Page 35 of Cages and Crowns
But I can’t tell why.
It’s my son. He’s missing. I screamed when I heard. Pounded on the bars, pulled at the door. All it got me was a busted lip and raped by someone who was forced to wait their turn for Elaenor.
The stream of men defiling the queen has been constant. She stopped fighting. She just cries. Every time she cries as they call her whore and empty themselves inside her.
I’m going mad. I can’t listen to it anymore. I can’t.
They stopped feeding me. They are far too consumed with Elaenor to care about the other prisoners.
Davel started to visit me, though. I don’t know when he was let out, but he is probably Elaenor’s most frequent visitor, and mine. I think I’d prefer it if I were dead.
I think she would too.
It’s dark. The dungeon only lit by a single torch. I don’t know why I woke; I’ve been sleeping most of the time away.
It’s quiet, which isn’t normal. I’m used to her sobbing. Her pleas for a quick death. She won’t get one. Not if she had anything to do with my son’s disappearance.
My eyes linger on the cell door. The rusted metal bars and the lock that has been taunting me for over a month. My eyes stay affixed to the iron, and I can’t tell why.
Until I see it.
It’s almost as if it’s alive, a snake or worm working its way over. My eyes widen and I stand, my back pressed against the wall.
It’s beautiful. White and sparkling as if it’s comprised of a million stars. The stream of light grows and climbs the metal bars, wrapping around them like lightning, or vines. The tip of it shoves into the lock and I hear the audible click, and then suddenly, it’s gone.
Just like that.
I hesitantly step over, my knees weak from hunger. My hands grasp the metal rungs and I push.
An uncontrollable sob creeps up my throat as the door opens with a creak. I shuffle out, keeping a hand on the wall to steady myself. I pass another cell, a man half beaten crumpled in the corner. His hair a dirty brown, his skin pale. He watches me with brown eyes as I walk by. I could stop, try to help him, but I don’t.
I reach the end of the cells, my ratty cloak dragging on the floor.
My mouth falls open as I turn the corner.
Elaenor is naked. Her body is clean, free of cuts and scars, but I know she’s been tortured.
The table beneath her stained with old and new blood. The floor around the table looks the same. A cart with various metal instruments sits in the corner,blood and flesh hanging to each tool. My hand covers my mouth as I fight the urge to gag.
I need to get out of here.
My steps quicken as I shuffle to the door. The only one that leads up.
“Hello?” Her voice is little more than a croak, broken and weak. “Is someone there?” She asks. I pause, my hand inches from the door handle, before I turn and face the queen.
I take a long, deep breath as I walk up to the table. Her eyes are covered, a blindfold wrapped around. Her crown is on her head, blood staining the diamonds. Her lips are pale and cracked, her nails broken and bleeding as if they’ve been digging into the stone.
“I can feel you.” She whispers.
“It’s me.” I whisper back. She flinches and her head turns in my direction.
“Nylah?” Her voice is filled with disbelief. “I thought you were dead.” She shakes her head. “I begged him. I begged him to tell me where you were. I am so sorry—”
“What did you do with my son?” I cut her off. Anger brewing deep in my belly. If she had anything to do with him disappearing, if he’s hurt, I think I might kill her.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers.
“Did you hurt him?” She shakes her head, her hands fisting. “Where is he?” She’s quiet for a second.
