Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(85)

For effect, probably. Elbena liked effect.

And—apparently—shoving rags of dubious cleanliness into other people’s mouths.

I resisted the urge to spit the taste of dirt. That would not make me appear strong and capable, and I wasn’t sure I could do it, anyway, what with the gaping hole she’d left in my face. Instead, I pulled myself straight. “Let these two go. They have nothing to do with this.” Out loud, the words didn’t sound nearly as tough as they had in my head. But my throat was dry. My mouth was dry.

My cheek burned with the gash sliced through. And in the back of my head, all I could hear was Mother’s voice: What if it scars? What then? She’s ruined. Useless. Hideous.

I wanted to reach for my friends. Ilina would tell me we could hide it, and though I’d doubt hiding something that felt bigger than my entire head was possible, I’d pretend to believe her. Hristo would tell me it didn’t matter because I was still Mira Minkoba, though he would always look at it and see his failure.

I was the worst friend in the world for worrying about my appearance at a time like this. Because the truth was worse. We were all on the Chance Encounter. The four Luminary Guards loomed over us. And Elbena had a sinister smile that quirked up one corner of her mouth.

“Your friends were here to rescue you, weren’t they?” She phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t one. “I’m almost sorry your plan failed so quickly. It might have been entertaining to watch you run.”

I could imagine the scenario she envisioned: us fleeing the Shadowed City, her sending the Luminary Guards and local police after us, keeping us on the move until we were too exhausted to continue. I’d fall first, no doubt. Hristo and Ilina wouldn’t leave me behind, though. No, they’d carry me if necessary.

It would always be my fault that they were caught.

“Let them go and I won’t run. I won’t protest.” I hated begging, but if I didn’t do something, my friends would surely die.

She prowled closer to me and knelt. Her face twisted into a mask of sincerity and compassion. “Mira. This is not a negotiation. We won’t be making a deal. There’s no hope for you—or your friends. By all the gods, you’re so pathetic that I’m almost sorry to tell you the bad news.”

Dread clutched at my chest, and my fingers twitched—lightning strikes signaling the coming storm of panic. I knew what the news would be. I’d known since the moment I’d realized we were on the ship.

“I’m having you all separated, of course.” Elbena laced her fingers together and looked from Ilina to Hristo to me. “My dear. You’re going back to the Pit as soon as the tide comes in.”

“I know.” My throat squeezed, pinching the words.

“And so are your friends.”





PART FOUR


ARTICLES OF LIGHT





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT




“I SAVED YOUR CELL FOR YOU,” ALTAN SAID.

By the time I was paraded through the Heart of the Great Warrior, the Pit, and the first-level cellblock, I’d figured out that much.

We walked by Kason, who hated everyone. Varissa, who thought she was my mother. Kumas, who liked to sing. And Hurrok, who’d tried to kill me.

“What happened to your face?” My would-be murderer stared as I moved past. “You used to be so pretty.” When he grinned, it was with jagged, broken teeth. I couldn’t tell if he knew my identity.

If Aaru had told everyone my whole name.

If the alliances I’d made here were now over.

My heart slammed against my ribs, harder with every step. It seemed impossible for this shameful walk to hurt more than the last, but it did. My whole body ached with humiliation and grief.

When I reached Aaru’s cell, I caught only a glimpse of my silent neighbor. He sat on his bed, knees up to his chest, his back turned toward the door. Through his ragged shirt, I could see the ridges of his spine and ribs.

At my passing, he didn’t look up. He didn’t move as though he’d heard me or sensed my presence. He didn’t want to see me after what I’d done.

I touched the healing gash on my cheek, fresh shame pouring in. Maybe I didn’t want him to see me, either.

Altan shoved me into my cell and shut the door. The screech of metal on runners was achingly familiar. “See you in the morning, Fancy.” His gaze darted to my cut, all scabbed over and angry. “Well. Maybe not so fancy anymore. I’ll have to think of something else to call you.”

A fractured whine caught in my throat. Even Altan thought I was hideous.

He laughed, reached through the bars, and patted my injured cheek. And no matter how I wanted to turn my head or back away or just move, I couldn’t. He rooted me. Paralyzed me. And no matter how I told my legs to swing, or my feet to shuffle, I remained in one spot while his palm was near my skin.

My broken, scabbing skin.

I counted my own shallow breaths while I waited for this to stop. Six, seven, eight . . .

“How the high Hopebearer has fallen.”

Across the hall, Gerel’s head jerked up and her eyes went wide with shock. When our gazes met and she read the truth on my face, her surprise shifted to anger.

“That’s right.” Altan lifted his voice. “The Hopebearer is just a normal piece of slime like the rest of you. Filth.”