Page 124 of Ruthless Scoundrel
“I’ve got it!” Reina calls.
I turn back and grab the stone she’s holding. We pull until the rubble shifts and we see a stairway. I can feel them—my people. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as we descend the dark stairs. Torches flicker at the bottom and I grab one, then hand the other to Reina.
It’s stone all around us, but the electricity of my clan, my family, is so near. We reach an intersection with two paths, one that smells wet to the right, and the other ahead that’s dry.
“Mother!” I call in our tongue.
A soft wail bounces off the walls to the right.
They’re here. My family.
My body is beaten and drained, but the draw of their voices spurs me on. I grab Reina’s hand and charge down the right hallway. Something glints on the wall at another intersection and I find a key ring hanging on a hook beside a doused torch. I light the new one with mine, then grab the keys.
“Here,” a weak voice calls ahead in my people’s tongue.
We stumble forward in the dank dungeon until we reach a locked pen. Sloshing water and reflective eyes greet us on the other side.
“Just hang on,” I say.
I push the first key into the lock and twist, then the next, and the next. My hands are trembling.
“Let me,” Reina says, taking the keys. Her hands are steady and sure. She’s strong and determined.
I hold the torch higher and investigate the cell beyond. There’s a lowered pool and at least ten of my people are pressed up against the edge, their sallow, sunken faces full of hope. A heavy chain is wrapped around a wheel and connects to the back wall where a dark gate lies. The placid rippling of the still sea beyond filters in.
“Got it,” Reina says as the tumbler clicks. She pulls open the door and steps aside for me to enter first.
The stink of waste, carcasses, and more is pungent here. I hold the torch above the pool, and the selkies avert their gazes, shielding themselves from the bright light.
None of them are my mother. Nor my sister, or father. My swelling heart breaks, but I know I can’t let my body rest until they’re free. They’re not my family, but they are my people.
I pass Reina my torch and move to the wheel at the left side of the room. It has to lift the gate. It has to.
“We’re too weak to swim far, my prince,” one of the older females says. I recognize her now despite the changes in her body. Hai’na, our history keeper. “He detained us here for disobeying. It’s been many weeks.”
“Can you shift? We can carry you out.”
Hai’na shakes her head. “There is nothing left of us.”
“Don’t say that! We can get you out. We can—we can ask Al’shan’hai’goi.”
“What’s happening?” Reina asks.
“They can’t swim,” I tell her.
Her face shifts from concern to resolve. “Then we’ll carry them.”
“Little ones,” booms the echoing voice of the god of the deep. “A vessel is approaching.”
Fuck.
“Hai’na, where are the rest of you?” I ask.
“The other pens are on this level. But he sends us out when his magic takes hold,” she says, lifting an orange pendant that’s chained around her neck. “They may not be here.”
Hewascontrolling them. But how?
No. No time to worry about that now.
