Page 40 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
I slowly open my eyes.
That’s right. I can’t give up. I have so many things to look forward to. I want to read more books, hear more music and laughter, feel the sun on my skin. And there are people waiting for me.
Aelfric. Darstan. Garrett. Rainer. Lady Deirdre. Tallulla. Lenna.
Blaire… I need to get her back. I have also foolishly hidden that Grimsbane, Shade under the bushes. No one is going to find him if I’m dead.
Slowly, I begin to crawl until I hit a wall. There has to be a lantern nearby with this faint smell of dried oil. My hand fumbles on the cold marble stone until I feel the rough semblance of a torch.
I strike my dagger to initiate a spark.
“Grianna, please grant me light,” I pray to the Seventy-Seven. With the Goddess of Fire’s blessing, the flint burns into a glorious flame. I smile in triumph as my eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
It quickly falters the moment a breeze ruffles my hair. I’m not alone in this cavern.
Part II
The Wolf
Chapter 9 Rhianelle
“Show yourself,” I whisper, my voice echoing in the chamber.
Nothing stirs in the dark.
I steel my nerves to climb over the platform. The shadow slowly retreats with every step I take. There is a figure at the very top of this rise. Anxiety pools in my gut as I take a step closer to the statue.
My feet stagger over the darkened silhouette of a man.
He is shackled by his wrists without a single thread covering his body. The chains suspending him are stretched and spread in such a way that he will hang with no hope of reprieve. His jailers wouldn’t even allow him to kneel properly. It’s cruel and barbaric.
I wonder if this person is even alive. I venture closer towards him. It’s impossible to check for a pulse with the metal binding his wrists. I hunch down to press my head to his chest.
A heartbeat.
The slow and steady rhythm thunders in my ear. I close my eyes, listening to the beautiful sound.
He’s stuck here with no way to fend for himself. If the Ashmedai manages to break through, he is as good as dead.
I’ll have fun dicing you to pieces, little elf.
A crushing terror grips my heart at the demon’s promise. I need to get out of here fast. But I can’t leave this person to die.
“Hi,” my soft voice filters through the silence.
The prisoner makes no response.
I cradle his face in my hands to have a better look. My fingers move to trace the sharp outline of his jaw. I continue brushing them slowly on his brow and lips.
His eyelids slowly part.
Air disappears from my lungs the moment his eyes settle on me. The storm and dark fire in them are the kind that belong to ancient warriors or gods. I struggle to breathe under the piercing weight of that gaze.
The chains around the prisoner suddenly stir. There is something about them that just feel wrong.
Tendrils of shadow appear from the metal. I shrink away from the strangeness of the sight. The inky materials pulse and morph into phantom hands. I gasp as they latch on to the prisoner, consuming him into the dark. As if the cold, iron fetters weren’t enough, his captors placed a spell to bind him to this place.
A living, breathing curse.
