Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

CLIO

Clio came awake all at once, aching in every limb. She would have given anything to return to consciousness slowly, but she woke with grief lodged in her heart like a blade. It shredded her lungs with each ragged breath she took. Horrible, body-wrenching sobs engulfed her.

Kassia was dead. She was dead.

The one person in the world who'd cared about Clio with no strings attached. Kassia had been her family for the last two years—and now she was dead. Betrayed and killed without a chance to defend herself. Why had Clio let Kassia step in front of her? Why hadn't she pushed ahead, gone through the door first?

Several minutes passed before Clio regained enough control to take in her surroundings. A cold stone floor. A matching stone wall behind her. Dull steel bars enclosed the other three sides of the small cell. Five identical cells were lined up next to hers, filled with shadows barely touched by the dim light leaking from a narrow window above the only door into the room.

A prison. A dungeon.

Fear barely penetrated Clio's anguish, and she huddled against the wall and cried until exhaustion scraped across her nerves and no more tears fell. Too weary to move, she stared dully at the row of empty cells. So this was it. This was where she would die.

A prickle of trepidation pushed through her grief. The other cells were empty. Where was Lyre?

She touched the back of her head where Lyre had hit her with a spell—knocking her unconscious before Madrigal could force her to answer their questions. Her hand slid down, and her fingers brushed the cold steel band around her neck. It was a magic-dampening collar just like the ones in the Chrysalis storage room. She couldn't cast spells, activate weaves, or even use her astral perception.

Beneath her shirt, Lyre's chain of spells and the clock key rested against her skin. They hadn't taken it from her? Maybe no one had checked to see if she was armed. They wouldn't have expected her to be carrying Lyre's weavings, and with the magic-dampening collar, it didn't matter what lodestones she had.

Pressing her back to the wall, she drew her knees up to her chest and let waves of despair roll through her. Time slipped away, sucked into a vortex of grief.

The door clattered.

Clio lurched onto her knees, her stiff legs preventing her from standing. Two daemons clad in black uniforms walked through the threshold. Two more followed, moving sideways with a third man between them—a prisoner with his arms chained in front of him. A final pair of guards followed the others into the space adjacent to the six cells.

Light cut across their faces, illuminating the new prisoner—the dried blood streaking his skin, the angry red bruise darkening his cheek, the stormy gray eyes.

It was Ash, the draconian assassin.

The guards led Ash to the cell beside hers and pulled the door open. One roughly shoved the draconian forward. Instead of stumbling into the cell, he slammed his shoulder into the nearest guard. The daemon hit the bars with a clang.

Swearing, two more guards grabbed Ash and pulled him away from the one he'd body-checked. Ash snapped his head back, his skull crunching against a daemon's face. Wrists still chained, he wrenched free, spun, and slammed a roundhouse kick into the belly of a third man. The guard flew backward and bowled over two others, leaving only one guard standing.

Then, with a taunting smirk, Ash strolled into his cell and sat back against the far wall.

"Bastard," the uninjured guard muttered. He hauled his comrade out of the way, slammed the cell shut, and locked it with a flash of magic.

Gathering themselves and muttering profanities, the six guards left the room with more haste than dignity. The door shut and the lock clanked loudly, the sound echoing with finality.

Clio pressed into her corner. Ash was wearing the same clothes she'd last seen him in, and the only change in his appearance was the blood and bruises on his face. It looked like someone had hit him. Maybe multiple someones.

He adjusted his chained wrists, then turned to study her. They stared at each other in silence, his dark eyes unreadable, his expression empty of emotion—no pain, no fear, no despair. She wondered what he saw on her face.

Finally, he looked away, gazing at the blank wall instead. "You did something stupid."

"What?" she whispered hoarsely.

"You did something stupid," he repeated, "to end up in here."

"Something stupidlike murdering Suhul's bodyguards?"

A corner of Ash's mouth lifted in a faint smile. Not even a flicker of remorse touched his features.

Clio relaxed her tight, defensive stance and sat against the wall like Ash. "Where is here, exactly? Is this a dungeon?"

"It's part of the bastille. A holding room where new inmates wait."

"Wait for what?"

"For their punishment to be determined."

A fresh wave of terror rushed through her. "How do you know that? Have you been here before?"

An expression crossed his face—something dark and hard and seething with hatred. "Many times."

She rested her chin on her knees and whispered, "I've never been in a prison before."

He said nothing, closing his eyes. His calm somehow worsened her fear, as though her heart needed to beat twice as fast to make up for his lack of panic.

"How long will we have to wait?" she asked.

"Don't know."

"What sort of punishmentwill they give me?"

"It depends on how stupid you were."

The Rysalis brothers might have captured her because of Eryx, but no matter how she looked at it, breaking into Chrysalis had been stupid. She should have escaped instead of saving Lyre. Then Kassia would be alive. And Lyre… Lyre would probably die anyway. It had all been for nothing.

"Why did you attack those guards?" she whispered.

"Which ones?"

"At the palace… and the ones just now, I guess."

He twitched his shoulder in a shrug. "Why not?"

"What?" She stared at him. "Don't you care that they'll punish you?"

"No."

"Aren't you afraid of pain?"

"No."

"Aren't you afraid to die?"

"No."

Her head spun. "Does anything frighten you?"

His eyes opened, his head turning toward her again. "Are you going to ask irritating questions the entire time we're in here?"

She met his stormy gaze and knew something had the power to frighten him. But he wasn't about to tell her what.

"How else will we pass the time?" she asked, managing to sound just a little arch.

He thumped his head back into the wall, even though the impact must have hurt. "I'm not answering any more questions."

"Where's your little dragon?"

He said nothing, holding to his declaration.

"Why have you been here so many times before?" She waited a beat. "What kind of mercenary are you? Why do you work for Hades if they lock you up in here? Who's that Raum guy you were with at the?—"

Ash growled, the low sound sending a violent quiver through her.

"Answer one more question, and I won't ask anything else," she promised.

His glower turned on her, and she involuntarily shrank back before catching herself. He couldn't reach her. Heavy steel bars separated them, and a magic-dampening collar even thicker than hers glinted around his neck.

"Just one," she cajoled.

"No."

"I just want to know… you had those guards beat, so why did you walk into the cell on your own? You could have escaped."

"Escaped to where?"

She frowned. "Huh?"

He said nothing more, and she gave up. Silence fell over the room, broken only by the slow drip of water from somewhere. Without conversation to distract her, the terror and despair crept in again.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she again looked at Ash. "One more question?—"

" No ."

Clio lowered her face, resting her forehead on her knees.

"Are they going to kill me?" she whispered to her lap.

A moment of silence, then an aggravated sigh. "I told you, it depends on what you did."

"I broke into Chrysalis and stole a secret spell from Lyre's workroom."

Another minute passed. She could feel Ash's focus on her, but she didn't raise her head.

"Tell me what happened," he murmured.

She wasn't sure why, but she did. The words tumbled out, a halting rendition of Dulcet kidnapping her up to Eryx fleeing with the spell, leaving her and Lyre to be captured by the Rysalis family. She didn't mention how Lyre's spell worked or the details he'd shared about its potential destructive power. Or their kiss.

Ash was silent for so long that she eventually looked up.

A hint of a frown had shifted his usually expressionless face. "Lyceus probably dumped you in here for safekeeping while he works on Lyre."

" Works on?—"

"That spell Lyre made—Lyceus will want it. He'll force Lyre to give up the secret, then probably kill him. You…" Ash pondered silently. "You're only important because you revealed Lyre's hidden weaving. Otherwise, you're inconsequential."

A flicker of hope cut through her horror at Lyre's fate. "If I'm not important, maybe?—"

"They'll kill you. Probably as soon as Lyceus is done with Lyre."

Her stomach dropped sickeningly. "Are you sure?"

"Unless they want to use your astral perception for their own purposes."

"How do you know about my…"

Ash shifted his shoulders, the chains on his wrists rattling. His stare fixed on her, and the fierce, demanding challenge in his eyes froze her lungs.

"What will you do now?"

"D-do?" she stammered.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to escape, obviously." She tugged at the collar around her neck, bruising her skin. "But I can't even get out of this cell."

"If you escaped the bastille, what then?"

"I can't escape," she insisted, anger spiking through her dread. What was the point of these questions?

Impatience narrowed Ash's eyes. "But if you could , what would you do?"

She pressed her lips together. "I would find Lyre. I would get to him and find a way for both of us to escape this place."

Ash nodded as though she'd proposed an entirely plausible plan of action. He rose, the sudden movement startling her, and crossed two steps to the bars that separated them.

Crouching, he gestured at her to approach. "Come here."

Her mouth went dry. He loomed in the shadows, blood splattered on his face, his dark stare challenging her, daring her to back down, to succumb to cowardice.

Pushing to her feet, she walked to the steel barrier. He slipped his hands through the bars, the chains on his wrists clanging, and hooked two fingers under the collar around her neck.

When the metal band vibrated with magic, disbelief snapped through her. Ash was wearing a magic-dampening collar—he couldn't use magic any more than she could!

Apparently the rules didn't apply to him, because the air sizzled and the collar burned hot against her skin. With a flash of heat and a crackling hiss, the weight of the collar disappeared. Gray dust fell over her shoulders and chest, all that remained of the spelled steel.

She could feel her magic again, a hot pulse of power in her chest that had been missing since she'd woken. She wiped at the dust on her shoulder, then stared at the gray stain on her fingertips.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked warily.

He sat back against the wall. "The main exit is heavily guarded."

His tone was bland, like he was commenting on the weather. She stared at him.

"There are windows at the opposite end of the building," he remarked, settling in as though ready to take a nap. "Too small for most daemons to fit through."

But Clio was small enough to fit. Was that what he was saying?

"The guards could return at any time." He gave her a sharp look. "What are you waiting for?"

She rose to her feet and glanced down at him, at the blood and bruises. "Come with me."

He lifted his head, stormy irises unreadable.

"Come with me. We'll get Lyre, and the three of us can escape together."

His gaze dropped from hers, and he closed his eyes—a clear answer.

"Ash…" Her forehead scrunched, and she remembered him walking into the cell.

He could have escaped. He could escape right now if he wanted to. He didn't need any help. The collar around his neck wouldn't stop him. The chains and bars couldn't stop him either.

Something else was holding him prisoner, and that was what he couldn't escape.

Straightening her shoulders, she strode to her cell door. The lock was a simple weave, easy to break. She pushed the door open, then paused and looked back.

Ash watched her, that fiery challenge burning in his stare, daring her to fail.

"Thank you, Ash," she said. "Good luck."

He nodded.

As she slipped out of the room of cells and closed the door behind her, she didn't allow herself to look back.