Page 32 of Return of the Darkness
Soren tilted her head.“Does it look like I care? I wanted to see my wolf. I either did that now, only to suffer torture for information later, or suffer now and wait to reunite with my wolf.” Nyzaia smirked. She had been right to keep the wolves as leverage.
“Well then, either answer my next questions freely, or we will move to the other room.” Nyzaia spun her dagger between her fingers, earning a sigh from Soren. It was no fun enacting revenge if the captive refused to fight back. Nyzaia handed Soren one of the other papers, containing a copy of all the symbols found on the sacrificed bodies and the surrounding walls. Soren’s frown intensified as she squinted and turned the paper.
“Can you read these?” Nyzaia asked. Soren paused, and Nyzaia expected—or hoped—for a retort, any reason to cut her open again and watch her bleed blood as red as Kazaar’s. Instead, Soren mouthed silently to herself, assessing the paper. Nyzaia tapped her foot while Soren continued turning the paper to trace the marks.
“One is the symbol used interchangeably for drinking, fluids, and holy wines,” Soren murmured, squinting. “Another is the symbol used for markets, stores, or establishments.” The cogs began to turn in Nyzaia’s mind.
“A tavern? Could it be a tavern?” Nyzaia asked. Soren nodded, rubbing the red mark on her wrist as she continued assessing the other symbols.
“I do not know all of these. I only learned from the texts we had remaining from Ithyion. My grandmother’s Wiccan book may have more, but we could never read it as children.” Soren withdrew her finger from the paper to hand it back, but then her eyes paused, squinting at one symbol. “This one at the bottom isn’t Wiccan; the outside lines are, but the inside is not.” Soren placed the paper down before her and leaned against the wall. Nyzaia picked it up, examining the symbol. Soren was right. The outside circular linesmatched some of the other detailing, but short rough lines marked the centre, creating crescent-moon-shaped lines flowing from the top, almost like a palm tree.
“The Palm Tavern,” Nyzaia murmured, glancing at Jabir and Farid. Jabir retreated from the cell.
“I’ll scout it out,” he said.
“Three hours. Meet at our usual spot at sundown,” Nyzaia commanded. Jabir nodded and left. “Get her up,” Nyzaia said to Farid, who wasted no time hauling Soren to her feet. She dug her heels in when Farid tried to move her, frantically moving back and forth between them.
“I answered your questions. Where are you taking me?” Soren spoke quickly.
“You’re the only one who understands the symbols, so you’re coming with us.” Nyzaia exited the cell and stalked down the dark corridor, ready for answers.
“But you said three hours! Come back for me,” Soren begged. Nyzaia did not know why she wished to be left in the cell as she dug her heels into the ground again.
“You need to wash and change. You’ll draw attention otherwise.” Nyzaia nodded pointedly at the dried blood on Soren’s clothes before her feet splashed in the puddles as she climbed the steps from the dungeons and headed towards her rooms.
“Just leave me. You don’t need me! I can read any symbols if you bring them back here,” Soren stuttered. Nyzaia made a note to understand her fears, wondering why she would choose to rot in a cell than leave its confines.
“Do you want to see your wolf or not? Because now is your chance,” Nyzaia snapped. Soren fell silent at that as Nyzaia and Farid led her to the Queen of Keres’s chambers.
***
“I don’t like this,” Farid whispered as they watched Soren standing at the end of the large outdoor bath of Nyzaia’s chambers. She decided against taking her to the communal baths to avoid rumours about a prisoner being permitted out of their cell. Soren tilted her face up to the sky and began pacing before changing directions as the birds chirped.
“She will remain in chains even while bathing. She is no threat to me,” Nyzaia murmured. Farid furrowed his brow and glanced between Soren at the edge of the baths and Nyzaia, leaning on one of the many archways. “Catch up to Jabir and make sure he is okay, and then you can come back for Soren and me. She’s fine here, but I don’t trust she won’t run the second we’re outside the palace walls.”
“She seemed rather set on being left in the cells. Why do you think that is?”
Nyzaia shrugged and turned her focus from Soren to Farid.
“Did you hear her mention regrets?” He nodded. “I’m not buying it, but there’s no denying there’s something wrong with her,” Nyzaia said, tapping the side of her head.
“Workers repeated phrases when they had heat stroke at the forge.” Farid frowned. “Is it possible it results from her saying Caligh’s name? Expelling his control?” Nyzaia looked back at Soren.
“I don’t know if she was under his control like Osiris or his army. She doesn’t owe a debt, does she? With her, everything seemed intentional.”
“Regardless of the debt, Caligh also controlled the soldiers actions. She could easily have been controlled, too, and his absence might be having this effect on her,” Farid contemplated.
“Poor girl,” Nyzaia scoffed. Farid opened his mouth but closed it, tightening his jaw while glancing again at Soren. Nyzaia straightened, moving from the pillar. She looked at Farid, who kept his eyes averted. “You pity her,” Nyzaia gasped, sensing hisemotions. “How could you? She is the reason Kazaar is dead. She was on Caligh’s side the entire time, Farid!”
“I know, but—”
“How can there be a but?”
“You and I both know what it’s like to have a man steering our path, manipulating our choices. I was forced to hide myself and slave away at the forge. Only when my father was killed did I choose to join the guards.” Nyzaia looked away from Farid’s face at the reminder of his early experiences, though she was pleased to have ended some of his torment by killing Arjan. “And had your father not forced you to join the Red Stones at sixteen, what might your life have looked like then?” Nyzaia remained silent at the truth in his words. “I’m not saying she shouldn’t suffer for her crimes or be forgiven. But it would harm no one to try to understand why she made those decisions, and how he used her like a pawn in his game. You do not know her history, Nyzaia. Many have judged your past the way you judge her now.”
“Enough,” Nyzaia snapped. “You forget your place, captain. I will not stand and listen to you pity her after she took Kazaar from me. Follow Jabir. We have nothing left to discuss.”
Farid bowed his head and turned on his heel. She winced at the pain piercing through her heart. He was her friend, yet she implied he was not entitled to share his thoughts. Nyzaia opened her mouth to call for him, but he had already welcomed in Soren’s wolf and left. Nyzaia was alone with her regret and confusion, no longer able to determine her feelings as the fallen queen grinned at the sight of her wolf bounding towards her. Soren collapsed to her knees and buried her face in his fur. Was Farid right?
