3. Vale

Chapter 3

Vale

M y shoulders screamed in protest as consciousness finally found me. The poison metal of Lumentium bit into my wrists as I hung suspended from what I knew was a rough-hewn hook screwed into the craggy carved ceiling of the Judgment Room.

My bare toes narrowly touched the floor, my scant slippers gone. The little blood that wasn't leaking from my head pooled in my legs, making them ache and my hands numb. My skull throbbed as I hazarded a dry swallow, the coppery tang on my tongue enough to make me gag.

Death would be better than where I was now.

Death would be a mercy.

Because I knew what was waiting for me, and none of it was good.

I should know. I'd been here before.

The Judgment Room was little more than a large meeting space carved into the mountain, barely big enough to house us all. But each experience wrought in this room was still burned into my memories like a brand. As an adult, I'd swung from this very hook, paying the price for Nyrah's actions—the whip cracking against my skin still echoing in my ears even then.

At least I knew better than to ask for mercy this time. Because there was none to be found here. This hook had always been the consequence for murderers and food-stealers.

And now I was both.

But I couldn't seem to regret taking Thane's life, even if it meant I'd die hanging from this hook like so many before me. I couldn't regret saving my sister—couldn't regret anything except for leaving her alone in the clutches of that monster.

If I'd been smart, I would have killed him at the first sign of danger—would have pulled us out of here and braved the forest, dragons and all. I should have protected her like our father told me to, and now…

But I couldn't change what I'd done. All I could do was endure for as long as possible to give my sister enough time to escape. She had to escape. It was the only way any of this would be worth it.

Because I would never make it out of this room.

Keeping my eyes closed, I tried to assess just how bad off I was. By the scent of death and the murmurs of the crowd around me, I'd be willing to guess I was a step beyond fucked. And above it all, Nyrah's sobs hit me the hardest.

She shouldn't be here.

My lids flashed open, and my gaze unerringly found hers in the gloom. The flickering torches barely illuminated the blackened blood stains on the floor or the faces of my judge and jury. But I could see my sister just fine.

Her temple was bloody, her lip split, eyes wide with fear as the stink of it filled the room over the unwashed bodies of the mostly male audience. I told her to stay alive—whichever way she could—and my only hope was she obeyed me just this once.

But the man towering over her could make that difficult.

Arden Ashbourne, the guild leader, loomed in the shadows, his stark, tattooed face blending into the darkness as his piercing gaze sought me out. Unlike his bastard of a son, his eyes were an unearthly gold, shining like one of the iridescent rocks we pulled from this very mountain.

If I didn't know better, I'd think he had just as much magic as I did—not that it would do me any good now. In fact, I was pretty sure my magic would be my downfall.

As soon as my eyes made contact with his, Arden's paw of a hand gripped my sister by the back of the neck, forcing her in front of him as he cut through the crowd to where I hung. My sister winced, his hold likely as bruising as his son's had been before I killed him.

Firming my mouth, I refused to let him see my fear. The last time I'd been on this hook, I'd nearly wet myself I was so scared. And the fucker had gotten off on it. It was as if he could taste it in the air, scent it on my skin. But I already knew my fate this time. It would be agony and death, screaming and pain. It would be fire and blood, which somehow took all the fear away.

And I would be damned if he got anything else from me. Or from her.

"Oh, good," he cooed. "You're awake. I thought we'd have to start interrogating your sister if you took much longer to rouse."

Arden's voice was calm yet booming, vibrating through my chest like a drum as my bravado wavered. I'd killed his son.

He should be furious.

Inconsolable.

But he wasn't.

And that was so much worse.

His grip tightened on Nyrah's neck, and her face twisted, her knees buckling. But he held her up as he turned, almost as if he was putting us both on trial here.

"My son is dead—not by blade or axe but by the use of magic. One or both of these women are Luxa . This trial is to find the truth."

No, this trial was a witch hunt, only I was making sure my sister didn't go down with me.

Nyrah glanced regretfully in my direction, our eyes meeting in the scant space between us. She would do exactly what I told her to do—she would call me a witch in front of all these people. And just like before, when I told her to save herself, the betrayal still stung.

"She's the witch. She is the Luxa ," Nyrah hissed, a feigned mask of hatred slipping over her features, the falseness of it only visible to me and me alone. " She is the one who killed him."

And she wasn't wrong. I was a witch, a magic-user with no control over my power, and I'd killed Thane. If I had the chance to do it all over again, the only thing I would have changed was getting there before he could hurt my sister.

I didn't deny any of it, my silence ringing out louder than the murmurs of shock rippling through the crowd. A witch hadn't been discovered in these caverns in a long time—not publicly, anyway. Before my power had risen to the surface, before I was marked as a witch, I would have been just as shocked as they were now.

Arden released my sister, and her knees buckled, dropping her to the rough stone ground. Shifting on a foot, his big body loomed over me, the gold in his eyes shining in the dim.

"Do you deny her allegations?" he whispered, the heat of his breath against my face, his threat clear.

"That's not the question you should be asking," I barked, so much louder than either of them spoke. I needed the crowd to hear me. It was the only way Nyrah would make it out of this. "The question you should be asking is why your twenty-five- year-old son was alone with my fifteen-year-old sister in her sleeping chamber."

The shocked murmurs of the older adults helped my case a bit, but the guild leader's eyes only narrowed.

"The question you should be asking is how I found him. The question you should be asking is why his hand was down her pants as she tried and failed to get away from him. The question you should be asking isn't if I killed him. The question you should be asking is if it was just."

But Arden didn't actually give a shit why I'd killed his son—that much was evident by the loathing seeming to darken the runes on his face, the tattoos which marked him as our leader. They also illustrated his vow—to eliminate all Luxa . Arden only cared that the murder was done by magic, his feeble mind only latching on to me to perpetuate his own hate.

Might as well give him more of a reason to hate me.

"Your son attacked my baby sister—a child under my protection, her safety entrusted to me by my parents before they died. Of course I killed him. Your son was a predator, and I put him down like the rabid dog he was." A ghost of a smile lifted the edges of my lips. "And I'm not sorry."

Let him defend that.

But the gold in his irises only grew brighter before calming, the hate twisting his expression melting away. Then his hand whipped like a lightning strike, his backhand lashing my face with the force of his bottled rage.

A copper tang flooded my mouth as my vision went white and my ears rang like a gong, the heat of the hit fading only slightly as the pain made itself known.

"Painting my son as the villain in your story won't change the facts. It's possible he could have been attacking your sister. Or maybe he was catching you stealing."

Arden tore at my pockets, dumping out the rations I had stolen for us. All six days of them we needed to leave— our freedom —were tossed to the ground like trash.

I spat the blood pooling in my mouth at his feet.

"Stealing? I worked for every ration." My lip curled, and I figured I might as well give him a reason to kill me right there and then. Because once I did, I wouldn't be the only one going down.

Starving people were rarely ever rational.

"There's so much food in the kitchens, the rations are spoiling," I shouted, my voice clear over the murmur of the crowd. "They are keeping it from us—making us starve on purpose. There is plenty of food. They just won?—"

I expected the next hit, but it still made me swing from my bonds as my knees buckled, the poisoned metal cutting into my wrists. My lungs begged for air as I struggled to take a single breath.

Arden grabbed my face, his grip on my jaw hard enough to crush the bones underneath. "As if anyone would believe a word from a thief. You do still have your brand, don't you? Marking you as the criminal you are?"

Feebly, I kicked my legs out, but he didn't loosen his grip, even as they made contact. I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

"I showed you mercy last time because you had another mouth to feed. Now I see the error of my ways. I should have run you through with my blade and tossed you to the dragons. Maybe then my son would still be alive."

But there was no sorrow there, only hatred for what I was. It was no secret Thane was an embarrassment to his father—an heir in name only. Arden would never give up the guild leader seat, and now he never had to. I'd done him a favor.

And I would burn for it.

"Your own sister branded you as a Luxa . Do you deny it?"

Of course I didn't deny it—not that it mattered. Arden still held my face in his grip, clutching my jaw in such a way, it was impossible to utter a single word.

What's worse, the crowd knew it, too. They saw him hold my mouth shut, but I'd already sown the seeds of dissent. Starving people hated the fat and happy. Starving people hated excess, which was all the guild leadership was—excess. Fancy clothes and full bellies and nice cushioned places to sleep.

And power. Lots and lots of power.

Satisfaction filled me because I knew I was dying here, but maybe after I was gone, the mob of starving men would rip Arden limb from limb. Then he'd rot under this mountain with me.

Arden saw the glee on my face because he shoved me away, my feet scrambling for purchase as I swung back and forth from the hook. His muscles tightened right before he struck, his meaty fist burying itself into my middle. I gagged, the air leaving me in a rush as I fought to suck in a single breath.

"She killed my son with her power," he thundered, trying to quell the buzz of discord. "She will be burned by the dragons as all witches are." The decree echoed off the craggy walls, but it fell on deaf ears—not met with silence or respect but with an uproar of starving men more concerned with their bellies than whether or not I was a witch.

I spat blood at his feet, the insult implied. "You should have fed them when you had a chance," I croaked, my bloody smile stretched wide. "Now you're just as dead as I am. You just don't know it yet."

Arden snarled as he lunged for me, gripping my chain and ripping it from the hook. Unceremoniously, he tossed me over his shoulder, pushing through the emaciated men barring his way.

I met Nyrah's eyes in the crowd, hers filled with tears. This would be the last time I saw her, so I tried to memorize what I could while holding back the hot wetness aching to leak out. Silently, I willed her to leave, hoping that through all of this, she could steal away and save herself.

Arden turned a corner, and I lost her.

But as he stole through the tunnels, climbing to the surface, taking me to the one place I never wanted to be, I knew in my heart I lost her the second I'd killed Thane.

Saving her from him would kill me.

And I was good with that.

We emerged from the mouth of the cave system, the freezing winds biting at my skin as the wooden planks groaned underneath our weight. Arden dumped me to the catwalk like a sack of grain, my battered body catching on the too-thin ropes, which scarcely served as railing. I could only stare at the sharp cliff face below as I scrambled for purchase.

My vision tunneled as my breath stuttered in my chest, but I couldn't will my limbs to move—not even to pull myself to safety. The wind howled, but I could hardly hear it over the thundering of my heart in my ears. I was almost grateful when Arden pulled me from the edge, but my relief disappeared the second my back slammed into the side of the mountain.

His fingers wrapped around my throat as he lifted me from the catwalk, half-dragging me, half-carrying me up the narrow path to the top of the mountain. Something in my brain kicked on, and I started fighting his hold, biting, scratching, kicking, but it did little more than piss him off.

We made it to the top of the catwalk, the artificially flattened plane only decorated by the charred pillar in its center, the abused wood just as black as the mountain. The coming dawn barely lit our way, but it was enough for me to make out the full lantern and rope.

He would tie me to that stake and set me on fire.

My fight became frenzied, but it wasn't until I spied the dagger hidden in his boot that hope made a fool out of me.

"Grab the dagger and get free." Those thoughts weren't my inner voice, but I couldn't stop myself from latching onto the words and following their lead. My fingers darted out, snatching the blade from his boot, and I slashed his wrist. Instantly, Arden let me go, and I sucked in fresh air.

Hobbling to my feet, I faced off against my guild leader, his features twisted into a snarl.

"I'll make you pay for that."

With my hands chained together and his hundred-plus pounds on me, I had no doubt. But I would make him bleed first.

"Put it on my tab," I croaked, baring my teeth in a bloody smile.

"That's it, my brave one. Fight."

I'd never been brave a day in my life, but the closer I got to death, the bolder I felt. Or maybe it was the voice—the one that meant I'd finally cracked and gone crazy. Perhaps if I'd have gone crazy earlier, I wouldn't be in this mess. Emboldened by my slipping sanity and that damned voice, it was as if all the obstacles in my way had been knocked over. Now, there was only the blade in my hand and the man hauling me ever closer to the beyond.

One of us had to go, and I wanted it to be him.

I loosened my knees and set my shoulders as I flipped the dagger, pinching the blade just like my father had taught me back when the guild still let us have weapons. My one saving grace was that the blade was plain steel instead of Lumentium —at least I had that going for me. I knew I wouldn't win against Arden in hand-to-hand combat, but if I could lodge this blade in his gut, I may have a shot.

But I couldn't give up my blade too soon. If I didn't time it right, I'd be down my only weapon, with nothing more than air and the cliff's edge at my disposal—neither good enough.

Arden charged, striking out, and I'd thought I was ready for him. At the last second, his body moved too fast for my gaze to track, feinting left when I expected him to go right. I realized my error too late, letting the lone blade loose in a throw, missing him by a mile. The guild leader seemed to pluck it from the air, and then I knew I was truly fucked.

One second, the blade was flying end over end, sailing toward him, and the next, he was in my space, driving that blade home in my gut. The shallow cut I gave myself in our sleeping chamber was nothing compared to this. Everything was on fire—everything was blinding-white agony.

Shock fortified me for a single moment, and then I crumpled, the earth hurtling toward me,but just like before, he plucked me from the ground. Arden had no trouble dragging me to the stake and manhandling me into place, wrapping the rough rope around my shoulders.

Hell, the rope was the only thing holding me up. I couldn't even pull the blade free.

"I told you that you'd pay. Now you get to rot. Maybe the dragons will be merciful and burn you to death."

Arden's hot breath made my gut roil—or maybe it was the knife still buried in my gut.

"You're not dead yet. Breathe through it. You can do this."

"You think they won't bury you, too?" I wheezed, struggling to remain conscious. "I told you: you were dead already. Do you think they won't check the rations? You're just as dead as I am once they find out you've been starving us."

The guild leader gave me a gleeful smile, the first time I'd seen that expression on his stoic face. Then he gripped the blade and yanked it out. A scream tore through the air, but I was pretty sure it had come from me.

He tapped the bloody blade against my cheek, the metal still warm from its former home in my middle. "We'll just see about that, witch."

"I will kill him for that ," the voice announced, and it made my heart ache over the blood pumping out of me. This really had to be my shattered mental state, giving me all the things I'd missed in my life right at the end of it—protection, softness, encouragement.

No wonder my brain supplied them—it was a comfort I'd never had and always wanted.

Then Arden dumped the lantern, pouring the fuel onto the earth around me before positioning the glass just so. "When the sun comes up, the rays will hit the glass. If the dragons don't get you, the sun will. Have fun waiting to die."

"You won't die, my brave one. Not you."

But the voice was too little too late. I would die—and soon was my guess.

Then Arden did something odd. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked my chained wrists. "Wouldn't want these to melt, now, would we?"

I had no time to contemplate just how hot the flames had to be for the stone ore to melt before he wrapped the chain around his knuckles and landed a hit to my middle. Gagging, I lost whatever I had in my stomach as blackness darkened my vision. My knees buckled, the rope the only thing holding me up.

Arden's golden eyes flashed with wrath as he backed up a step to look at his handiwork. "Did you think I wouldn't get back at you for that little stunt in the Judgment Room? But we aren't quite even, now, are we? Maybe I'll interrogate your baby sister. Or maybe I'll just kill her. It'll save me the trouble of finding out she's a Luxa just like you. A life for a life, and all that."

I wanted to say something—anything—to make him leave her alone, but pain stole my voice, my mind, my strength. My only hope was if Nyrah had already made a break for it.

"Breathe. Just breathe. Help is coming."

A coppery tang filled my mouth as darkness threatened to overtake me. No help was coming here. There was no help for the helpless. The only thing keeping me conscious was the freezing wind, but I couldn't tell if the cold filling my bones was from it or the blood loss. I couldn't hear anything over the ringing in my ears, and soon, I was alone, Arden heading back to his own consequences as I waited for the dawn to come.

A sick part of me hoped the dawn would burn me up so the pain would stop. The other part wondered if I'd last that long. Cooling blood soaked my tunic and breeches, and I knew I didn't have much time.

At least the dragons wouldn't get me.

As that thought streaked across my brain, I started to laugh, the agony of it quelling my mirth just as quickly as it had come. Who knew if dragons even existed? Arden spoke of them as though they were a blight on our very way of life, but… After the rations, I questioned everything I'd ever been told.

Did dragons kill my parents? Or did Arden?

I slowly shook my head. If Arden had killed my parents, he would have rubbed it in my face before he left me up here. He was the type to use everything at his disposal to make me bleed—both emotionally and physically.

Too bad I was tied up. Jumping to my end would be a hell of a lot faster than waiting for the sun or bleeding to death. I doubted the height would even bother me now.

As the first rays of dawn transformed the sky into pale lavender, I fought the darkness moment by moment.

"Don't fall asleep, my brave one. You won't wake again," the deep, silky voice echoed in my head, forcing my eyes open.

But wasn't that the idea? Just falling asleep and never waking up? Still, something about that commanding tone kept my lids from drooping again, and I allowed myself to feel the wind on my face and the pain roiling in my gut.

The sun crested the horizon, shining like a beacon in the east, but a dark form in the distance brought more terror than Arden ever could.

Especially when I realized it wasn't alone.

The dragons were coming just like Arden said they would.

And there was nowhere for me to go.