Page 104 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

“Wait. What’s your name?” I asked.

She looked at me over her shoulder. “Veruka.”

“Do you know how to find Dianna?”

Her hand froze on the door. “I think the real question you should be asking is why is Nismera so concerned about making such strong weapons?”

My lips turned downward. “That’s easy. She fears Dianna.”

Her eyes went dark, but she held my gaze. “Nismera fears The Eye. So ask yourself, what makes a goddess afraid?”

Veruka opened the door and walked out. I stared after her, wondering just exactly what would scare Nismera.

FORTY

DIANNA

Night fell, and I headed back to Samkiel and Orym’s cell. The guards loved having time off after ensuring everyone was locked down for the night. Our plan had worked surprisingly well over the last few days. Every night we worked on the tunnel, the physical release a welcome one and a way to burn off the frustrations of being here.

The attitude had changed around the prison. All the prisoners were excited and had a glimmer of hope now that they knew who Samkiel was. The possibility of freedom was apparently all they needed to want to help. I passed a few cells, the prisoners inside fast asleep, and headed toward Samkiel. One glance inside told me he wasn’t there. Only Orym slept in his cot. He would be downstairs.

I wondered if he would ever actually sleep now that Logan was here. He was even more determined to save everyone. I remembered the look on his face when I’d taken him to see Logan, and anxiety bit at me. He’d assumed Logan would see him and immediately remember him, returning to the friend he so desperately missed. But when Logan had not so much as blinked at him, Samkiel’s mood had soured tremendously.

My chest still burned with the rage I’d felt the next morning when Samkiel had cried with the agony of losing his friend all over again. It made me want to kill something. He didn’t deserve everything this miserable realm threw at him. I knew he was beyond scared, and I wanted to wipe that look from his face.

I skipped down the stairs to the lowest level. This was my fear and why I didn’t want him finding them just yet, but this was another stark reminder that I couldn’t protect him from everything.

I passed Savees’s old cell. I hated that they’d kept him down here with no lights and rotting corpses. So, I’d suggested he stay up top when night fell, and now he slept in our cell. He was more than happy with the arrangement, not even wanting to share the blanket Orym tried to give him.

I rounded the corner and heard the chipping of rocks. A massive dug-out tunnel stretched into a darkness so complete that not even the lights I had stolen from upstairs touched it. Even with my enhanced vision, I couldn’t see Samkiel. I stepped inside, the noise of metal against stone growing louder the deeper I went. A soft glow came from up ahead, and I walked a bit quicker, eager to see him. One more turn, and I saw Samkiel, something in me easing at just the sight of him. He grunted as he shifted another large rock and wiped the sweat from his brow. I stopped and leaned against the roughly hewn stone wall, taking in the view.

Samkiel tossed another massive stone, his biceps bulging. He raised an ablaze ax and slammed it against the stone. I always thought Samkiel was beautiful. I mean, who didn’t? It was written in every textbook about him, but dirty, sweaty Samkiel might be my favorite. He had removed the top part of his prison garbs, and it hung loosely at his waist. Every dip and line of muscle flexed as he raised the ax, chopping against stone. Silver light sparked with every hit, and the rocks fell away like butter.

“Maybe I should have had you digging out this damn tunnel sooner if I knew you’d do it like this,” I joked.

Samkiel’s ax stilled for a moment, but he didn’t turn toward me. Hmm. Weird. Usually, my little jokes or puns got a response. Maybe he was just tired and focused.

“I’ve been stealing as much information as I can, sending Reggie the maps and books they have here,” I said, and yet he didn’t flinch at my voice, just kept chipping at the wall.

“Good,” he said.

He dropped the ax and tossed a few of the larger pieces he’d broken off further into the tunnel, but he didn’t even turn around.

“Logan is still the same, but he stays close to me.” I sighed. “I’ve tried to make him eat or drink water, but nothing. I assume they don’t need it while in this state, but I’ll keep looking in those files. Maybe they can tell us something more.”

He picked up the ax again. “All right.”

I pushed off the wall in a huff. “Okay, are you going back to oneword answers again, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Besides being in this sweaty underground death trap.”

Silence.

“Sami.”

His shoulders slumped, and he lowered the ax, placing it against the neighboring wall. He turned to face me, his arms folded, bunching the corded muscles across his shoulders and chest. “I know there is a lot going on right now, but when are you going to tell me?”

My heart dropped.

“Tell you what?”

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