Page 30 of High Stakes

My jailor waited outside my cell until the soldiers walked back down the hall and exited via the trap door once again. “You know him,” he voiced softly. “I see a spark of recognition in your eyes.”

“I don’t know him,” I replied, glancing over at Titus dismissively. “Do you?”

The man lingered, looking between me and Titus. The mask shadowed his eyes. “You look well this morning,” he changed the subject. “The color has returned to your face and the fever has broken. You have no boils, as far as I can see.”

“Does that mean you’re going to release me?” I asked hopefully.

I could hear him smile. “Not until I figure out what you are.”

Indignant, I argued, “What I am? What do you think I am?”

“More than just a simple farm girl from the country, I’ll wager. And since you know him, I’m guessing he’s more, also.”

“But I don’t know him,” I maintained, schooling my features into what I hoped was a convincing state.

Undeterred, there was steel in his tone as he remarked, “What did I warn you about lying?”

A long moment of silence thickened between us until he finally broke it, causing the unease in my gut to unfurl.

“He has the same magick in his hand as you do in yours.”

* * *

As soon as he was gone, I threw my blanket off and rushed to the bars separating me and Titus, watching over my shoulder in case someone tried to sneak up on me. This was the fourteenth century, I reminded myself. There were no cameras. No one was watching unless they were present, and the only beating hearts in the room belonged to the prisoners, rats, mice, and spiders. There had been a moth earlier, but it either died or flew out when they brought in Titus.

“Titus?” I whispered.

He didn’t stir.

“Titus,” I tried again, slightly louder. I reached through the rusted iron, stretching to reach him, but couldn’t quite manage to bridge the distance. I threw pieces of straw at him that fluttered soundlessly to the ground. By the time he woke, he was covered in tiny pieces.

With a groan, he rolled onto his back.

“It’s about time,” I deadpanned.

“Eve?” he rasped. He managed to flop his head in my direction and give a shaky smile. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“I highly doubt that, considering the fact I haven’t bathed in days. From the smell, I take it you haven’t either, though, so we’re even.”

He closed his eyes. “We’re so totally screwed.”

“Is your tech malfunctioning, too?”

“No, but I take it yours is,” he groaned.

Confused, I countered, “Well, do you care to elaborate?”

Without opening his eyes, he answered, “Not really. I just want to lay here and bask in the fact that I’m not dead.”

Based on his current condition, I wondered what he’d been through. “Where did you land?”

Every muscle in his body tensed and a grimace tightened his features.

“What is it?” He shook his head in response. “Titus, what happened?”

“I landed in a pile of bodies, okay? Rotting, gooey corpses, and a hell of a lot of them. I’m shocked I’m not sick.”

“You’re sure you’re not? Did you check for boils?”

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