Page 183 of Flame and Sparrow

“Hide,” I hissed at the griffin—and to my surprise, he obeyed, streaking away and back up the chimney. I heard his claws skittering along the stone, followed by a few clouds of dust puffing out of the bottom of the chimney, but then everything went silent and still.

I breathed in a few more deep lungfuls of fresh air from the hole I’d cut. The sound of locks being undone filled the room as I slid away from the window and braced my back against the wall.

I slumped down into what I hoped looked like a defenseless position, pretending I had neither control nor strength.

The door swung open.

I lifted only my eyes to watch Andrel as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He appraised me for a moment before sauntering forward.

“Have you had enough of this room, yet?”

Every part of me cringed as he knelt before me. I wanted to jump up at that very moment and make a mad dash for the door—and I felt strong enough to do it. But I kept still. Kept calculating my attack and escape plans.

“I can make this torture stop any time you like,” he told me, producing a small vial of something from his pocket and holding it just out of my reach. “This concoction I hold is working wonders for me right now, protecting me against the Wolfweed; I don’t feel a thing breathing in this nasty air. You just say the word, and I’d be happy to share it with you.”

I said nothing.

“Hard to speak when your mouth and such are numb, I suppose.” He canted his head toward my face, reaching and brushing a strand of hair from my eyes. “How about you blink once foryesand twice forno?”

I barely resisted the urge to reach up and snatch his wrist in my hand.

I wanted to do my best to return the favor of a broken arm.

But instead I bared my teeth at him, and in a voice faint from shallow breaths—the only kind I dared to breathe—I coughed out my answer: “How many blinks to sayfuck you?”

He laughed. “Still full of that nasty fire of yours, I see.” He stared wistfully out of the window as he spoke. “That boldness would have been useful for the next part of my plans. I had hoped we could rule alongside one another when that part came—the rebirth of our powerful houses. Our kind would still look to you as a leader, you know; it’s not too late to spin your fate in that direction. You always wanted to be their savior, their hope against the gods, didn’t you?”

Once upon a time, I’d tried to convince myself that was what I wanted.

Now I didn’t hesitate to say, “No.”

He tucked the bottle full of alleged antidote away in his pocket. “I had a feeling that would be your answer. What a shame.”

I didn’t reply. My eyes were on the door. Still calculating, listening for any nearby reinforcements he might have. The hall was silent. No voices, no footsteps—my path to escaping was likely as clear as it was going to get.

Andrel opened his mouth to speak, but I was done listening.

I lunged.

The sudden, unexpected explosion of me caught him off guard as I’d hoped it would; he stumbled and fell back, and I used the opportunity to knock him fully to the ground. I pinned him there, my knee in his gut and my hand around his throat.

“How?” he choked.

I didn’t waste my precious energy explaining anything.

His choke turned to laughter as he shook his head, still trying to goad me, even now. “How disappointing that you can’t do your part for your kind—that you can’t even carry out thesimplestparts of a revolution your sister was willing to die for.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I snarled, “but I am not my sister.”

Her reflection had been clearer than mine in the tower.

She’d never wavered.

She’d always been so certain.

But I was beginning to think that a mind that was unwilling to change was not necessarily a strength.

“I am not my sister,” I repeated. “And she made a mistake, trusting you.”

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