Thrallmagic: Chapter 26

Chapter 26

I reach out my hands in front of me, cupping tiny balls of flame to light the way. There are stacks and stacks of bones on either side of me, and skulls peer out as at us at regular intervals. Someone grumbles from the back of the group, and I stifle the biting comment that rises to my lips.

Arianna coughs, losing her balance for a moment and knocking me off of my feet. The fire disappears as my concentration breaks, and pain shoots up my knees and wrists as I catch myself. There are two long scrapes on my arm, probably from a bone that’s been fastened to the ground, and blood wells out of them slowly. Alexander’s voice rises from somewhere to my left. I blink in the darkness, trying to make his form out, but my eyes meet nothing but the unyielding blackness that presses in around us.

“What happened? Why is there no light?” He sounds confused, but there’s a hint of fright beneath that, and I suppress a smile at his obvious discomfort.

“Nothing happened. All that happened is that I fell. Let me get up, and we’ll be on our way.” I say it as calmly as I can, not wanting to frighten anybody. I’m not frightened, exactly, but I try to keep myself from thinking about malicious spirits bent on vengeance. I push myself up, but I lose my balance again in the pitch black. As I teeter, I reach out a hand to the wall to steady myself.

Whatever I’ve grasped doesn’t hold my weight, and I shriek as it crumbles beneath my hand, bringing down whatever’s on top of it. A chorus of voices erupts in the small tunnel, but I can’t distinguish anything from the crashing of what I hope are just bones. A thick cloud of dust has settled on the air, and I cough, gagging as I think of what I’m inhaling.

When silence settles again, I stand, careful not to touch anything. A groping hand touches my cheek, and I flinch.

“Is that you, Ria? Are you alright?” Lindon’s voice echoes in the small tunnel, amplifying the worry and concern apparent in his voice.

I touch his hand reassuringly, surprised at how cold it is. “I’m fine, Lin. Is everyone else alright?”

Arianna and Alexander reply promptly, and I heave a sigh of relief. Conjuring a ball of tightly controlled flame in my palm again, I look to see the havoc I’ve wreaked on the catacomb. Thanking the gods that I haven’t brought the tunnel crashing down on our heads, I kneel, seeing a streak of red where the bones have come down. I reach my hand in, and pull out something wrapped in red cloth. Careful not to let the flames anywhere close to the thick damask, I send the ball of flame to the ceiling, expanding it until it lights the entire area.

“What is that?” Arianna marvels at my find, stepping closer and bending down to get a better look.

I hesitate to speak, torn between wanting to unfold the cloth and see what’s inside and continuing and opening it once I get to my chambers. Finally, my better judgement wins out, and I pick the bundle of cloth up.

“We don’t have the time to inspect this closely, and if it’s something dangerous, there are better places to open it than a tunnel with no exit for miles.” I let myself take one last, lingering look at it before I wrap it in my cloak and hand it to Lindon.

The catacombs are cold, and I shiver as I lead the way, careful not to bump into any more walls. The cuts on my arm sting in the cold air, and I press them to my blouse, resigning myself to burning it when I get home.

We walk for what seems like eternity in the dull gleam of my fireballs before the exit appears. I sense it, and sigh in relief as we catch sight of it. The bottoms of my feet, even enclosed in thick woolen socks and the soft leather of my boots still ache and smart where blisters have been rubbed into my tender skin.

As we gather at the tiny trapdoor, I press my ear to the rough wood to see if I can hear anyone near us. Not able to hear anything except the wind howling from the storm, I nod to everyone, and we unlatch and open the trapdoor as quietly as we can. It still creaks as we push it out of the way, but we move silently.

Lindon boosts me up partway, and I clamber out ungracefully, shivering as the snow on the ground sticks to me. Arianna rolls out next, grimacing and brushing snow off of herself, and then Alexander. Lindon pulls himself out last, and I press myself into the shadows of the nearby wall, my heart drumming loudly in my chest as I try not to be seen by any nosy nobles in high-up apartments.

Arianna nods to me in farewell and silently slips into the shadows, her figure retreating toward the castle gate. I shiver in the dress I wear, clutching the bundle of cloth I hold closer to my chest. The images of a steaming bath and a crackling fire flash through my mind, filling me with longing. Glancing over at me, Lindon frowns, then takes off his jacket and tries to hand it to me.

Don’t be an idiot. How am I supposed to explain having your jacket to my ladies-in-waiting tomorrow morning? I raise an eyebrow at Lindon.

I’ll take it back when we get inside, he replies.

Alexander shoots worried glances at us before nudging us closer to the wall.

I glare at Lindon. Stop arguing, Lindon, and go find the Hunt. You have a captive to persuade. As I try not to flinch at my own unfeelingness, Lindon sighs, sets his shoulders, and scales the wall grimly, a mere shadow in a world of swirling snow and howling winds. Straining my hearing, I catch a soft thump on the other side of the wall as Lindon hits the ground.

A weight seems to lift off of my shoulders, and I nod farewell to Alexander. He starts to bow, but then his eyes go wide with shock as he catches sight of something- or someone- behind me. He dives behind a nearby bush, and I whirl around, heart pounding in my chest.

A dark figure looms behind me, their face indiscernible in the swirls of snow. I take a step backward and stumble over a bump in the path, falling directly into a patch of light from a lamp. The person strides forward, and when they stop in front of me, I look up, catching a glimpse of cruel grey eyes.

Why is Blathen here?

I stop breathing for a moment- at least until he reaches down, grasps my forearms, and pulls me to my feet. My breath catches in my throat and comes in little gasps. The snow has seeped into the cloth of my dress, and I shiver from fear and cold. The bundle of damask is nowhere to be seen, and I thank the Triad that it is hidden from Blathen.

His lips curl disgustedly as he glares down at me. “What are you doing here, at this time of night?” The words are spat at me, and I swallow as I draw myself up to my full height.

As I rub my arms to bring some warmth back into them, I work to mask my feelings. When I’ve reached some semblance of calm, I reply, “I- ah- I was out in the city. Is that not allowed?” I fill my voice with disinterest and feign boredom as I adjust my dress. Still, my palms sweat, and I swallow, trying to dispel the lump in my throat.

“You were out. In the city. In the middle of a snowstorm.” His voice is filled with disbelief, and he starts to circle me, brows furrowed. “Doing what?”

I swallow again, clearing my throat. The wind whips a strand of hair against my face, and I leave it there, my fingers too cold to do anything. “I just- needed a respite from the court.”

His eyes flick over me, and I try not to cringe. “And you went where in the city?”

“A- a tavern.” I manage to stumble over the words somehow.

The sneer comes back, but his eyes are angry now, and I lean away from him. He glances at my sodden dress as he pauses in front of me and says, “Dressed like that.”

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out, so I nod yes vigorously. To my utter despair, tears well in my eyes. You will not cry in front of him. You will not. I blink them away, hoping he hasn’t noticed.

By now, even he looks cold and miserable, and his cloak is damp. With a quick glance, around, he clasps my arm and starts dragging me toward the castle. I wince, and try to shake free, but he only holds me tighter, so I try to lengthen my stride to match his, so that he wouldn’t pull on my shoulder.

When we finally duck through a side entrance, my shoulder aches, and my arm throbs angrily where he’s held me. Looming shadows dance over the walls from the wan candles that flicker in tiny sconces.

“To your chambers, Rionach.” His voice is curt, and filled with rage. For a brief moment, I consider running away from him, and hiding for the night, but one look at the furious expression frozen over his face has me meekly scurrying up the steps. I drip water as I walk, but it is warm inside, at least, and I slowly stop shivering.

When we reach my chambers, Blathen opens the door and roughly pushes me in, kicking the door shut behind him. He removes his sodden cloak and hangs it up by the fire- my fire- and glares at me. He's surprisingly dry underneath, and when he pours himself a glass of wine and sits down in an armchair, I edge closer to the fire, trying to shake the wet chill from my bones.

He studies me carefully as he drains his glass of wine before saying, "So, my rebellious wife-to-be, what were you doing outside tonight?"

I shrug, trying my best to mask my sudden fear. "I went for a walk in the city, and it began snowing when I was outside of the castle gates. I just got in."

He laughs slowly, but there is no amusement in it, only anger. "I'm not such a fool as to believe that, Rionach." My name on his lips sends a shudder up my back, and I press myself closer to the wall- and further away from him.

When he leans forward, my heart skips a beat, though I manage to keep my face neutral. Standing up, he begins to pace, muttering to himself. I pull myself up slowly, starting to edge toward the door. Blathen whirls around, face pale beneath his tanned skin. "You- don't move." As he turns and begins to pace once more, I catch his mutterings. "Damned whores, all of them. But what do I do, what do I do to her?" He growls, looking up at me.

"Are you quite sure you weren't... meeting someone, princess? Your darling Unseelie prince, perhaps?" Blathen scoffs at that. "But no, you're only friends, isn't that true?" Narrowing his eyes, he asks, "Or perhaps you were meeting Prince Alexander. Would you dare do that, Rionach? The son of your worst enemy?"

I curl my lip and look down my nose at him, driving away the fear I know is showing on my face. "I'll do anything I want to. All you are is a half-rate bastard prince- the son of a whore and a spoiled child besides."

He draws his hand back to hit me, and I flinch away, shutting my eyes instinctively. When the blow never comes, I peek through my lashes. Blathen's expression is calm again, though a storm lurks just beneath the surface.

"We'll see about that, then. I'll make you hurt, Rionach, until you never dare say those words to me again." His voice, filled with eagerness at his anticipation of my pain, makes the hair at the back of my neck prickle.

I swallow my fear, gulping to try and get my voice back. "I was only out for a walk, Blathen. I have no lover. I'm tired, I'm wet, and I'm cold. Get out of my chambers." As I speak, my voice grows stronger, and my confidence heightens. "We'll talk in the morning."

When he strides towards me, taking huge steps that close the distance between us in a heartbeat, I shrink back, confidence forgotten.

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch." His voice is a hiss, and he rests his arms on either side of my head. His breath mingles with mine in front of us, and I turn my face away in disgust. "I saw the way you looked at him during the hunt. But you are mine, princess, mine."

I glare at him, hot anger making my heart pound as I clench my teeth together in an effort to keep from spewing a string of curses. "Yours? How... sweet. But I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I am not yours, and I will never be yours. You can wed me- you can bed me- you can slap me around as much as you want to, but I will never be yours."

His lip curls, and he bares his teeth at me. He moves so quickly I don't see his hand coming, only realizing that he's hit me when my head slams against the wall and a burning sting spreads across my cheek. "Even if you will never be mine, princess, your country will be."

I clench my fists at my side, balling them up in the damp fabric of my dress, to keep myself from swinging at him. Think of Kerissa. She needs you. Don't let her die, even if only because you need her to continue the succession. Taking a deep breath, I lift my chin up.

"You'll get this country when I am dead and cold, and turned to ashes and dust." I stare him down, daring him to strike me again. My palms itch to summon fire, to burn Blathen to a crisp that I can dust off my hands and wash off my skin.

A sadistic smile spreads across his face, and he steps back. "I'm arranging that, Rionach. Soon enough."