turn.

     The thundering of my heart only continued to accelerate as he returned to my line of sight. The fire flickered against one side of his face and I shrunk back against the table leg, ready to run if I must, and fight if I had to.     

     He pursed his lips and looked me over for a moment, shaking his head as though he found something unsatisfactory. I raised my chin in response, beginning to feel the weakness in my shoulders and arms. The battle had left its mark on me in more ways than one.

    Moving faster than I expected, he reached me and I forced myself to stay put. If he was going to hurt me, then I wanted to show him I wasn’t afraid. As I glared back at him, he seemed amused.

     He squatted until he was level with me. His eyes were ice, storming gray clouds of sweeping satisfaction churning in his gaze. Dark locks of hair fell beneath his ears, brushed back as though he often ran his hands through it. His jaw hung loose, his lips parted and he tilted his head to the side, stirring the dark mass.

     When he reached behind my back toward my arms, I felt my breath catch within my throat. The hint of sweet wine on his breath was overpowering when I was this close and the muscles in my neck strained to avoid touching his chest. His fingers worked quickly, their iciness brushing my wrists every now and again, until my hands broke free. The immediate relief was wonderful, but the closeness of his body was too much for me to relax.

     Pulling my arms in front of my body, he kept his fingers encircled around my wrists. I trembled, but remained focused on his face, even though he never glanced up.

     Suddenly, his blades shot forth from his forearms and I muffled a cry, which sounded like a whimper, around the gag. One side of his mouth lifted for a mere moment, breaking his calm façade.

     The blades flashed in the light of the flames and I knew my eyes were wide in terror. As I looked at them, something didn’t seem quite right.

     “Just a precaution.” His voice startled me and he began working at the cuffs covering my hands. He said the words as though they were a balm to calm my fears, but I knew better. He was challenging me, seeing if I had enough control to force my body to do what my mind told it to.

     Shifting even closer, he edged the cuffs off of my fingers. When my skin was free of the metal restraints, I immediately felt the difference. Being forced to withhold my blades and having to control my instincts were two entirely different things. My brow furrowed in concentration, as my fingers trembled in reaction to his near presence. Focused on stilling them, I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of something else. My heart pounded in my ears, but slowly the shaking stilled and I was able to lift my eyes back to his.

     “That’s better.” He flashed me the grin I had become so used to seeing in the past. His blades were still drawn and I was certain he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against me. “What do we have here?”

     His hand reached forward and I shrunk back, as his blades came closer to my body. He grasped my wrist and pulled it toward him. What was left of my heart, leapt into my throat when he pulled my dagger out of its sheath. Somehow in the heat of the battle, I had forgotten to use it.

     He held it up to the light and I was momentarily proud of the glint off the steel. It wasn’t until he turned to look at the hilt that my body shifted, my hands beginning to tremble again. “How sweet.” His eyes roved over the carved merfolk tails, his words suggesting anything but.

     I glared at him, and when at last he met my gaze, I tried not to blanch. There was complete satisfaction in his eyes, as though I had already given him everything he wanted. The very idea of it was revolting.    

     “Now,” he said, stalling as he placed my dagger within his belt. “Don’t scream.”

     He reached forward again. This time I didn’t shudder away from his blades as he grasped the gag in my mouth and pulled on it with little ceremony. My jaw seemed to snap shut after bearing down on it for so long and there was an immediate soreness along the sides of my mouth. Coughing, I raised my eyes back to his, very aware of his presence and the fact I was free of all bondage. Once again, I had the feeling he was challenging me.

     I wasn’t innocent of what would happen here. Bolrock had shared the horrifying memories of what he had done, under Morven’s command, to break Patrick’s will. Patrick, himself, had given me a glimpse into the pain he had endured while in the dungeon, and I had seen the result of it engraved into the flesh of his back. 

     Swallowing heavily, I knew this was going to take more courage than I had ever had before. Bolrock had tried to break me and had lost. I would keep my mind focused on that.

     “I will fight you,” my words were soft, but spoken with profound clarity. I was surprised by the unwavering pride in them.

     His grin returned. It irked me when he didn’t respond. His gaze slipped from my face, traveling along my body and back up. His brow had furrowed each time he saw where one of his Hyven soldiers had cut me with their blades. A part of me hoped he was taking note of the strength I had, but something inside me doubted that was the case.

     “I can do what he did,” I declared, nearly breathless. I didn’t have to tell him who I was speaking of. There were no secrets between us now.

     For a moment, he stared back at me and just when his eyes kindled with something feverish, he drew it back, stretching to his full height.

     “We’ll see.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a small bulge appearing for a moment. Turning suddenly, he spun on his heel and left the chamber.

     His words hung in the air, long after he retreated.

     I was left to my thoughts, and as the images of what had happened outside these walls piled up with what I knew was coming, a cold sweat broke out over my brow.

    
Keep it together, Lissie.
I shook all over and finally allowed my blades to shoot forth, but for the first time since I had them, they made me feel powerless.

     Shaking my head, I leaned back against the table.

    
How did you endure this?
I thought. Even now wondering what he was thinking, knowing I wasn’t with him, made the trembling return. What had happened when he realized I wasn’t there?

     I could only imagine the anger.

_______________

Time became something I no longer knew. I remembered when I used to know it. There had always been ways of acknowledging the passing minutes or seconds, but there was no way of truly being aware of it in here. The fire had long since burned out and with it, all light had disappeared.