Page 34 of Kissed By the Sun

I took a tentative step forward. "Hello?" I whispered.

The prisoners recoiled, pressing themselves against the far wall and into the corners, putting as much distance between us as possible. The two skeletal women that were closest to me exchanged furtive glances, then pointed at me.

Others murmured, reassured that I hadn’t pressed further forward into the cell. Still, they could sense that I was different, if it wasn’t already obvious by my lack of elven ears. In this place, it seemed that different was shunned.

"Disease," one of them hissed. "Look at her skin."

I glanced down at myself, confused. My clothes were filthy, true, caked with mud and blood from our battles. But disease? Then it hit me–they meant my moon mark.

"No, wait," I started to explain. "It's not?—"

The cell door clanged open and another woman hushed me urgently. A different guard, taller and broader than the last, stomped in. "You. Come."

Before I could protest, he seized my arm, yanking me out of the cell. His grip was bruising as he dragged me through winding stone corridors.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, struggling to keep my footing.

He remained silent. The only sound was the echo of our footsteps against the stone floor, until we reached our apparent destination and I could hear the faint sounds of muffled screams from neighboring cells.

The air was filled with the stench of fear and the tension was palpable. All of it made my stomach churn.

The guard shoved me forward through the open door and I stumbled, barely catching myself before falling to my knees. Torches flickered against the stone walls, casting dancing shadows in the chamber. The elf that had been waiting for me raised an eyebrow at the display but said nothing.

This one had a regal air, with finely woven clothes that contrasted the rough surroundings. His eyes were like chips of cold jade and calculating, taking in every detail of my appearance.

The scent of blood and fear was even heavier inside the room than it had been in the hallway and I knew what was coming. Questions. Answers. More questions. Violence. This was an interrogation.

"So," he drawled, looking me up and down as though examining a product, "this is one of our would-be conquerors." He picked at some imaginary lint on his tunic sleeve.

I blinked. "What?"

The elf's eyes narrowed as he looked back up at me. "Don't play coy. We know you and your companion were sent to seize control of our kingdom. Now, tell me–what were your specific tasks in this plan? What role was the brute to play? Were you supposed to, uh, seduce the king?"

My mind reeled. "There's been a terrible misunderstanding," I insisted with a shake of my head. "We came seeking aid, not to conquer anyone!"

"Aid?" The elf's laugh was harsh. "The fae would never stoop to asking help from 'savage elves', as you call us."

I shook my head again, even more frantically. "That's exactly why we came without royal permission! Please, you have to believe me. The fae lands are dying, we're desperate?—"

"Enough!" he roared. "I tire of your lies. Tell me, what does this takeover have to do with the blight destroying fae lands? Answer me!"

I slumped against the floor, despair washing over me. How could I convince them of the truth when they were so determined to believe the worst? Why would the fae courts only send two people?

“The blight is what we seek aid for, not conquering. It’s destroying us, we need help.”

The elf's face contorted with frustration. He strode towards me, his eyes burning with barely contained rage.

The elf sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at me once more with those jade eyes. “We do know how the fae work, believe it or not. Your mark, your partner’s? They indicated that you are some of the most powerful warriors the courts have to offer. Why else would they send you here when you should be fighting this so-called blight?”

“So-called? Your border guards knew all about it. And we already told you we came without permission!” I exclaimed, exasperation edging my words.

He fell silent, and for a moment I thought he was actually considering my words but then the elf let out a dramatic sigh. "Very well," he hissed. "If you won't talk willingly, we have other methods." He turned to the guard who had been blocking the door this whole time. "Bring her companion. Let's see how she responds when we make him watch her suffer, or maybe she’ll give up the information if we make him bleed."

My heart leapt into my throat. "No! Please, don't hurt Thorn!"

The elf's lip curled in satisfaction. He had just proved that Thorn was an easy way to manipulate me. "It's just a threat...for now. But we will follow through if you continue to be uncooperative."

I trembled, torn between fear and indignation. How could I make them understand when they refused to listen?

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