Page 126 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn
The tension in these confines is haunting, and I swear their beautiful, elegant features nearly turn monstrous.Oh, they want revenge. Alotof it.
Without questioning anything else, I rush back down the pathway, the sirens being extra quiet as they slowly work to free themselves.
“She’s got to be here, somewhere,” I mutter, darting my gaze around until I find what looks like traditional prison cells, barely taking in any details, moving my way down there, rounding a corner and—shit.
I make eye contact with a guard whose nose is so crooked, it’s definitely been broken more than once, his dirty hand holding a battle ax like he’s surprised to see me. He seems more prepared to fight than the others, but he doesn’t have nearly the same amount of armor.
Quick, what?—
Grabbing a torch on the wall, I ream it at him as he raises his ax.Imagine this is sparring.
I press the torch right into his chest, ducking low when I see his footwork steps toward me, weapon raised, which swingsrightover my head, just barely. He screams from pain as the fire effortlessly burns his clothes, and I pad around his hard, ale-laden waist until I’ve got a hold of another hilt, unsheathing it as he pushes me off of him, dropping his ax with a loudclink.
I stab him in the gut, then right in the jugular to make it quick, and to keep him quiet.This is for you, Anya.
Panting heavily as my arm feels entirely funny—almost like I can’t even use it—I notice there’s a nasty gash right in the shoulder, blood spilling down, and reach around so I can heal it as I make my way to Anya’s cell—the keys!
Damn.
I return to the guard’s body, the smell of burning flesh something I didnotconsider beforehand as he continues to cook—he’s got a smaller rung, but there are a few keys. I hold the cold iron ring with the useless hand, finding it easier to fade into an emotionless state with the shock of his wound to my system, my blood pounding in my ears.
“Jane,” Anya mutters somewhere in the darkness of one of the cells, her voice full of fear. There’s a clinking of metal on the stone floor, like the sound of chains.
“I freed the sirens,” I spit out, panting, blood dripping down my hand as I hurry to her cell.
“Nothingabout this is stealthy,” Anya says, appearing in the faint light of the torches in here, her bloodied eyes glistening.
Seeing her utterly beaten makes me sneer, any guilt for what I just didvanishing. “There wasn’t an option for stealth,” I say, the lock finally clicking open as I enter her cell, the iron bars creaking. I immediately move to the shackles at her ankle; it works, the heavy weight of it hitting the floor as she’s freed. “Go. They can’t kill me. They need me alive and submissive. I’ll survive until someone gets here. Cypress just wanted me to free the sirens, that’s all. So that’s what I’m doing. I knocked Jesper out in a private room like I did with Soren, so we have time.”
A part of my heart, somewhere, had clearly hoped Anya would come up with a miraculous plan and take me with her. Instead, Anya’s skin begins to change, bruises disappearing along with everything else as she takes on the appearance of a woman with brown hair that I don’t recognize. I observe the process, accepting that as soon as she disappears, I’ll be alone.
It’s more bittersweet than I thought.
“Get to the ocean, Jane,” Anya says.
“I can’t,” I pant. “The sirens won’t take me. They don’t have marrowkelp, so I’d probably freeze to death before they can acquire any or get me to the right shoreline. There’sno waywe can both escape here, butyoucan, with your skills.”
“You shouldn’t have come for me,” Anya warns, the foreign face covered in grime even if the marring of her body is hidden.
“And leave you to rot?”
“I didn’t anticipate I’d survive here, Jane. I came so Soren could follow our trail, and confirm we’re here. And—well, I overheard your entire conversation with Cypress, Jane. I know Soren can’t feel you, or Misery. Cypress came to me right after she left you and told me to follow. That… that I’d getmyfreedom. That it would help. That I wasn’t to leave your side, and that my willingness to die here would help save the rest, while I’d get to finally let go of my pain. Plus, I can’t leave you, because of Soren’s mask—” The old, shrewd expression returns to her. “Yes, wait. I have a plan. I have a piece of Soren’s mask in my arm, which I can put into you, so maybe he can trackyou. I need you to help get it out of me and into your skin. After this, it will be worthless in my corpse.”
“Anya,” I say, as if I can snap her out of whatever she’s insinuating.
Her eyes harden. “Jane,please. I am aware of what I got into. Death doesn’t frighten me. But dying without a purposedoes.” She sighs, the sound almost making me smile as it’s so likeher. “Think of it this way, if you’re the priority, then it makes sense to give it to you. Since you can heal us, it should be quick.”
“Then why in the hell did Cypress just not dothat? Why couldn’t I use Soren’s help at all?” It’s a rather pointless question, but it spills out nonetheless.
Pale, brown eyes stare sternly at me. “Jane, I think Soren getting involved would have made things worse. It would have risked him too greatly to get so involved, and I actually think Cypress intends for Soren to live. And I think my death, for whatever reason, ensures everyone acts in a way that ensures this.”
Those words shine sunlight on a shadowed part of my heart I didn’t realize was starving for the light. Cypress wants Soren alive?
The light, airy sensation that the witchisn’tworking against us darkens once more. “Cypress is letting you sacrifice yourself.”
“It’s not like I didn’t agree to it.”
The pendant, the one around my neck. It’s why it was a death note.
