Page 12 of Broken Fate
“Then, we’ll finally get some answers.”
I stared at the silver armor of the guard’s backs as they headed down the corridor and out of the dungeons, leaving me with nothing but confusion and the flickering flame of two candles in a wall sconce nearby for company.
Water dripped from somewhere overhead, the impact of the droplet echoing in the silence of the cold, dark, damp prison cell.
What did they mean,finallyget some answers?
Chapter Seven
By the time someone came to fetch me for questioning, I was a soaked, shivering mess. My hair was limp and plastered to my face, and my clothing stuck to my skin. The only bench in the cell was covered with mold growth. My legs had demanded I sit after several hours. So, I had, hating it the entire time.
The candles on the wall were nearly burned to nubs. Hours must have passed, but just how many was anyone’s guess. Was it still night? Day? I didn’t know. I was tired, disoriented, and absolutely terrified.
Clanking armor was the first sound announcing the return of another living being. Several moments later, two guards came into view.
I was up and at the bars in an instant. There was no guarantee they had come for me, but at that point, fighting down any bit of hope was a fool’s game. I would have done just about anything to be let out.
“Stand back!” the nearest guard barked, banging a gauntleted fist against the bars.
Jerking away, I clutched at myself, trembling with fear and cold.
The second guard unsheathed a short sword and held it at his side, while the first unlocked the cell door and slid it open.
“Turn around. Hands on the wall!” came another sharp command.
I did as I was told. There was no thought of fighting back, of trying to escape. Cold metal cuffs were swiftly locked around my wrists, pinning my arms behind my back. Another set of metal was locked around my ankles, limiting me to a shuffle.
“Outside, now!”
There was none of the taunting chatter from earlier. No promises of what was to come. Only swift, harsh, barked commands that threatened immediate violence if I didn’t comply.
So, I did. What else was I to do? They had armor and swords. I had … nothing.
I was directed down the corridor and up a new set of stairs. Another corridor followed, much better lit with a window at the far end that let in lots of daylight.
It was morning then, at a minimum. Since I had no idea which direction the window faced, it was impossible to tell what time of day it was.
The guards stopped me in front of a metal door, which they opened, then marched me inside. A single table sat in the middle of the room. A plain metal stool sat on one side, with four thick metal rings on the ends of thick chains anchored into the ground. The guards sat me in the chair, roughly pushing on my shoulders to force me down. One held me there while the other secured my cuffs to the rings.
Then, they withdrew, leaving me to stare across the table at the much comfier, empty chair. Who was going to occupy it?
Nobody came into the room, and eventually, my attention was drawn from the chair to the rest of the room. I forced myself to sit up, bemoaning the lack of a backrest on mine, unlike the other.
The room was empty. Light filtered down from an opening above us, and fresh daylight shone in the center of the room, projecting a circle around the table and chairs. Torches hung on the walls, but they were unlit, their light not necessary. The corners of the room were shrouded in perfect darkness.
Silenced dragged on. At this rate, there didn’t seem to be much point in having moved me. Leaving me in the cell would have been the proper course of action if they wanted to intimidate me. So, why the rush just to have me wait?
“Who sent you?”
The voice echoed out of the darkness, and I yelped in surprise, twisting and turning, trying to find the source of the question.
“Who sent you?”
I shook my head. “Nobody. I came because it was my Fate Night. I turned twenty-one. It … it was my turn? I don’t understand your question. The law sent me, I guess? I don’t know.”
Silence followed.
“Who sent you?”
