A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(4)

“How would they know that?” Ressfu said. “These shifters weren’t planned for.”

“Not these shifters, no, but his highness almost always brings back some shifters from that kingdom, doesn’t he? And he always sends them around this way to get cleaned up. Right?”

It didn’t sound like he was entirely sure of what he was saying. Still, the words pinged around inside my head. Were some of the people from my kingdom—maybe even my village!—down in that dungeon?

Heart pounding, I waited as Luru argued for a moment longer before two demons stepped out of the crowd and roughly grabbed him.

“I’ll go around!” Luru hollered as they marshaled him down a step, into the doorway. “I’m fast! I run fast! The officers like me. I’ll just go— No!”

They lowered him. He pulled up his thin tail and bent his legs, suspended above the blackness.

“No. Please,” Luru pleaded.

“Drop him,” Ressfu said.

Luru started screaming and writhing as his captors released him over what was surely a staircase. He dropped down squirming, hit at an awkward angle, and screams turned into painful grunts and then screams again as he rolled down the stairs.

“Coward,” someone spat.

Sonassa laughed. “You think you would’ve approached the situation with more decorum, do you? I didn’t see you volunteering.”

A few others snickered.

“We’re good,” Ressfu said, motioning everyone on.

The two demons already at the opening descended the stairs one at a time, darkness swallowing them as they went.

The demons holding me started forward, jostling me to keep up even though I wasn’t resisting. They got to the mouth of the doorway.

“Wait,” Ressfu said, eyeing my face. His mouth curled into a sinister grin. “You got lucky, dragon. You must know it. What will make you squeal, eh? I like to watch your kind quiver.”

The two beside me chuckled darkly.

Ressfu reached for me, taking my arm in a clawed grip and jerking me toward the mouth of the stairs. Darkness covered what lay beneath—the kind of thick, impenetrable darkness that suggested magic was at work.

The demon’s breath smelled like dead things. “Are your kind bred to feel no fear? Let’s see.”

He shoved me out over the lip of the doorway and into nothingness. Gravity snagged at me immediately, yanking me down.

Protect your head, my dragon thought-hollered, blasting me with power. The sweet fire filled me up and rushed through my blood. My senses heightened and my thought process sped up as blackness washed over me, cutting out my sight. It was clearly magically induced.

I closed my eyes so it wouldn’t distract me, focusing instead on my other senses and the need to survive. Pungent aromas assaulted me, vomit and piss and decay wrapped in a musty scent like mold. I twisted and bent, making sure my first point of contact would be my side. A moment later, my hip hit a hard corner, half on and half off my sword scabbard. My upper body slammed down on stone steps.

I grunted and tucked, wrapping my hands around my head, forming a shape as close to a ball as I could manage.

Hang on, folks, we’re about to do a little acrobatics, I thought desperately, speaking to my imaginary audience the way I always did under dire circumstances. My dragon must have felt the pressure, because she didn’t call me an idiot.

I slid a little before the momentum lifted my feet and threatened to send me the rest of the way down on my head. My dragon continued to beat power into me, pulling it from Nyfain’s dragon. Even all this distance away, we could still feel each other through the bond. It would play hell on Nyfain’s nerves, knowing I was in trouble and he couldn’t come to my aid, but for now I’d take what I could get.

The added power dulled the ache of the first landing, lessening the feel of stone scraping off skin. I tucked in harder, angling, and my bottom half flipped over the top. My ankle struck a step, and agony shot up my leg as my other foot caught. It was now my upper body’s turn to fly over the lower. I was out of control. Careening.

Metal tinkled beside me and then below. My sword had somehow gotten loose and was now racing me to the bottom. Fantastic. As if I needed one more thing to worry about.

My other ankle smashed into a step. Crack. Incredible pain filled my world, forcing out a cry. Broken ankle, probably. Fractured, at least.

The fall seemed to go on forever, the pain threatening to overwhelm me with each agonizing bounce, each jostling of my newly busted ankle.

A breathless few moments later, my upper body crashed onto something somewhat soft. My legs didn’t fare so well, though, smashing into the stone landing with enough force to send hot sparks of pure anguish racing up my body.

With my eyes still squinted shut, I sucked in a shuddering breath. I allowed one small tear to track across my pounding cheek. At least it didn’t feel like anything was sticking into me. I must’ve missed the sword.

The world stopped spinning, and wet warmth seeped into my hair. I blinked my eyes open, afraid to move lest I jar my ankle, and looked at rough-hewn walls around me, not illuminated but not magically coated in darkness. My dragon’s ability to see in the dark was strong enough for me to make out my miserable surroundings.

“What the fuck was he thinking?” I recognized that deep voice from above. Govam, they’d called him.

He grabbed my arms, unceremoniously hoisting me up. My foot caught on something and dragged over it, my busted ankle screaming at me. My sides ached, my back pounded, and my body was covered in stings from where I’d scraped stone. But I was alive. I’d made it down. “He was worried about her losing a leg, but then he threw her down the fucking steps? He could’ve killed her.”