Page 1 of The Rising Wave

Chapter 1

Carila would be proud of her.

Ava put the last touches on her escape plan and then stood in the center of her stone-walled cell, hands on hips, taking a moment to enjoy the accomplishment of it.

True, she had yet to pull it off, and this wasn't her first try, but she'd learned from her mistakes.

This time she would succeed.

She would have to.

Time was running out.

They'd moved her to the dungeons three weeks ago.

It was supposedly temporary punishment for her last escape attempt from the tower, but she saw it clearly for what it was—the first step to her murder.

Out of sight, out of mind, in a way.

She wasn't already dead only because Herron had to be careful not to appear involved in her demise.

Especially if Ava's aunt was still alive—something Ava hadn't been able to find out from anyone.

Herron must be paying well for the guards' silence, even in the matter of whether the queen was still on the throne.

But she was well aware Herron intended her to die here.

It would be a terrible misunderstanding, of course.

She would sicken, and they would try to save her, but all for nought.

She had already been through one bout of vomiting through the night.

She knew she couldn't trust her food now, and she looked at the untouched stew in the bowl with regret.

Her stomach still felt tender from hanging over the bucket, even though it had been two days since she'd rid her system of whatever poison had been given to her.

She slid a finger under the edge of her tunic and rubbed the tiny stitches she'd put there after the first round of poisoning with regret. Theoretically, they would protect her, but she just wasn't sure enough of her workings. Not enough to gamble her life on them, anyway.

Which meant she had to move fast. The longer it took to escape, the weaker from hunger she would become.

The sound of voices, raised and angry, filtered through from beyond her cell and panic gripped her and squeezed.

She glanced up at her escape plan, heart thundering.

She had devised it to lure in and best Banyon, but it sounded as if there were at least three people coming, and the ring of hard leather boot soles on stone steps reverberated along with the threats and grunts that were clearer with every passing second.

She fought the throat-closing fear, forcing herself to step up to the bars of her cell door and stare at the arch out to the stairwell. Waiting for what was coming down toward her.

Juni staggered in, with Garmand beside him. Between them they were dragging a man at least head and shoulders taller than they were.

He hung between them, head bowed, feet dragging behind. He was shirtless and barefoot, and covered in bruises and bloody slashes.

Both Juni and Garmand were sweating, despite the chill in the dungeon, and Ava could see Juni looking at the ground as if he wanted to toss the prisoner onto the floor.

“No.” Garmand must have tightened his hold, because Ava saw the prisoner twitch a little. “Don't drop him. We'll dump him in the cell, or we'll only have to haul him up again.”

“Then open up, old man. Quickly!” Juni glanced back over his shoulder, his lips twisted in a snarl, and Ava saw Banyon nodding and simpering behind him, shoulders hunched as he darted around the two guards, keys rattling, and then came to a jerky stop at the sight of Ava, watching him from behind the bars.

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