Page 27 of Fae Champion

Just as in Nightguard, I was an outcast in a world I’d never truly be a part of.

Zako was gone. And because of his connection to me, my only friend from my earlier life, Xeno, waslocked up somewhere in this shithole with an innocent dragonling.

No one was coming to save me.

If I intended to get out of here alive, I’d have to do it myself.

Shaking off the cold though it encased my bones, I stood and gingerly explored the confines of my room. My sight could make out little of use, and then only if I were to bow my head close to the object I was examining. With hands outstretched, I took baby steps across the space, mapping out its dimensions, searching for any weaknesses.

I found none.

But if I gave up, I’d be done for.

As usual, surrender wasn’t an option.

I shook off my disappointment and began anew.

Once I completed my second examination of the cell as thoroughly as I could, given how I couldn’t see, or reach the ceiling even when I climbed onto the bed and stretched, I accepted the finality of my imprisonment. There was no way out of this room that didn’t involve someone unlocking the door from the other side.

That was, until I took magic into account. The concept was foreign to my thinking. Yes, I’d grown up with Zako performing minor spells, and with the red-haired witch Clara occasionally visiting Nightguard tofortify its protections. And I’d been surrounded by magnificent creatures and shifters whose magic was self-evident…

ButIhad never used magic. I had no chance of having any power. I was only half fae. My human mother, whoever she was, had guaranteed I’d never become a true threat to the tyrant queen.

Despite all that, there was no denying some … force had touched me in the arena to retrieve me from the brink of death. I hadn’t summoned it. I hadn’t even known it existed, running through the land beneath my feet. It had found me.

Perhaps it would find me again.

Out of options, and desperate for water, food, warmth, and freedom, I sank to my knees in the middle of the room.

I despised fear, recognized it for the weakness it was, and yet … as the minutes dragged on, fear became a constant companion. I detested that I was turning into someone I’d been intent on never becoming almost as much as I hated the queen herself. All it had taken was three days of the unknown, of wondering when and if my suffering would end, to claw away at my strength and resolve.

The floor was damp and cold. When I pressed my palms flat to what felt like large bricks, their edges worn by use and time, nothing happened. There was no zing, no tingle, no energy sweeping up my arms to vanquish my fears and gift me that tantalizing elixir of hope. Tears stung my eyeballs, but I fought to keep them fromfalling. I might break if I let myself give in to exasperation.

Instead, I pressed my forehead to the rough bricks, silently pleading for assistance. I ended up with a new scratch and nothing more. Again, no response. The floor was just a cruddy, rank surface that smelled like decades-old urine.

Struggling to keep the tears at bay, I spread myself out on the filthy floor like a star, trying to cover as much ground as possible. I lay there for five long minutes while my teeth chattered from the seeping cold, but once more I sensed nothing beyond myself.

“By sunshine,” I whispered just to hear a sound outside of myself. My voice croaked across a parched throat. “I can’t die in here. I can’t.”

Only I knew all too well that I could.

I pounded on the door with both fists and cursed the queen until I ran out of words foul enough to suit her. The door scarcely rattled, so thick and heavy was its wood. When I ran out of steam and the tears threatened to flow despite my refusal, I huddled on the mattress again, waiting for a better idea to arrive.

“Not like this. Please, not like this,” I murmured to myself over and over until I must have fallen asleep—for I woke to footfalls that stopped on the other side of my door.

Suddenly alert, I bolted upright and waited, wondering if the person was friend or foe. Since I had so few of the former, I was betting on the latter. The guards had confiscated my weapons, but I could stillfight. I was a cornered, hungry animal, and I’d lash out as ferociously as a dragon with nothing to lose.

The door creaked on its hinges and my heartrate picked up. Dim light from the corridor spilled in, illuminating a swath of gray, dingy floor. The cone of light grew until it silhouetted a man’s figure.

I slid to the edge of the bed and lowered my feet, ready to spring into attack.

A glowing orb swept into my cell, illuminating the man’s face.

I stood with a squeak of rusty hinges. “Finnian?” I breathed.

The fae who’d aided in abducting me from Nightguard weeks before nodded, the thick braid he again wore sliding heavily against his back. He pressed his index finger to his lips before beckoning me to follow him out the door.

Reminding myself of the kindness I’d seen in his warm, caramel eyes, I nearly ran across the threshold. He stilled my momentum with a hand to my shoulder before pulling the door closed behind us, even the snick of the lock muted with his care.

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