What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(17)

“That’s very reassuring, Monos. Thank you for that wonderful endorsement,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Caldris chuckled, the rat squelching as his body hit the ceiling of the cell. Caldris looked at his largely flattened toy in disappointment the next time he caught it, tossing it to the side and looking for another one.

“You aren’t going to die in here,” he said, rooting around in his cell.

In the time that had passed—which felt like an eternity but was impossible to know or measure without evidence of the sun rising and falling—his body had finally healed. Only the thinnest of scars remained on his throat. They were tiny blemishes in his Fae Mark that felt unforgivable to me.

I would skin the male who did it alive if I had it my way.

“Your wishful thinking does not make that true,” I snapped, pacing back and forth in the too-small cell that I couldn’t seem to escape. For once, my height worked to my advantage, allowing me to stand without having to bend forward. Caldris wasn’t so lucky, having to bend at the waist in order to fit in the cage when he stood.

He didn’t seem bothered, having spent his fair share of time in Mab’s dungeon over the course of his life. “Mab is far too curious to know what you are to allow you to die before she gets her answers,” he explained, a sad smile gracing his face. His words only served to confirm what I’d already learned from Monos, that what waited for me outside of the monotony of this cell was far worse than the threat of starvation.

“Lets me have a taste and I’ll tell her. Then we can eats,” Lozu said, his nose twitching happily as he stepped closer to me.

“If you bite me, I will tear the nose off your face, gnome,” I snarled.

His beard shifted as his lips pulled into the semblance of a smile. “Does you not want to know what you’re made of?” he asked, stomping his foot in frustration. “Lozu can tell you.”

“I am not even the slightest bit tempted to sacrifice part of my flesh to you so that you can chew on it long enough to tell me what I am,” I said, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. Even dealing with the conflicted feelings of wanting to know the truth of my heritage and not wanting the answer to be available to Mab, there had to be slightly less painful ways to uncover the truth than being eaten.

The gates of the dungeon clanged in the distance, signaling a guard coming to deliver the meal of gruel and hard bread I’d come to expect periodically. If I based it on the instinctive feeling of the moon rising, I would have estimated it came in the evening.

The guard who stepped up to the door of my cell wasn’t the typical male who delivered our food, and his arms were empty of the questionable sustenance I both dreaded and craved.

“Up,” he grunted, the keys to my cell dangling in his hands. He was the one who had waited for me in the throne room, who’d chained me up to await Mab’s punishment: Malachi.

“I’m quite comfortable,” I said, forcing a saccharine smile to my face as I leaned back on my elbows and lounged.

No matter where he meant to take me or for what, I knew well enough to know I didn’t want to go. Caldris got to his feet on the other side of the dungeon, leaning forward to glare through the bars of his cage.

“I will haul you out if I must,” Malachi argued, and I winced when I heard the sound of skin sizzling. A glance around his hulking form confirmed Caldris had touched the iron bars meant to contain him.

“Come on in and try then,” I teased, trying to ignore the way Caldris seethed at the taunt.

I glanced toward the shades of Lozu and Monos, realizing they’d made themselves scarce when Malachi showed his face, disappearing into the spirit realm to avoid the male who would harm them if he was able.

Why couldn’t the blasted gnome eat someone useful?

“Leave her alone, Malachi,” Caldris growled, the warning echoing with power in spite of the iron around us. It couldn’t quite hit in the same way it might have if it hadn’t been for the presence of the metal, but mine had in spite of that.

What the fuck?

“But we’re so looking forward to playing a little game with her. Mab wants to get to know her new daughter-in-law is all,” Malachi said, finally slipping the key into the hole of my cell gate.

His flesh burned when he grabbed hold of the door, shoving it to the side and leaving a distinct line of red, marred muscle where his skin had once been. The color was so vibrant in the cell that seemed devoid of all life and color, and the blood dripped onto the floor, blending in with the dried, old stains of suffering that had become my home.

I pressed my hand into the stone I’d cracked, wrapping fingers around the sharp shards and lifting it from the dirt that protested my touch. Caldris narrowed his eyes on the movement, shaking his head subtly as he realized my intention. His feelings came through the bond, strangled and warbled but present, nonetheless.

A warning to play the long game, that a quick burst of violence wouldn’t get me freedom. My own pride and arrogance at wanting to prove I could fight would only result in more difficult conditions for my eventual escape.

Imelda would tell me I was an idiot for fighting when my life wasn’t directly at risk, her voice chiming in my head as clear as day. I swallowed, releasing the stone and getting to my feet slowly.

“Take me to your leader, faithful servant of darkness,” I said, bowing my head forward mockingly.