Page 87 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

The shouts of the guards echoed in the main foyer, and I peered out a fraction more. Heat blasted from the center of the room, emitting from just beyond the electrified guardrails. Samkiel got closer, and I peeked over the barrier. A large glowing ember spun at the bottom. The guards did not give us time to stop and look, yelling and pushing us forward.

Up ahead, the line broke into three sections, the platform splitting. One group went to the center, another went up more stairs, and the third was funneled toward the bottom. Samkiel’s line was directed downstairs, and as he started down the steps, I looked up. High above was a large stone platform supporting what looked like an office or special cells. I noted it as a place I wanted to explore later.

The noises changed as we descended further into the bowels of the prison, but the stench just continued to get worse. Darkness pooled in the space on the other side of the railing. There was only a row of lights far above, providing a sickly glow to illuminate the way. The stairs spiraled for what felt like ages until they opened up to a large room.

Voices picked up, and I looked around. Prisoners sat in what looked like a cafeteria, utensils hitting against bowls and plates. The older prisoners looked toward the new ones but didn’t say anything. Their eyes flickered toward the guards walking the aisles above, each carrying what looked like a staff with a ball at the tip.

Samkiel stumbled, and I was jolted, falling back into his pocket. I fought my way back to the top, peering out to see a guard with a tuft of hair bristling along his spine. He snorted and grinned at Samkiel and Orym, revealing dagger-like teeth. Okay, so he’d die first. He used his staff to point toward the retreating prisoners, and I realized it wasn’t just me surveying the area.

We moved once more, the sound and smell of fresh water catching my attention. The line stopped as the guards made them all line up, speaking and pointing toward the rows of showers. Mist coated the room, a small fog from the heat of the water. The guard shouted something else, and the prisoners started to strip.

Samkiel patted his pocket lightly to let me know, and I held on as he lowered his pants. The second they hit the floor, I dashed out and away.

HOURS PASSED AS I SCURRIED THROUGH THE PRISON. I NEEDED TO reach the upper levels, but I soon learned there was no way to get there once the doors leading to the stairs closed. At least I had not found one yet.

I had returned to the dining hall and was between two misshapen stones, watching Samkiel and Orym eat. At least he was eating again now that the poison was fully gone. The only problem was, now, I was starving. I couldn’t come and go as I needed to in this place, so I had to find a way to eat that didn’t include killing or drawing attention. Great, fucking great.

A guard tapped his staff along the railing, and all the prisoners stood up, returned their trays, and filed out of the dining hall. I scampered across the floor, following close behind as they went deeper into the prison.

This level was just as dim as the one above and branched off in two directions. Guards pointed to the jagged cut-out rooms with matching grates, shuffling prisoners in two at a time. Luckily, Orym and Samkiel were to be cellmates. I hopped over the railing, staying in the shadows. The guard said something in a harsh language before locking them in.

The guard left, and I waited for the sound of his boots to recede. When I only heard the murmurings of the other prisoners, I changed back. I stretched my neck and stepped from the shadows. Orym jumped, clutching his chest.

“Holy gods! I will never get used to that,” he said as a corner of Samkiel’s mouth twitched. “Did you come from the very shadows themselves?”

“Actually, I’ve been running around as a small rodent for the last few hours, and my muscles feel very cramped and tight,” I said, stretching my arm over my head before switching to the other. “Also, you guys don’t stink anymore, so that’s good.”

Orym grunted in response and went to his makeshift cot, unwrapping the blanket and pillow. Luckily, they had given them new clothes, even if they still looked used, a mix of gray and brown garbs that wrapped at the waist and were tight around the ankles.

Samkiel nodded toward the stack of clothes beside his cot. “I got some extras for you since I am unsure how long we will be here.”

A corner of my mouth lifted. “You stole clothes for me? How romantic.”

“There was a smaller guy here. I just took his. I am sure they found him some others.” He scratched his head.

I grabbed the clothes and set them on the narrow cot. Samkiel stood, shielding me with his body and tossing a look over his shoulder at Orym. A small chuckle left my lips as Orym lifted his hands and turned around. “I’m not looking, I swear.”

Samkiel watched as I undid the laces of my top and let it slip to the floor. He handed me the shirt first, helping me slip it on.

“I looked all over this place,” I said as he pulled my hair free from the top, brushing it back from my face. “It’s pretty much an underground fortress.”

“I assumed as much,” he said.

I reached for my waistband, pushing my pants over my hips. “Once that door up top seals, so does this part. I wonder why they separated you all into three and what that fancy room on the main floor is.”

I rested my hand on his shoulder as I took one pant leg off, then the next.

“The first level is those she can exploit for information. The second is workers to keep this place running, and the third . . .” Orym drew quiet as I slipped the pants on, jumping into them and rolling the waistband to keep them up. Samkiel pressed a kiss to my forehead before turning around to face Orym, but the elf still sat with his back to us.

“You can turn around now. I’m decent,” I said.

Orym turned around, and Samkiel sat near him. I followed and stayed near the wall in the shadows, keeping their bodies between me and the door in case a guard passed by.

“What is the third level for?” Samkiel asked.

“The third is for the only ones who might make it out of here, and all of them will end up in front of Nismera. That’s why we are here. We will only leave when she arrives for us.”

Samkiel nodded, but my blood ran cold. “Would she come here?”

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