Page 81 of Destined for Dreams
Chapter 21
Bartol
Bartol had never felt colder or more bereft of any other sensation in his life. He couldn’t move no matter how much he tried. It seemed as if a thousand tons of rock pressed down on every part of his body, preventing him from lifting so much as a finger. And his soul was being drained, stripped away one piece at a time.
He was going to die if he did not free himself soon.
As soon as that terrifying thought entered his mind, he panicked and began trying to suck in air like a drowning man. Too many times he’d been tortured in similar ways by Kerbasi, but this was worse, much worse. It was as if he’d been taken over completely. His brain was so foggy he could hardly put together a coherent thought, and when he did, it slipped away moments later. Even his fear could not last long, and after a small battle, he lost the will to keep fighting.
Time passed slowly. For what seemed like a lifetime, only the cold penetrated the solid cocoon wrapped around his mind and body. But then a glimmer of strength and awareness flowed into him, and through darkened waters, he fought to swim to the surface. It was a struggle the whole way, but he didn’t give up. Something told him he had no time to waste.
He gasped his first breath of cool, stale air, catching a hint of moisture and decay. The scent was familiar to him and not all that different from the deep caverns of Purgatory. Bartol opened his eyes, finding himself in total darkness. He pushed to get up but groaned at the pain and weakness suffusing his entire body. Once more, he was reminded of his time as Kerbasi’s prisoner, so he gritted his teeth and fought through the discomfort to rise into a sitting position.
No matter how much he concentrated, though, he could see nothing. Listening intently, he caught the faint trickle of water sliding down rocks, and there was a second heartbeat approximately twelve feet from him. Bartol wasn’t alone.
“Who’s there?”
A pair of feet shuffled against the stone floor. “It’s me.”
“Caius?”
“Yes,” the other nephilim replied. “We appear to be in some kind of underground cavern, but I cannot find a way out.”
Bartol’s last memories returned to him in a flash of images, with Haagenti as the central figure. They’d never stood a chance. The demon had taken them without so much as a fight and wrapped them up in balls of dark energy. For what purpose, he could only imagine since they were still alive.
At least, two of them were. “Where’s Tormod?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know. I woke up perhaps an hour ago with only you lying next to me. You would not rouse, so I spent my time searching every inch of our surroundings. It appears we’re trapped.”
In a cave of all places—the absolute last place Bartol wanted to be.
“How did we get here?” he asked.
“I have no idea, nor do I know how long we’ve been in this place. Our watches, cell phones, and bags have all been taken. All we have left is the clothes on our backs,” Caius said, moving closer.
Bartol tried to pull on enough power to flash somewhere, anywhere. There was nothing. It was as if he’d been drained like a car battery with no charge left, but what had drained them? In Purgatory, a nephilim’s powers weakened over time due to the low oxygen levels and the mystical chains binding them. The unique ore used to forge the manacles had natural magic dampening properties. That wouldn’t be the case here, but it couldn’t be the Gregorian stones either because it wasn’t the same kind of draining. This was very different and felt as if the draining reached Bartol’s very soul.
But as the minutes passed and he remained awake, his body started regaining a little strength. He felt around him until his fingertips grazed a cool, stone wall. He scooted closer to it and used a crevice to help him rise to his feet. Dizziness swept through him, but he managed to fight through it, only swaying once. After he was certain he would not fall, he started searching the cavern one step at a time to see if Caius had missed anything. Surely, they could not be trapped there forever.
After moving a handful of feet, his palms scraped against a collection of jagged rocks. Checking high and low, Bartol discovered there was a large pile of them that went higher than his head. “I’m guessing this was the entrance, and perhaps the demon collapsed it?”
“That was my assumption, except…” Caius paused, and his feet shuffled closer. “He had to know we’d eventually wake up and regain our strength.”
“I’m starting to feel better physically, but none of my powers have returned,” Bartol said, wishing he could at least gain enough strength to make his skin glow. Then he could at least see around him.
“It is the same for me. I’ve been fully drained a few times before, but in those cases, it only took a few hours before my powers began to return. This time, I’ve still got nothing.”
That wasn’t good news for either of them. “Do you think he intends to leave us trapped here forever? One would think he’d rather kill us instead.”
Caius stepped closer. “There must be some point to this we’re missing, but I’m not certain what it could be. For now, we must keep looking for a way out. Just because he hasn’t killed us yet does not mean he won’t eventually—or use us for something else.”
“Agreed.”
Bartol resumed his search in earnest. Every fiber of his being told him Caius was right and that whatever reasons the demon had chosen to put them there, he’d kept them alive to return at some point. They did not want to be there when he did.
His palms pressed against jagged rocks that didn’t budge no matter how much he pushed. He didn’t have much strength to give, but it was enough for the edges to cut into his palms and make them bleed. Without his powers, he was healing far slower than usual. Unwilling to let the biting pain get him down, he didn’t stop trying. The one advantage he had from decades of torture at Kerbasi’s hands was that Bartol could endure endless pain. He tested the whole area high and low before moving on to the smooth-facing walls making up the rest of the cave.
In one section, water dribbled down. Bartol had become so thirsty during his search that he couldn’t resist and craned his neck to catch some of the drops in his mouth. Who knew how long it had been since he’d last eaten or drank anything? Perhaps days or weeks.
