Page 95 of King of Fire and Flames

“Raiden,” I hissed, tucking the pendant over my tunic, becoming visible again. “It’s me.”

“Leaf!” He lurched up and clutched the bars. “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone.”

“Except maybe the Sayeeda,” I corrected.

Even in the dim light, I saw his cheeks darken.

“Are you all right?” I whispered. “Where’s Arrow?”

“Three cells along. They’ve done something… I don’t know… unpleasant to him. Those fucking statue guards came down, and since then, he’s stopped talking to us.”

“Shit. Do you think the guards can hear us?”

“Doubt it. We’ve tried yelling to find out, but they only came down twice. Once to deliver food and another time to… do something to Arrow that didn’t sound good.”

I closed my eyes for a moment and steadied my breathing. “Estella has a plan to get you out of this shithole. And hopefully, out of the Sun Realm.”

“Thank fuck. Please, tell her to hurry.”

“Tomorrow night. Not long past nine o’clock, your powers should return.”

His dark eyes widened. “How?”

“I haven’t got time to explain it twice. I’ll tell Arrow. Just be ready, Raiden.”

“We will be. Good luck.”

I shoved my hands through the bars, squeezed his face, and kissed his cheek, my gaze falling on Esen and Zaret, still sleeping. “Are they all right?”

“Yes. They fought like trolls earlier today, so Azarn’s guards put a sleeping spell on them. Said it would wear off soon.”

I gave Raiden what I hoped was a comforting smile over my shoulder, then hurried to Arrow’s cell, gasping when I peered through the bars.

Slumped against the back wall, the Storm King was fast asleep. Or dead. If they’d killed him, I vowed I would murder Azarn with my bare hands, regardless of the consequences.

The cell contained no bucket, blankets, or even a stretcher bed, and the only sounds were the drip, drip, drip of a water pipe and Arrow’s soft moans.

Wait… he was alive!

Dark wings spread out, dirty and limp on the floor. He lay on his side with his head resting on his chained hands, fingers from one hand shielding his eyes, like a sleeping child.

My heart pummeled against my ribs. “Arrow, wake up,” I shouted.

Slowly, his head rose, and unfocused steel-gray eyes scanned my body, their usual silver glow extinguished. “Leaf?” he slurred.

“Yes! Yes, it’s me. I need you to concentrate. Can you move?”

“Think so.” With his wingtips dragging along the wet floor, he slowly pushed onto his feet, then stumbled toward me.

Dark-gold hair clung to his damp cheeks as he leaned into the bars and pressed his face to mine like a caged lion begging for a pat. I squeezed his shoulders, ran my hands down his biceps before reaching down and tugging the cuffs around his wrists. Naked from the waist up, bruises bloomed over his skin, his feather glyphs faintly pulsing, activated by my touch.

I gripped his face and pressed soft kisses on his cheeks. “What have they done to you?”

“Just dished out an unhealthy serving of Fire Court hospitality. I’ll be fine. Azarn needs me alive. How did you get in here?”

With a grin, I flipped the pendant in and out of my tunic, disappearing then reappearing.

“Estella gave that to you?” he whispered.

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