Page 56 of Twisted By Darkness

CHAPTER28

APOLLO

The Little Palace is nothing like the Palaces I’ve seen on TV, at least not from the inside. And the Collector doesn’t have much taste in design. Empty gray walls, devoid of decoration, lead us into a massive room. It reminds me of prison corridors. The ceiling is so tall and so perfectly dark one can’t see it from down here.

The message is clear. This room is not worth decorating, from the Collector’s point of view. From the cages dotting the area, this is the Menagerie. The place we have come after.

Tristan hesitates for a moment, but he takes the lead. The hellhound rushes ahead next to him. After a brush of hands with Cassandra, Ren changes into his wolf, and the rest of us advance after the gargoyle.

I have seen gargoyle shifters before. They’re one of the strongest creatures out there. Made of stone, hard as rock, their punches are to be awed at. Tristan hadn’t had the time or the tutoring to explore his powers, and that might become a disadvantage.

Something tells me we will face Kayn sooner or later. He wants Cassandra too much to let her go. Even if we took cover in the witch’s place, I know he would find a way inside. He would break her wards, he would put the very walls down to get to Cassandra if he’s the way Donatello described his maker.

Whatever he wants of her, it’s clear he’ll do anything to get it. He won’t stop, and when we’re forced to face him, we will need all the help we can get. I’ll have to help Tristan with his powers somehow.

The dim blue lights almost make the place seem peaceful. It reflects off the metal in the cages, though the glass is so transparent it’s like it isn’t there. We pass a line of plant-like creature, probably sentients from the Twilight Realm, then onto a series of aquariums with deep-sea creatures. It’s both amazing and scary how the Collector gained access to these, when the Twilight Realm is so protected, and the deep sea so unreachable.

A merman hisses at us as we pass. Cassandra falters, glancing not at him, but at the empty cell next to him. I don’t know why, but there’s sadness in her gaze. She moves on after Tristan calls her twice.

He stops in front of a cage. The man inside is naked, his pale skin covered in freckles. The prisoner lifts his red-haired head to gape at us with a doubtful, vivid green glance. He narrows his gaze, looking at us, at each of us, studying our expressions, wondering where we came from.

“Will you fight?” asks Tristan, his whisper shattering the silence.

The man shoots to his feet. Bright orange hair curls down his chest as he pulls back his shoulders. “Fight?” he asks in a thick Scottish accent. “Against that filthy thief? Aye. Aye, I will fight.”

He looks like a man, but if there’s anyone among us who knows where to go, it’s Tristan. Cassandra searches for the fae’s stone that’s supposed to break through wards. I have never seen something do that. The fae must have had powerful contacts.

Cassandra grips the stone between two fingers and presses the tip to the glass. Nothing happens. She forces it harder.

“Shit,” she breathes out. Was she supposed to do something else? Were there spell words or something of the sort? Did we even consult Giulia on this? The urgency makes my blood boil. I shoot a glance at the way ahead. Empty. For the moment. I snap my head to the other side, searching the path we came from. Donatello’s gaze meets mine, and he looks as worried as I am.

“Y’er a witch, lass?” the man behind the glass asks.

Cassandra stops. “A mage. Why?”

He shrugs. “Ye need some magic to break wards.”

The obvious quality of his words makes me want to scoff, but Cassandra steels her spine. She curses under her breath. “Of course,” she murmurs, then holds the stone in her palm for a moment before pressing the tip to the glass again.

This time, the shadows curl around her, shooting from every nook and cranny to her feet. She sucks them in, and something else happens. The tip of the stone traces a glowing light on the glass, and Cassandra moves it in a straight line to her right, then down, creating a window. When she pulls back, that part of the glass disappears, as if it had never been there.

The man inside nods, tilting his lips downward. “Not bad, lass,” he greets.

Tristan doesn’t stop for introductions. He starts down the corridor again. I pick up my pace to walk next to him.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“He’s a kelpie. He’s told me once he’s very strong even in his human form,” the gargoyle says, not faltering his step. I nod, though he doesn’t see it, and we keep moving, opening some other cages.

A fox with more tails than I can count turns into a human when we approach. A green-skinned man with tusks and bigger than Tristan himself joins us. Then a creature with the body of a very muscular woman and the head of a black cow. Tristan clearly put effort into this, going through all the creatures who seemed strong. Cassandra frees a handful of them, and it’s with relief I notice she’s not even out of breath. Her training is paying off.

Oh, the things she will do once she has control over her darkness.

Someone calls out from the corridor behind us. A yell. Urgent steps.

“They found us out,” I say.

“They missed someone,” Tristan offers at the same time. The empty cells we left behind are not the only ones, but maybe the way Cassandra sliced through the glass was a tell.

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