Page 267 of Heat of the Everflame

His face filled with so much rage, Luther stiffened and nudged me behind him.

Sensitive subject?I asked into Luther’s mind.

He shot me a half-amused, half-wary look.

We continued on, following more long halls, passing through more bloodlocked gates. Oddly, there wasn’t a single soldier in sight.

“Where are all the guards?” I asked.

“We don’t need guards,” the King answered. “No one can get past these gates. Even if they did, there’s only one exit, and it’s nothing but flatlands for miles. They’d be spotted in minutes. There’s never been a successful escape in Emarion history.”

My stomach lurched.

The corridors thinned, and iron doors began to appear along the stone walls. Behind grates in their panels, the interiors were shrouded in darkness.

I paused in front of a door and raised a hand to the opening. Pale blue light spiraled out from my palm, illuminating the bleak cell. There was very little inside—a flattened mat of moldy hay,a dingy bucket, and a tray of food that looked like it had been rotting for weeks.

And curled up in a back corner, shielding his face from the glow, sat a green-eyed man.

He looked shockingly fragile for a Descended. Soiled muslin rags drooped from his bones, which had become nearly visible through his sallow, paper-thin skin. His face had lost all its color, and his eyes had lost all their light.

I sucked in a breath. Instinctively, I reached toward him and pushed healing magic into the air.

“What are you doing?” the King snapped, lunging to grab me. “Get away from there.”

Luther blocked his path with a threatening snarl. “Lay a hand on her, and this realm will have a new Crown by day’s end.”

I had to admit,hisrampageshad quite the stimulating effect of their own.

“You two can’t just come to my realm and threaten me,” the King roared.

“These conditions are inhumane,” I shouted back. “This man is barely alive.”

“He’s lucky. If I had my way, there’d be nothing left of him but ash. My only mandate is to keep the prisoners breathing. Beyond that, I run things how I please. If you don’t like it, take it up with the Crowns.” He began to walk away. “Something tells me they won’t be receptive to complaints fromyou.”

I gazed back at the cell. Luther took my hands and gently tried to pry me away.

“You will remake this world,” he said, echoing his words in the Umbros markets. “Right now, your mother needs you.”

I reluctantly let him lead me away. My eyes fell in shame with every new cell we passed, knowing now of the horrors that lay inside.

“Why are they so quiet?” I murmured. There were at least forty cells in this hall alone, yet not even a whisper emerged from a single one.

“They’re drugged,” the King answered. “It suppresses their magic and keeps them docile.”

Flameroot, I realized. Though the small amount I’d taken daily had dulled my emotions, for the most part, I’d still been myself. These prisoners must have been given an enormous dose to have this strong an effect.

A sudden crush of emptiness hit me. It was visceral, more physical than sadness, like a piece of my soul had been sucked out from within. I clutched at my chest and looked up at Luther in alarm—only to see his face had gone pale.

His expression turned grim as his gaze locked with mine. The storm of light and shadow that usually churned in his eyes had vanished.

My heart sank.

His magic was gone.

The King stopped mid-step and glanced over his shoulder, a cruel smile hooking at the corner of his lips. It seemed he had noticed, too.

Luther’s knuckles blanched where they fisted at his side. “Don’t get any ideas,” he rumbled. “All I need is my bare hands and a good reason.”

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