A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(29)

“Of everything!” I gestured wildly at the bars surrounding me where I was held against my will in the most treacherous kingdom in Evendell. “Look what happens when you take one step out of your tiny, suffocatingly safe life!”

Why did I feel so guilty saying it out loud?

“Fair point, bird. Prison’s not the ideal result of adventure, I’ll give you that.”

I laughed hard—drained and frustrated and so, so tired. I heard a grunt from a cell farther back and quieted myself.

“All right, so maybe I traded one prison for another. I will say, at least I’m constantly learning here. There are herbs and medicines in that apothecary I’ve never even heard of, let alone seen in person.”

“Your positivity baffles me.”

I lifted a brow in question.

“The way you look at things. It’s just…” His hand disappeared in his dark locks. “Refreshing.”

I considered him. Perfect, dark hair curling over his forehead and down at the base of his neck. The tiniest bit of scruff along a jawline that rivaled jutting cliffs. Those clear, slate eyes. My heart was thrumming.

“What?” He said with a roguish grin. No. Not the teeth. The full smile was arresting. It was uncanny, seeing someone so stunning, so clearly powerful, so dangerous, share something as intimate as a smile. Knowing any attempt at a lie would be abysmal, I tried to cover with something honest.

“Just trying to understand you.”

His smile faded and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling in thought. Then he stood abruptly.

“Time for me to go.” He tried for lighthearted. “I promised you no trouble, right?”

I nodded, but struggled to find words.

He turned back to me before leaving. “Keep your chin up, bird. You’re not alone here.”

“Well, I will be, when you finally finish whatever it is that keeps you hanging around Shadowhold.”

I sounded so pathetic my toes curled inside my shoes.

But he just regarded me with those cursory eyes and an elegant smile. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

And with that, he slipped down the passageway like a shadow, and up the stairs into the night. I almost felt bad—I hadn’t told him that even if he was planning on staying here, I wasn’t.

I curled up in the corner. The journey ahead of me would be more dangerous and unpleasant than anything I had ever experienced. And that was if I even made it out tonight alive. I rolled to my side and wound myself into a ball, wishing I didn’t feel so afraid.





EIGHT


I awoke with a start at the bells that chimed midnight.

It was now or never.

My mind was still bathed in the fog of restless sleep, but adrenaline pumped steadily through my veins, forcing me up to my feet. Wrapping myself in the stranger’s fox fur, I tied my long hair back in a loose braid and made sure the pack was secured tightly to my hip. I didn’t need anything getting in my way if I had to run from something or someone.

I opened my cell door with a creak and swept my attention over the hallway dotted by crumbs of light from flickering lanterns—eerily silent and empty, as always. I tiptoed down the corridor and toward the spiral stairs. When I reached the bottom, I braced myself with a deep breath. It was a terrible plan. The worst plan anyone had ever tried in the history of the continent. I had no faith in it whatsoever, but it was all I had.

One more deep breath, then—

“Help!” I yelped upward.

My stomach threatened to crawl into my throat. I fisted and released my hands.

Silence stretched through the night.

“Hello? Help!” I yelled again.

A few grumbles from fellow prisoners, irked by the jarring disruption to their sleep.

But nothing else.

I called out one last time and then sprinted up the stairs until I reached the slatted wooden door of the dungeon. I held myself to the wall behind it and tried not to breathe.

I waited and waited, so long it felt like years were passing by.

My lungs were burning.

My heart—racing like the wings of a hummingbird.

I waited until the door pushed open, pinning me to the stone wall, and a guard still bleary with sleep sauntered right past me and down the stairs.

No air in or out of my lungs. None—

“Oi, shut up whoever you are,” he called down.

Once he cleared a full spiral, I slipped out and hurried into the night, never stopping to catch my breath.

The castle was frozen in a deep and silent slumber. I sped along the same path I had taken that first night I arrived, through the field, alongside the soldiers’ painted camps.

I wished I had known about Jaem earlier—once out of my cell, this wasn’t as hard as I thought it might be. If Jaem successfully got me through the Shadow Woods to Willowridge, I might just—

Voices rang into the night and I froze.

But it was just a few soldiers telling stories into the late hour beside dying, dancing firelight. My chest caved in with relief, and I kept moving, blanketed by darkness and staying close to the tents to keep out of sight. Carefully edging through mazes of sleeping soldiers, my back flush against canvas, peering around each corner before I turned. My slippers squashed in the cold, wet mud. I winced as icy water soaked between my toes.

Finally—I spied Jaem’s cart pulling up at the end of the dirt road ahead of me. His horse nickered softly, and I could just make out a wagon filled with dried meats and pelts. If I sprinted now, I would make it to the cart right before Jaem reached the main gates of the keep.