Page 249 of Lady for Embers

“You will aid me because Achaz demands it of you,” Alaric replied sharply.

The Sorceress gripped the bars, a wince crossing her features at the bite of the shirastone. “He is here?”

“Not yet.”

She shoved off the bars in disgust. “Then you waste my time. I can do nothing from in here.” She whirled back, fury lighting her features. “You have left me in here for centuries, Alaric.” She was back at the bars again, face pressing to the shirastone, bare feet scraping against the base of the bars. “I am starving. That girl tricked me,” she spat.

“Shh,” Alaric soothed, stepping closer. “I know what she did, Gehenna, and we will make her pay for all of it. I will free you soon.”

“If you are not here to do so now, then leave. The price of my aid is my freedom from this cell. No more deals. No more bargains,” the Sorceress said, wrenching herself off the bars once again.

Cyrus watched as she paced the cell, hands pulling at her limp black hair. He had never seen the female before. Never been this deep in the Water Prison. She had clearly lost her mind down here in the centuries of solitude with rarely a visitor.

“Now, now,” Alaric chided. “You do not need to be like that. I am not here to make a deal or a bargain. I came to bring you a gift until I can free you.”

“A gift?” she asked, head cocking eerily. Her eyes darted to Ashtine’s belly. “The babes?”

Ashtine lurched back, hands splaying over her stomach, and she shifted to hide it from the Sorceress.

“Unfortunately, no,” Alaric said sympathetically. “They have been promised to another.”

The Sorceress made a sound of disgust. “I want nothing else.”

“Then I shall take my leave and take my gift with me,” Alaric said with a shrug, turning to the stairwell.

“Wait!” the Sorceress cried, ?inging herself back onto the bars and causing all the Fae to take a few steps back. The reverberating clang made Cyrus wince. That had to hurt the way she threw herself at shirastone like that.

“Tell me what the gift is.”

“Too late,” Alaric called over his shoulder, not breaking his stride.

“Come back!” she wailed. “I will barter with you.”

That made Alaric pause. He turned back slowly. “I could be persuaded.”

“What is my gift?”

“Blood.”

Her eyes widened. “How much?”

But Alaric shook his head, that arrogant smirk tilting again. “First, what I get from you.”

“What do you want?”

“A location Mark. To ?nd something,” he replied.

“What is it?”

“Not your concern.”

“Then I do not want your gift.” The Sorceress pushed off the bars again, moving to the wall and dragging her nails along it as she went. The high-pitched sound had Cyrus grimacing.

Alaric growled, cursing under his breath. “The lock, Gehenna. I wish to locate the lock.”

“The lock?” the Sorceress repeated, looking back over her shoulder. Her head tilted again. “I gave that to your mother before I was put in here.”

“And she hid it within her cliffs. I cannot ?nd it.”

---