Fuse, page 17
“Sorry. I meant to break it.” There would be no remorse on her end.
“You’ll regret that, elf.” He slowly rose to his feet, gripping his neck like his head might roll off.
“You’ve said that twice now, but still haven’t made good on your word.”
He walked to the door, moving his upper body as little as possible. “I will this time. Consider it a promise.”
Twenty
The door flew open, and Rune walked inside with two guards. Vengeance was as clear in his eyes as the sun on a cloudless day. His neck appeared to be restored to its previous capacity, but Rune hadn’t forgotten the pain it caused him. This time, he might kill her.
“So glad you could join me.” Bored by him as she always was, her voice came out hollow.
“Grab her.” Rune unbuttoned his jacket then threw it on the floor.
Cora panicked. “I don’t think so.” She kicked one guy in the ankle and made him buckle to his knee. When the adrenaline kicked in, she had bursts of newfound energy. She jumped to her feet and kneed the other guard right in the groin. “I hope you’ve already had your children.” She kneed him again for good measure.
Rune gritted his teeth and spoke under his breath. “Absolutely ridiculous. She’s a goddamn woman.”
“Just a woman?” Cora grabbed the guard cupping his balls and shoved him into Rune. They both fell to the floor in an ungraceful pile.
That was when she noticed the door.
It was open.
She could escape.
This was her chance.
She punched the guard next to her before she jumped over the tangled mass of Rune and the other guard.
“No!” Rune shoved his comrade off. “Don’t let her get away!”
She sprinted as hard as she could, ignoring the blinding pain in her legs and everywhere else. Her lungs burned because they couldn’t hold the same amount of oxygen as they used to. Nothing worked the way it once did.
But that didn’t matter.
She had to get out of there. Failure wasn’t an option. It was either succeed or die.
“Get her!” Rune’s voice echoed down the hallway. Torches lit the walkway, and the blue stone stretched deep into the castle. When a guard approached at the very end of the hall, she darted to the left.
“Run.” She coached herself to keep going, to resist the fatigue and pain. “Come on.”
She grabbed a torch off the wall with her bound hands and kept running. She had no idea where she was going, whether she was up high near the top or in a dungeon near the bottom. She found a window and peered into the night.
She was at the top.
She kept going and tried to find stairs. She was even willing to jump out of a window. Her feet thudded against the stone floor, and her breathing echoed in the small enclosure.
“Let her escape, and I’ll kill all of your children.” Rune’s voice erupted from behind her. “I’m not kidding.”
She pushed herself harder and kept going.
The tower bells started to ring, piercing her ears. She was directly beneath one at the top of the castle. When she finally found a circular stairway, she took the steps two at a time.
Guards emerged from the bottom of the stairwell, torches and swords in hand. When they spotted her at the top, they stopped, momentarily appearing to be just as frightened as she was.
“Damn.” She turned around and retreated.
“There!” Rune and his guards were closing in on her from the way she’d come. “I’m going to gut you like a fish.”
Panic rose in her throat, and so did the tears. She didn’t fear the oncoming punishment but rather the confinement she would be returned to. She could taste the freedom on her tongue.
Now it was about to be taken away again.
She was grabbed by the neck from behind, and her airway was immediately restricted. Instinctively, she shoved the torch behind her and pressed the flames into the guard’s face.
“Agh!” He fell back, gripping his skull as his face was charred. He toppled down the stairs, taking a few guards with him.
Her hope resurged.
She headed back down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she jumped over the guards and sprinted once more. She was one level down and only had a few more to go. Before she turned the corner, an external force pressed against her skull. A wall of solid marble slammed against her, forcing her to stay in place, no matter how hard she tried to move. Her skull began to feel hot, burning to ash.
She clenched her jaw and tried not to scream. The pain was excruciating, just as it had been the last time. Unable to move or even think, she was forced to remain still. Slowly, Shadow appeared out of the darkness, his palm raised directly at her.
The Shaman.
Cora had never felt so much hatred in her entire life. This foul creature had put her in this dungeon. He was a coward, hiding behind magic to do what he wanted. If only she’d had a second poisoned arrow, she could have taken him down as well.
His magical strength kept her in place, but somehow, she found the ability to move her lips. “I’m glad I killed your brother. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
His hand shook before he made a fist.
She fell to the floor as her body gave out. Her skull was being pressed in on all sides. At any moment, it would be crushed, and her brain would boil out of her ears.
“Enough.” Rune gripped her by the arms and yanked her to her feet. “I’ve got it from here.”
Shadow kept his hand raised, exerting his full force to snap the life right out of her.
Cora screamed so loud she couldn’t hear anything else.
“Stop.” Rune’s voice carried all of his authority. “I need her alive.”
Hesitantly, Shadow dropped his hand. His hood faced her for a few more seconds before he abruptly turned on his heel and left. Just as his name suggested, he disappeared into the darkness.
Cora’s head dropped forward when the torture stopped.
“You’re going to get the beating of a lifetime.” He gripped her by the hair and dragged her up the stairs. When she didn’t move fast enough, he shoved her. “You really thought you’d get out of here? Stupid girl.”
She threw her foot back and kicked him.
Rune caught her leg then shoved her hard against the floor. “When will you ever learn?” He grabbed her by the back of the neck and dragged her to her feet once more.
The last thing Cora wanted was to return to that cell. She had no idea how much time had passed or how long she would be confined to the prison. If they refused to kill her until she talked, then she would be there for a very long time.
The thought made her want to collapse.
Windows were etched into the stone wall, bigger than the one she had in her solitary cell. It was at least twenty feet down to the bottom, and the fall would surely kill her. The second her body hit the pavement, that would be the end.
She went for it.
Elbowing Rune in the nose, she dashed to the window.
“No, you don’t.” He wiped the blood from his nose then snatched her just as she crawled onto the windowsill. “You don’t get that luxury.” He wrapped his arm around her throat and constricted her air as he dragged her back to her cell. Without enough oxygen, she constantly gasped for breath.
Rune returned her to the cell and dropped her. “Let’s not repeat that. Maybe it was fun for you, but it gave us a headache.” He rolled up his sleeves then cracked his knuckles. “Hold her.”
Cora didn’t care about anything anymore. The fight inside her had vanished like a blown-out candle. Nothing mattered at that point. She was an empty vessel, devoid of anything—even a soul.
The guards held her upright and forced her face upward, making it visible to Rune.
He massaged his knuckles with an eager look on his face, the blood lust heavy in his eyes. Then he prepared his right hook and slammed his fist into her face, making blood fly from her mouth.
She felt the pain but didn’t concentrate on it.
Rune hit her again, punching her right in the ribs. A distinct crack sounded in the cell. “Looks like I broke a few.”
Cora didn’t make a sound. She refused to give him any kind of satisfaction.
Rune beat her like a punching bag, laying blows across her face and body. Blood oozed from every opening and dripped down her skin. Bones were cracked and muscle was torn. Her heartbeat grew fainter with every second.
Death, come for me.
Twenty-One
“If we steal a ship, we’ll have to move quickly.” Bridge stood beside Flare in the shadow of the outpost building. Massive ships bobbed in the harbor, riding the tide as it moved in and out. The moon was bright overhead, reflecting off the black water.
Flare scanned the harbor, noting the guards on the tops of the walls surrounding the city. “Even if I kill these guys, it’ll only buy us a day. The ocean is a big place, but they’ll find us eventually.”
“Then what do you propose?” Bridge leaned against the wall and remained hidden in the shadows. “Give up?”
“I said no such thing.” Flare’s eyes were glued to the wandering guard. He held a crossbow in his hands as he paced his station. “But this plan might not work. If they chase us and we never find the island, we’ll be food for the sharks.”
“I guess.”
“Besides, it’ll be difficult to commandeer a ship of that size. We’ll need more than two men.”
“We can steal a smaller boat.”
Flare pondered their next step quietly. His arms were crossed over his chest as he thought through their next move. “We can buy a smaller ship and leave without any problems.”
Bridge shook his head like the idea was preposterous. “We don’t have any gold.”
“No.” Flare pulled up his hood so his face was hidden. “But we can steal some.”
Bridge walked up to the guard with an empty bottle of rum in his hand. “Eh, sir. Did you see a hot little number come this way?” He slurred his speech and staggered in a drunken stupor. “Because I’ve been looking for her.” He held up his bottle. “And when I find her…” He staggered again.
The guard didn’t draw his weapon or seem suspicious at all. “Sounds like you can’t hold on to your woman.”
“Who can?” Bridge threw his arms down. “Just when you get a hold of them, they slip away.” He staggered on the cobblestone road and fell to the ground. “Woe is me.”
“You alright?” The guard hunched down then grabbed him by the arm. “You should head on home. The streets aren’t safe for an intoxicated man.”
Flare emerged from the shadows then slit open the guard’s coin purse. He shoved all the gold into his pockets then returned to his hiding place in the darkness. He released a quiet pigeon’s coo.
“You’re right.” Bridge immediately got to his feet when he heard the signal. “I really should lie down… Have a good evening, Your Highness.” He held up the bottle as he moved down the street.
When he was out of sight, he turned into the alleyway. “You there?”
Flare emerged from the other side. “I got it.”
“How much do we have now?”
“Two hundred gold coins.”
Bridge’s eyes widened. “Why did I ever become a historian? It pays nothing compared to that.”
“Picking pockets is no treat. I just make it look easy.” Flare had learned the trade a long time ago, and with his dragon companion, he was able to move silently.
“It looks like we have more than enough for a boat,” Bridge said. “Let’s head to the boat master at the harbor. I’m sure he’ll hand one over without asking any questions for a price like that.”
Only suspicious people operated under cover of darkness. “We’ll wait until morning.”
“What do we do until then?”
“Sleep.” Flare moved to the ground and leaned his back against the wall. “I’ll keep the first watch.”
Bridge settled down on the ground. “I hate sleeping on stone. I miss my bed.”
Flare chuckled. “You remind me of Cora.” His thoughts were on her constantly, hoping she made it to her destination without any problems. She was a strong woman who could handle herself, but sometimes, the paranoia would sink in. As much as he hated to admit it, he cared for her.
He never wanted something bad to happen to her.
After the boat master was paid, they headed down the dock until they reached their medium-sized ship. The sun had barely crested the horizon, and the guards were switching shifts.
“It already has fishing poles, so we’ll be able to find lunch on the journey.” Bridge explored the inside of it, checking the integrity of the masts and the wheel. Fifteen people could fit inside the boat easily, but only one man was needed to operate it. “There’s some water stowed under here, but we’ll have to collect rainwater on the way.”
Flare hopped inside and drew up the masts. “It’s perfect. It’ll get us there in one piece.”
“And hopefully back in one piece.” Bridge untied the massive boat rope from the dock so they could shove off. “You know, if you weren’t a dragon, I never would have agreed to this.”
Flare chuckled. “I get that a lot—” He stopped in midsentence when a peculiar sound came to his mind. Twisted and warped, the broken voice was full of heartache—and hopelessness.
Death, come for me.
Bridge turned to Flare when he didn’t finish his words. “You alright?”
Flare heard the words again, sounding more feminine and familiar.
Death, come for me.
He’d heard that voice before, but he couldn’t identify it.
Bridge studied Flare with concern. “Flare—”
Flare held up his hand. “Silence.” He looked out to the horizon, feeling something deep in his core. There was a connection there, to something or someone. It reminded him of his relationship with the dragon, their ability to communicate with thoughts and feelings.
He closed his eyes and concentrated.
A man’s face emerged in his sea of vision, dressed in blood-red clothing. He was a soldier of the Steward of Easton. That was unmistakable. He was beating someone, on the verge of killing them. “Tell me what I want to know, Cora. The torture will stop.”
Blood pounded in Flare’s ears, and his entire body tensed with rage. His hands formed fists that cut into his skin. Every vein in his body expanded as adrenaline coursed through him. Bloody rage blurred his vision, making him see red spots in place of the blue sky. While the world was silent, a war raged inside him. Pain seared across his skin, and his heart turned black.
Instantly, he transformed into his dragon counterpart, becoming ten times bigger and stronger. His wings opened violently, prepared to carry him wherever he needed to go. His wing was still sore from the injury, but Flare didn’t notice it.
The dragon’s voice came into his head. She hurts.
Yes.
The same rage burned inside the beast. She cries.
Yes.
She must be saved.
Yes.
Bridge rolled to the side of the boat as it prepared to sink under the weight. “What the hell are you doing?” He gripped the edge so he wouldn’t fall into the water.
Sail to the hideaway. Both dragon and man spoke. I will meet you there.
Flare leaped up into the sky and used his powerful wings to propel himself high into the air. Keeping his identity a secret was negligible to the pain he felt in his heart. With a blood-curdling scream, he roared across the city, terrifying everything and everyone who heard it.
Then he flew to Easton, prepared to burn it to the ground.
Twenty-Two
Days passed without meaning.
Cora hurt everywhere. Two of her ribs were broken, her wrist was sprained, and dried blood caked her face. She wasn’t given the luxury of bathing. She was barely allowed to relieve herself.
She was still alive, but that wasn’t a good thing.
Just when Cora thought she was weak enough to pass into the void, she held on. Her spirit was gone and so was her hope, but somehow, she persevered. Every time she knocked on death’s door, death didn’t answer.
Where was he?
When the physical beating didn’t make a difference, they returned to the drowning chamber. When that didn’t work, Rune shoved bamboo sticks under her fingernails. No matter how excruciating it was, she never mentioned Flare’s name.
They didn’t intend to kill her, but it would happen eventually. Her body would give out somewhere down the road. She kept hoping for that day, praying for the sweet escape of something that most people fled from.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside her cell. The movement was slow, like the person had all the time in the world to get where they needed to go. “Has she said anything?” The powerful voice of the steward leaked through the bars of her chamber. He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper.
But Cora heard it.
“No.” Aggravated, Rune spat out his answer. “But she will.”
“It’s been weeks.”
It’d been weeks? The knowledge only made Cora more depressed. Her captivity felt like an eternity, not a few weeks.
“She’ll crack, Your Highness.” Despite Rune’s determination to make it happen, he didn’t sound confident.
“She’s stronger than that.” Awe was in his voice, but in a sinister way. “She’s part elf?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t seen an elf in a very long time.”
Cora remembered what Flare had said about the history of Anastille. The elves fled into their realm once the battle started to take a turn for the worse. If the steward had seen one before, that could only mean he was alive 400 years ago.
And it would mean he was fused with a dragon.
She swallowed the lump in her throat at the realization. He had the power to infiltrate her mind and detect her moods. If he opened his mind to hers and she accidentally allowed him to enter, he could manipulate her into getting the information he needed.
