Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(86)

“I knew it!” From the end of the hall, Hurrok shrieked with joy. “I knew it was her!”

Altan had been so careful to keep my identity secret the first time. And now . . . Now he didn’t care. Now he knew the Luminary Council wouldn’t come back for me.

Now I was nothing.

Altan laughed as he walked away, keys jangling in his fingers. But at the cells next to mine, he slowed his steps just a fraction and glanced in. “You two, as well? We’re going to have so much fun together.”

Then he was gone.

His spell released.

I staggered backward and lifted my fingers to my cheek, like I might be able to wipe away the contamination of his hands. But I couldn’t even touch my own skin; I didn’t want to feel the rough line of Elbena’s retribution.

A sob of misery choked out of me, but I wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not when I needed my strength the most.

So I just whispered, “I’m back,” and let my hands fall to my sides. My voice sounded strange, pulled sideways because of the cut; I couldn’t open my mouth very wide without feeling like I might tear it open. “I’m back,” I said again.

Back on Khulan. Back in the Pit. Back in my cell.

Back in my own filthy misery and memories that fizzled to the surface with every passing minute.

My cell was the same as before. Small. Dim. Disgusting. Three walls. One grated door. One bed that doubled as a bench, and one sewage hole. It was almost enough to make me wish the voyage to Khulan had been longer, but we’d made it back in eight days—same time as it took to get to Bopha.

All totaled, I’d been away from the Pit for eighteen days. And now Hristo was here, in the cell next to mine. Ilina was next to him.

I could tell who was where by the muffled grunts—Hristo was testing the bars of his door, but the metal gave only a weak rattle in response. After five more clatters, he kicked the grille. Heavy footsteps suggested he backed away, but I could imagine him glaring at the door, biding his time before he tried again.

I wished Ilina were the one closer to me. Maybe, if we tried hard enough, we could reach between the bars and touch fingertips.

Or maybe that would be dumb, since it was my fault we were all here to begin with. I should have let them take me out of the Shadowed City when they were ready.

But no. I’d protested. And now we were all three in the Pit, and my face had been sliced open, ensuring Elbena and the Luminary Council would never have need of me again.

I wasn’t exactly the smartest person in this cellblock, but I probably wasn’t the stupidest, either. I knew what this meant.

We were never.

Ever.

Getting out.

Altan would see to that.

“Yes, yes,” muttered Gerel. “You’re back. Hopebearer.” She was sitting cross-legged in her cell, her glare like steel. “I knew you were dangerous.”

My gaze dropped to the floor.

“I see you brought friends.”

“Not on purpose.” My voice shook.

“I should hope not, but I suppose I don’t really know you, do I, Mira Minkoba?” She glanced toward Aaru’s cell, and a vision of his back filled my mind. Turned away. Not looking at me.

Hating me, probably.

“I thought it was better if no one knew.” I bundled my hands inside my dress. It wasn’t the gold-and-white gown I’d worn to the ill-fated state dinner, but a simpler thing of pale blue cotton with nacre buttons down the front. The other was probably sitting in a trash heap now, covered in my blood.

“Better for you,” Gerel said. “The rest of us? Well, what did it matter if we got hurt because of our association with you?”

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Great job.” Again, she glanced at Aaru’s cell. “You know, he hasn’t spoken since they dragged him out of here with you. He hasn’t spoken one word.”

The memory of Aaru’s scream flooded me. Then the darkness, the silence, and the way he’d been unable to make sound come out of his mouth. I remembered him shaping my name on his lips—and nothing happening. His voice had been shredded into a useless memory, but he should have regained it by now.

Right?

“He hasn’t even gone to work like you planned,” Gerel went on. “He couldn’t stand up for more than a decan because of the wounds on his feet.”

My stomach dropped.

“This is your fault. Altan and the others might have been the ones to do the actual harm, but it never would have happened without you. They knew you liked him, so they tortured him to hurt you. It could have just as easily been me, you know? It probably should have been. I could have handled it better. But then, they knew that, too.” With those venomous words still stinging through the air, Gerel climbed to her feet and turned her back on me.

A moment later, Ilina said, “You were right, Mira. These people were absolutely worth trying to rescue.”

I hugged myself as a pale whine forced its way up my throat.

Diagonally from me, Chenda was standing at her door, leaning around to get a look at Ilina, Hristo, and finally me. Her cheeks were sunken and her eyes hidden in dark circles. Even the copper tattoos seemed dulled.

Once, she’d been radiant. Now, she was muted. A candle burned down and drowning in its own wax.

“I went to Bopha,” I told her. “I saw Dara and the Shadow Spires and the High Tower.”