Chapter 37

H e pulls the dagger from my belly, bringing a pool of blood along with it. He throws it on the floor, staring at me with a twisted grin. He has no other weapons in his hands, nor is he standing in a defensive position. He's… watching me. Waiting for something.

"Oh, my gods," I cry, clutching my abdomen.

Why is he staring at me with the grin of a feral animal? Two minutes ago, he was begging me to be his wife, telling me that he had to marry me, only me. Why the hell did he stab me?

Moose snaps, thrusting forward and latching his teeth into Olly's ankles. Olly lets out an angry cry, letting go of my arms as he falls backward and slams onto the ground. Landers rushes to his side, aiming for Moose.

Adrenaline shoots through me, begging me to sprint out the door before Olly has a chance to attack again.

"Come on," I yell at Moose. He releases his grip on Olly's ankles and runs back to follow me as I hobble out the door. Blood drips from my abdomen, down to my leg, and onto my shoes, leaving a crimson trail behind me.

"Wait!" Landers yells. "Stop her!"

We only make it a few steps into the hallway when the weight of a man crushes me, forcing me onto the ground, and entangling me in a mess of sanguine fury. He flips me onto my back and straddles me, grabbing both of my hands and pressing them into the floor. Despite our training together, I'm just now realizing that Olly is stronger than he looks.

"What do you feel right now?" The feral prince snarls like the animal within was unleashed.

"You stabbed me! What do you think I feel?" Through the biting anger and confusion, I scan my body for vital signs. My blood is pumping madly. My lungs are fighting for oxygen. My head is pounding. But yet, I feel… alive. Very much alive. Like power is coursing through my veins. "I feel…"

He unpins my left arm and lifts my shirt just below my breast. "Look at it!"

"What?" I scream, slapping my free hand onto my stomach. My fingers trail up and down, left and right. The wound is nowhere to be found. Not even a mark remains in the spot where the dagger pierced my skin.

How is that possible? My blood-soaked clothes serve as evidence of the strike. I can still see the image of Olly lunging toward me burning behind my eyes. I can still feel the impact of the strike.

Olly stands up and offers me a hand, but I slap it away. "What is this? What's going on?"

"You're immortal, Radya." Landers hovers over the both of us, looking bored.

The words clang in my ears, refusing to take hold. I rise to my feet, with no resistance from Olly, and inspect the wound again. Where there should be a gash, there is nothing but drying blood. "Immortal? I… I don't understand."

Olly's feral grin reeks of twisted pleasure. "You're one of a kind, Radya. My parents have been chasing immortality for as long as I can remember. Then your parents offered you up like a steak on a silver platter, and they snapped at the chance to make this arrangement. Our children will be immortal, just like you. Don't you want that?"

Immortal? What does that even mean?

Gods, I can't breathe.

Can I die? Did I die already? What gave them the impression that I'm immortal at all? And if my gift is immortality, then why go to such great lengths to keep that gift a secret? That can't be right.

"Why would they hide that?" I press my fingers to the spot where a wound should be and shudder.

"Oh, Radya. How have you not put the pieces together?" Landers tilts his head back, laughing maniacally. "Come on, now. Even you should be able to figure it out."

"Why don't you spell it out for me?" I say through gritted teeth. If I didn't need answers right now, I would surely punch him right in his smug jaw.

He opens his mouth but quickly snaps it shut. The mood shifts as two bodies emerge from thin air. Vani looks from me to Olly and then to Eleanor, assessing both the tension and the bloody mess that we made. "What's going on?"

"The prince stabbed me!" I yell quickly before Olly or Landers has a chance to provide any excuse or false narrative.

"You did what?" Vani bellows, scaring us all into silence. For a second, I think that his head might pop off of his body, judging by the vein that is nearly bursting from his temple.

"Radya, please excuse our son," says Eleanor calmly. Far too calmly, given the severity of the situation. "I hope this doesn't change anything."

Delusional. These people are out of their gods-forsaken minds.

"How could this not change anything? Are you suggesting that I marry a man who stabbed me?" I turn from Eleanor to Olly, whose cheeks are beet red. "Did you know that I would survive? Or was it a guess? Was there any doubt in your mind that I might not be immortal when you stabbed me?"

"Of course, I knew." The lie is written all over his face. It was a guess – a reckless test of the rumors not yet confirmed. I suppose that if it were a lie, and I died right there on the floor, then he had no need for me after all.

For him, it was a win-win. For me, it was everything.

"You bastard!" I raise my hand to slap him, but Vani latches onto my wrist before it lands.

"The urge for violence is understandable, but we don't tolerate physical abuse in this household. Olly will be punished, though, rest assured." The king casts a punitive glare on his son.

"I'm leaving this palace today," I say firmly. If only Olly could feel the daggers that I'm shooting at him through my eyes.

"Excuse me?" Eleanor asks as if she misunderstood.

"I'm leaving. I will not marry your son. I will not be the future queen. I want no part in this life." I hide my shaking hands behind my back, squaring my shoulders to the king and queen.

"Oh, Radya. Can you reconsider?" Eleanor looks unnerved, afraid even, as she casts me a pleading stare. "Please, for your own sake."

"I will not. My mind is made." I inhale a deep breath, trying to steady the vicious stream of emotions flooding through me. "I have been lied to more times than I can comprehend. I never chose any of this! And I may not be able to prove it, but I know that others have paid dearly for simply trying to help me. So, I'm done being your puppet."

"That is a very poor choice, girl." Vani says with a look that could cool scalding iron. "Guards!"

Two invisibles appear before me with shackles in their hands. But where did they come from? I should have been able to see them after casting the spell, but they appeared out of thin air before me. Unless they were already there.

I try to run, but my body won't cooperate. My hands begin to rise toward the invisibles. I try to stop the motion, but it's no use. The disconnect between my mind and body is petrifying but familiar, like the first night they appeared in my cottage. They can compel people to act against their will, and they're using that power on me now.

Within seconds, shackles are around my hands, and I can't fight back. Their force won't allow it.

No, no this can't be happening .

I can't breathe. I can't see.

Oh, my gods.

"Take her," Vani commands without a sliver of emotion.

The invisible's moonlit hand reaches out to me, and, in a second, we're whirling through the bitter and empty void. My hair wraps around my face, blocking my vision, as we move through space. My insides feel like they're constricting and contracting against the force propelling us forward. It's exactly like the first time I met them – when they first took me from Carcera.

The blurring madness stops when I land on my feet in the inky black darkness of a room without sunlight. With the shackles still on my hands, I frantically try to feel the space around me, searching for any signs of where I might be. One step at a time, I reach out to test the limits of this seemingly empty space.

If the invisibles are here with me, then I certainly can't see them.

I was right. They tricked me into thinking that the spell worked. I could never really see them. They revealed their corporeal bodies when it was convenient so that I would let my guard down and believe that it worked.

Was it Sir Magis, then? Did he betray me?

I am a fool.

When I hit a wall, I run my hands up and down it, searching for anything to help me understand my new surroundings. The freezing cold stone extends up farther than my fingertips can reach. It takes about five steps for me to reach the corner and then another ten before I hit the steel bars. I stick my arm through the slats and scream when my hand comes into contact with a body.

"Hey! I was sleeping," a man groans.

"I'm sorry! I don't know where I am." My voice quivers with terror and sadness, which he seems to perceive as he lets out a knowing sigh.

"Shit, girl. You're in the prison," he sighs again. "What did you do to wind up here?"

"I did nothing wrong, if that's what you're asking. Why are you here?" I resume my search of the room, running my hands along the slats until I reach another corner.

"I didn't do anything, either," he says with a flat tone of defeat.

"How long have you been here?"

"Days, weeks, months. Who knows?"

Sir Magis told me about the prisoners so far below the ground that they'll never see sunlight again. He told me about how they feared the invisibles enough to allow him to experiment on them. Prisoners who were better kept…. silent

Understanding sets in, settling deep in my bones. That is what we are. Prisoners. Hidden beneath the ground to be abandoned and forgotten by society. Experimented on by Sir Magis.

Perhaps when faced with an eternity of darkness and solitude, the possibility of dying at Sir Magis' hands wouldn't seem so bad, after all. Maybe that explains their eagerness to volunteer.

"Are there others?" I ask.

A moment of silence passes as if he's either struggling to remember or struggling to forget. "There's a woman here. She arrived recently. Maybe a day or two ago. But who knows, there could be hundreds of cells down here."

Gods, could it be?

I freeze. "What is her name?"

"Something odd. I can't remember," he says like he's tired of the questions. "Hey! Lady! What's your name? The new sad sop wants to know!"

A gurgled groan comes from the wall opposite the prisoner, but she doesn't speak.

I may be a fool for hoping, but I yell to her, "Guylita?" The name tears me in two, either side filled with hope or despair. If that is her, then I'll never be able to face her, knowing that I'm the reason that she ended up in this dreary pit. But if she can help me understand the truth…

"Who's asking?" Her voice is tattered and fraught.

"Radya, I'm… Radya."

A heavy silence engulfs us like they're both holding their breath.

"I met you once… in Carcera," the man finally says. "You're the reason I'm here."

How could we have met in Carcera? Is he from the village? He must be, unless…

Could he be one of the prowlers?

"You're the reason that I'm here as well," Guylita says.

My knees buckle under the weight of responsibility, and I fall to the floor, dropping my head into my hands. "I'm so sorry Guylita! And I'm sorry to you, too." I add to acknowledge the man whose name I don't yet know. Another casualty of my existence. "I never meant to hurt anyone!"

The tears fall freely without any sign of slowing.

"There's no need for tears, friend. It was destined to be this way," she says calmly. "How about we have our conversation now?"