Chapter 15
Ambrose
With the Godsdamned note clenched in my fist, I kicked the door down. I had no idea how much of a head start she had on me, but I would find her before she reached my ma, that much I vowed. Ava didn’t know what she was going after – killing the Queen meant going through Thorne, and that was impossible.
The guards in the hall turned in alarm to see the door hit the ground, locks broken and useless. They raised their spears towards me, reeking of terror.
‘Easy,’ I told them carefully. ‘I’ve no desire to hurt you, but I must leave here.’
One of them sprinted away to inform Marla and the warder, but the other stayed put, spear tip touching my chest, trembling slightly with his hands. He was barely more than a child, his eyes shifting between yellow and blue, over and over again.
Holding those eyes, I reached up for the spear, moving very slowly. With one hand, I snapped the metal end off and dropped it to the ground. ‘Out of my way, lad,’ I ordered softly. As frightened as he was, he didn’t move, this Kayan kid. Too many ways in the world for me to be wrong – too many things I was understanding too late. I smiled at him, humbled by his courage, and then I pushed past and strode down the hall.
I knew something then, deep in my guts – this war between Pirenti and Kaya was over. It had to be. I’d die to make it so.
But first my girl. Find my girl.
The warder was waiting for me at the top of the marble steps, the sea stretching out behind him. I met his white eyes.
‘You know what’s in my heart,’ I said. ‘I have to stop her before she gets herself killed.’
‘You’ve got no faith in her.’
‘Bullshit,’ I snarled. ‘I love that girl more than anyone in this world does.’
‘That’s not what I said.’
I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar way they throbbed when violence was upon me.
‘You don’t think she can do it.’
‘No one can do it,’ I said flatly.
And then he said, ‘You could.’ A smile, an empty thing. ‘But you’re too cowardly.’
I stared at him, the words all too clear in my ears.
‘I cannot let you leave,’ the warder added.
My mind shifted into focus mode. Many years ago my brother had taught me a trick, and it had turned out to be the most important lesson I’d ever learn. A warder’s power came from the fact that they sensed things on a different level. They could reach their awareness out and behold everything that you were and would be, and thus understand the very nature of your actions. If you could shut out their awareness, however, they held no power over your mind. It had sounded impossible when Thorne first explained this, but it wasn’t. There were two Marks over my heart, and they were there because of Thorne. I was alive because of Thorne, more than twice, more times than I could count.
I moulded my mind into the sphere of emptiness that my brother had taught me. He and I had practised this so many times over the years that it was simple now. My body started to move on its own, instinctively. My head was a white space – another space. For these precious moments, it had nothing to do with how I moved – the warder would never be able to reach me with it.
He moved his hands and I knew he’d sent a command into my mind for me to freeze. I felt nothing. Marla appeared between us like an apparition, sword drawn. She was nothing – disarmed with a simple twist of her wrist. I was moving towards the warder again. More commands flew at me, but my mind was empty and impenetrable. The hours and hours of repetitive training Thorne had made me endure had taken over.
I sprinted straight towards the warder, ducking and avoiding all the power bursting from him, and then I leapt through the air, flipping to land behind him. I grabbed him by the neck and tightened my grip sharply.
‘Don’t move,’ I growled. ‘Don’t even think about moving, or I’ll snap your neck.’
The warder froze, bristling with fury and confusion.
‘All it takes to defeat a monster like you is strength of mind,’ I informed him with a cold smile. ‘Now let me go or you die, along with a great deal of the people on this mountain.’
He didn’t say anything, nor did he move. Marla was staring at us, looking very frightened. ‘Let him go,’ she tried to order, shakily.
‘If you agree to let me leave,’ I said.
‘So you can tell your Queen we’re here?’ Marla exclaimed. ‘You leave and we’re all dead.’
‘Tell her,’ I ordered the warder, tightening my hold painfully.
He turned to Marla. ‘This man will not speak of us. I can see it.’
Marla’s mouth fell open. I didn’t have time to explain. As I let go of the warder I started to sprint down the steps, hundreds and hundreds of them.
I was halfway up the beach when I realised something.
I could feel it – a tingling. A very faint caress inside my skin. My footsteps faltered and I spun around, peering along the length of the rocky cove. No one had followed me from the marble village. There was not a soul in sight.
I turned to continue, but the caress became a pull – a gentle tug that made me gasp in shock. What was it? Spinning wildly, I still couldn’t see anything, and my heart was starting to pound, unnerved by the surreal sensation. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I felt the tingle start to move over every inch of my skin. Whatever it was, it was drawing nearer. Approaching with a rhythm very much like the swell and fall of waves, closer and closer, up and down, in and out.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the … touch. Something was touching me – on the inside.
And then.
And then I knew. Just like that – a breath of air, a moment of deepest clarity. I opened my eyes and turned to where I knew he would be, and as I waited for him I could barely breathe with the force of love pounding through me, love with every one of his wing-beats.
Ava
I came to in a cell. Again. But this time the man standing over me was not Ambrose. This time I was naked and tied to the wall. And this time I knew what was going to happen to me.
I’d known, even years ago, that if ever I was to enter Pirenti, I would have to dress as a man, or be raped. I had made a decision based on this reality, and yet I had never once allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like to look into the eyes of a man who wanted to harm me so deeply. A man like the one who was, at this moment, preparing himself to torture me in the worst possible way.
‘We kill Kayans for nothing,’ he told me. ‘Because we like to. So can you imagine what we do to Kayans who murder three of our soldiers.’
I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
He was heating a brand in a small iron oven as he spoke to me. I could feel the heat of it from where I hung. ‘You have no fear in your eyes,’ he said. ‘I will find it for you, your fear, and bring it to this room.’
I smiled. He could try.
In our first session he burnt my body, focusing most of his attention on my breasts. He liked that I was a woman, and he wanted to ruin the parts of me that made me one. The brand he used to torture me was ironic in so many ways – it was the house sigil of the Barbarian Queen, the woman who had killed my mate. The house sigil of her elder son, the slaughterman of Pirenti. The house sigil of her younger son.
A small outline of a howling wolf, burnt into my body, over and over again.
His name was Corrin. He was the prison master. He didn’t usually do any of the torturing himself, but for me he’d made an exception. All of this he told me as he burnt me. He remained expressionless throughout – always so expressionless. After a few hours he stopped to let me rest. He informed me that he’d be back after he’d eaten, and we’d resume. I told him I’d look forward to it, but really, I’d never wanted to die so much in my life. The pain was everything. It eclipsed even Avery.
The cells had no walls – they were divided only by iron bars. Through them I could see other prisoners, rows and rows of them. They were all men, and they were all staring at my naked body, tied to the wall and burnt to pieces.
It came to me slowly that some of them were jeering or whistling or shouting things at me. But there was an older man in the cell next to mine who said nothing and stared not at my body but at my eyes. My gaze found his, through the yellow of sunset, and I saw it turn purple to match mine.
I nearly started weeping, so profound was the moment of connection.
‘What’s your name, sweetheart?’ he asked me softly.
And it was such a simple question, such a beautiful one, that I decided to tell him the truth. ‘Ava. My name is Ava. I’m a woman.’
His head tilted slightly, trying to see if maybe I’d lost my mind during the last few hours. ‘I’m Saverio. You can call me Sav. I’m a man.’
My dry, cracked lips broke into a smile. ‘Yes, you are.’
‘I heard him say that you killed three guards.’
There were others listening now – most prisoners had stopped making any noise, too curious to miss hearing our conversation. The heavy slap of waves against stone drifted through the windows, all unbarred. My eyes moved to the orange light of sunset beyond those windows. ‘Can you not climb out?’ I rasped.
‘Some have tried. They’ve all dropped straight to their deaths, smashed against the rocks by the waves.’
Sav was white haired and very malnourished. There were countless scars all over his body, gouged into his flesh – proof of the years he had spent here. The wolf had bitten its mark in his cheek, too, just like all the Kayans in the marble town.
‘I know people have escaped,’ I told him. ‘I’ve met some.’
Sav looked at me sadly. ‘They didn’t escape, sweetheart. They were Scraps – put out into the wilderness by the pigs, so ruined by torture that they couldn’t possibly survive.’
I closed my eyes, feeling woozy. Every breath I took stretched the skin on my chest agonisingly. ‘They survived,’ I whispered, too softly for anyone to hear.
‘You’re strong,’ Saverio told me.
I gave a choking laugh; I could taste blood in my mouth. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘You haven’t screamed.’
Hadn’t I?
‘But you will. Even the strongest scream in the end. You’ll scream your throat raw, and you’ll tear your own skin off.’
Was this meant to make me feel better?
‘What you must do is find a talisman,’ he told me. ‘Find something you love deep in your heart, and hold onto it so tightly that he can’t reach it, even when he does his worst – even when he ruins every other part of you.’
I looked down at my body. There were pink, puffy burns all over it, some of which oozed pus, some of which had gone black and yellow. Little red wolves over every inch of my skin.
‘I’ve already let go of everything I love,’ I answered.
After the second round of torture, which he finished by branding my face, Corrin untied me and left me free on the ground. The face brand made me feel strangely like I was part of a club, a survivor’s club, but I didn’t know how long I would be part of this club. I was too pathetic to be able to do anything, so I lay quietly and listened to the waves.
It came to me quite simply, sometime after nightfall. An idea. It was because I was thinking of the last night I’d spent in a dungeon cell, trying to sleep beside a woman who could not stop counting.
And so it came to be that Roselyn of Pirenti was going to help me get free of this prison.
Ambrose
I was quite certain the damn pegasis was enjoying my terror. Every time he turned, he swooped so low that I nearly fell, then righted himself at the last minute and whinnied his amusement at my cursing. If I weren’t so freaked out, I’d take pleasure in his enjoyment, because I could feel a measure of it in my own chest, just as I could feel his bond with Ava. A burning bright thing that would lead us to her.
Stroking his soft mane, I talked to him gently as we flew, sensing that my voice kept him calm and easy. He had flown an incredibly long way to find me, and he had been terribly weary by the time he reached the beach, so we’d been resting all afternoon. I’d found him fresh water and plenty of grass to eat, and we’d sat in the jungle and chatted.
In the backs of our minds, the fronts of our hearts, she was always there, waiting, making it nearly impossible to sit still. We both knew what was at stake – Migliori was as desperate as I was to find her – but he was likely to fly himself to death if I did not force him to rest a while.
As the sun began to sink, we set off, tracking the soul scent she’d left behind for Migliori to follow. I couldn’t understand it like he seemed to – all I was aware of was a faint trail of Ava. It was much easier for him to follow than it would have been for me. I was lost pretty much as soon as we set off, but he flew on into the night, his wing-beats steady and powerful.
When he brought me, at last, to the prison, I knew a moment of deepest dread, because a part of me had always known she would end up here, one way or another – it was my deepest nightmare come to life. I had done this. I had condemned my own bondmate to the worst torture the world could imagine, and I had doggedly brought her here, stubborn and stupid and unforgivable.
Ava
Every seventh wave was big enough to carry an object away from the rocks instead of straight back into them. I’d been counting all night, and that was what I had discovered.
All I needed to find now was the strength to throw myself from the window and swim as hard as I’d ever done. Only problem was that I could barely move an inch of my body.
‘The seventh wave,’ I mumbled incoherently.
‘What’s that, sweetheart?’ I heard Saverio ask from our adjoining bars.
‘Every seventh wave,’ I tried to tell him. He needed to know so that he could get free too, but my mouth was swollen so badly I couldn’t speak properly. Dragging myself into a sitting position, I opened my swollen eyes blearily. ‘Jump on the seventh wave.’
He looked at me pityingly, sure I was rambling. ‘You just go to sleep there, girl. You’ll feel better with some rest.’
Clutching onto the grooves in the stone wall, I painstakingly hauled myself to my feet. I was shaking terribly and pain was sheathing through every inch of me.
‘Don’t try to move, Ava,’ Sav bid me, ‘you’ll make it worse.’
A few of the other prisoners started jeering again, once they saw me rising. There were just as many Pirenti men here as Kayans, which I might have found interesting had I not been in such agony.
‘Just lie down!’ he tried again, but I wasn’t listening – I was focused completely on the waves.
I heard the sound of an enormous one crashing against the rocks below, and I started to count, dragging myself up towards the window, clutching with fingers that were bled raw and missing nails. I couldn’t see much, as my eyes were swollen almost closed, but I could hear the ocean, and I could smell it so intensely I thought for a moment that I might be hallucinating. Trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, I hauled myself up, moaning in weary, debilitating pain. My weak, weak arms were so sore, but I pushed them, forced them – I forced myself as I had never done before, through blind despair and a sorrow so deep it turned my bones to dust.
Sav had been right – I was screaming now as I climbed that tiny length of wall, pulling myself up onto the ledge and gripping the rough surface. But I had a talisman – someone I loved very, very much – and I held onto him so tightly while I climbed that his image in my mind became bigger than the pain. Making it onto that window was the greatest triumph of my life. I swayed in woozy, delirious joy – counting, counting, counting.
‘You’ll be smashed to death!’ Sav shouted at me.
I couldn’t manage any more than a shake of my head, before I heard a loud bang from the far end of the cells.
‘That’s Corrin!’ Sav hissed. ‘Get down!’
Shit. I couldn’t jump yet – the waves were only up to number two. The banging drew closer as the prisoners hammered on their bars to note Corrin’s progress through the passageway. As the sound grew and grew – drawing nearer with every passing moment – I listened only to the waves, praying for them to hurry.
Three … four … The lock on my cell clicked loose, and then the bars swung open behind me.
‘Coward,’ Corrin spat at me. ‘Didn’t even last a day.’
Five … He moved towards me, his boots clumping loudly over the flagstones, almost drowned out by the screams and hisses of the prisoners. They were watching the spectacle closely to see whether I’d choose to jump to my death now or remain to endure more torture.
Fuck – come on.
Corrin reached me just as the sixth wave crashed, and I knew I had to jump. His hand on my arm felt almost as painful as the damned brand had been, and I was so weak I could barely manage to shrug him off. In a moment of divine intervention – or perhaps just plain, old stubbornness – I clenched my teeth and swung my elbow, clocking him in the nose hard enough to snap his head backwards in surprise. It gave me the moment I needed to I hurl myself out the window – down, down, down into the wildly violent sea below.
Ambrose
Inside the prison, no one seemed to have a clue who I was talking about. None of the guards recognised me, so I wasted time showing them my tattoo, but after bowing in shocked fear and obeisance, they were still unable to tell me if there’d been anyone brought in today.
Something was raging upstairs – it almost sounded like a riot. I bypassed the protesting guards and sprinted up the stone spiral steps, my legs taking them three at a time, my heart thumping in my chest. Where is she where is she where is she where is she—
I arrived at a sight that made my stomach curl – rows and rows of tiny cells holding starving and tortured prisoners, so weak and wounded that they were wasting away. The stench was Gods-awful, the worst damn thing I’d ever smelt in my life. Human waste, rot and dying flesh hit me in the face and nearly made me gag.
I stormed down the corridor – past shouting and wailing prisoners who were worked up into some kind of frenzy – until I came to the cell at the very end. Its door was wide open, and inside was a very large Pirenti man. He turned from the window to look at me expressionlessly.
‘What in the name of the Sword is going on here?’ I barked.
His eyes flashed – he didn’t like me. ‘Remove yourself from my prison cell, or I’ll lock you in it permanently.’
And by Gods, I was spoiling for a fight. This man was very, very close to dying.
‘You’re the prison master?’ I snapped, somehow managing to hold onto the edges of my temper.
‘Who I am is of no concern to you, except as the man who will make you very uncomfortable if you don’t report yourself and your presence on my isle.’
‘Your isle?’ I didn’t have time for this. I couldn’t see her anywhere – I couldn’t feel her. Very slowly I said, ‘This isle, this prison, every one of these prisoners, and you – all belong to me.’
His lip curled and I could see he wanted to fight me just as much as I wanted to fight him.
‘Answer me carefully,’ I went on, just as softly. ‘I’m looking for a woman. Have there been any in this prison, captured today or last night?’
He stared at me, unperturbed by the danger in my tone. ‘The last woman in this prison died months ago.’
My heart lurched in relief so profound it coloured my vision white for a single long second, but I didn’t let it show – I continued to watch the man’s eyes. ‘And the other guards will second that?’
‘You question my honour now?’ he asked furiously. ‘You will be very badly punished for this disrespect.’ The man drew a whistle from his lips and gave it a sharp blast. Before long other guards were crowding into the corridor, and the prisoners finally fell blessedly silent, enthralled. I was going to enjoy this.
‘State your name for the record,’ the prison master ordered crisply with a smile.
I met his dark eyes and gave him a grin of my own – a wolfish thing, dark and crooked like my dark and crooked heart. ‘My name is Prince Ambrose of Pirenti, son of the Queen of our nation, second in line for the royal throne. If you wish to challenge me, you had best make a formal statement before these witnesses, and then you may proceed with whatever punishment you’re able to bestow.’
There was dead silence in the prison – every man there stared at me while I stared at the prison master. His face went white as parchment, his lips the colour of bone. I had never seen humiliation so deep, never experienced the way it sucked the air from the world. There were at least a dozen guards and many more prisoners who had just witnessed his unmanning. If he did not fight me now, the prison master was as good as dead anyway – someone here would challenge his authority, as any fear or respect he might have maintained was now gone.
‘I … I didn’t know …’ he tried.
‘And nor did you ask,’ I murmured. ‘A great mistake, as it has turned out. What’s your name?’
‘Corrin.’
‘What’s it to be then, Corrin?’
‘I …’ he swallowed. ‘I have no need of your throne, Your Highness.’
‘That’s very true, but you don’t have any need of your position here either. Perhaps a stay in this cell would suit you best.’
His eyes widened in horror.
‘You might avoid this fate if you tell me the truth,’ I snarled. ‘Have you seen a woman, possibly dressed as a young boy? She would have come through here today or last night. I need you to think carefully – it’s important to me that I find her.’
Corrin stared at me, and the silence was sharp. ‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘We only had two new prisoners through here today, and they were men – both deserters off the ship from Pirenti.’
‘And the ship they arrived on – has it departed?’
‘Yes, Your Highness. This evening.’
I nodded – Ava must have stowed away on it. I would have smiled at her resourcefulness had I not been too worried about how dangerous it would be for her on that ship.
I turned to glance at the prisoners, then looked back at Corrin. ‘This place is filthy. You and your men will clean it from top to bottom, and you’ll start treating these men with respect. I want fresh, clean water and food brought for them three times a day – to begin with.’
Corrin appeared just as horrified by this as by anything else I’d told him.
‘There is to be no torture or physical punishment of any kind,’ I added. ‘Things are about to change, boys. There’s no place for this kind of brutality in the Pirenti I shall build. I will be back in the coming months to make some serious adjustments to this place, and when I get back I expect all my orders to have been taken care of.’
Shooting the guards and their master a final, steely look, I turned on my heel and headed for the stairs.