Page 126 of Elas

But my hand never loosens.

I drag Xeni with me to the cracked earth, using the last of my authority over my muscles to dig my thumb deeper into his eye socket. Blood gushes down his cheek before the collar steals my vision and I lose control of myself. Khors shouts and rough hands bind me and haul me to my feet, fighting in vain as consciousness flees my defeated body.

Elas

Thud.

Awareness finds me, and the metallic tang of blood chokes me as I groan, but even that small noise is too much.

Too much.

It’s all too much, and I plead for the comfort of unconsciousness again.

How am I even alive?

Pressure hammers against my temples, again and again andagain,until I’m sure I’ll explode with the tension. It hurts… gods, it fuckinghurts.I take a shuttering inhale, and the quiet rush of air threatens to shatter my skull, so I hold my breath instead… decide I’d rather suffocate than let that torture shred me to pieces again. Bone-deep pain radiates from my thigh, each beat of my heart sending another stabbing wave of agony through my destroyed leg.

Thud.

Darkness surrounds me. Pitch black emptiness. No light… there’s no light anywhere. There’s only total, complete, endless night.

I try to force my eyes open.

They won’t obey.

My world is only this obscurity… only this hole I’m trapped inside. My head spins from the lack of oxygen, so I release my breath and fight through the pain that makes my body seize. Everything is loud. The scratch of leather as I shift my leg is deafening, and my pulse claws at my sanity, but I can’t hear past it.

Thud.

Memories are cloudy, a clusterfuck of running and fighting and heart-stoppingpain.Crusted blood coats my face, and as I slide my hand under my armor, the bullet wound on my shoulder is closed.

How much time has gone by?

My hands drag up my torso to find the collar secure on my neck, and my entire body shrieks as I try to move from my slumped position. Another groan gurgles from my bloody throat as my shoulders slam against something hard. The impact steals my breath. It throws my pulse into a pace my battered body can’t possibly maintain, thrashing in my chest so rapidly it feels like one continuous beat. Nausea claws at my throat as I reach upwards.

Metal bars.

A cage.

Another fucking cage.

I try to open my eyes again, but panic closes my throat as I realize they’re already open.

Endless dark surrounds me.

Oppressive, impenetrable blackness.

Claustrophobia squeezes the air from my lungs as the cage presses in like a vise. My eyes fight the darkness, but only find the faint outline of bars mere feet in front of me. Beyond them is a field of nothing.

A low, gravelly voice rumbles, almost lost in the high-pitched ringing of my ears and the hammering dread of my pulse. I put all my effort into listening.

“Are you finally awake in there?” Khors asks as something slams against the bars again, vibrating in a shock against my skin. Even though I know he’s close by and gloating, he sounds underwater and miles away. I try to swallow, but my tongue is too thick for my mouth, swollen and sore. “Never show others your weaknesses unless you want them used against you. Gods, I’ve never forgotten your screams.”

“August,” I rasp as I grope blindly around in the cramped, dark confines of the cage, trying to measure its size. My shaking fingers reach between the bars, desperate to summon every exhausted ounce of strength to find the light again. Meshed, rigid material meets my fingers and doesn’t budge as I try to fist it and yank myself from this nothingness. A low whine builds in my throat as I shove my palm against it, fingers clawing and pushing in a fruitless attempt to remove it. Agony lances every inch of my body as I move, but still, I search for a weakness I won’t find.

“Do you like that?” Khors taunts, and my ears twitch as he drags his hand along the shroud, tracking his position to my left. “It was you that gave me the idea. A way to bring the darkness inside, without those bulky isolationchambers. It took the scientists years to design something strong enough for my liking… strong enough foryou.”

“August,” I repeat. My hands rebel against my logical brain and continue to fight against the wire-woven fabric, pushing and pulling and scratching despite knowing I won’t break through.

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