had to rescue the one who could save it. She’d worry about her heart later.
And she had to free Jared. He didn’t deserve this. One more turn, and she found narrow, curved steps that led to the first floor. Several times she heard muffled voices. Stepping softly, as she’d seen Faelan do, she came to a dead end. She searched the wall and found a notch. A section swung open and she saw steps leading down into a dark hole.
The dungeon.
Dank air coated her lungs as she crept down the stairs. Her flashlight cut a beam through the darkness. At the bottom, she stood still and listened. The lack of moaning was a relief, until she considered what the alternative could be. Moving quickly, she peered in the open doors and saw chains and torture instruments, but there was no sign of Faelan or Jared.
Deep in the dungeon, a dim light shone, no brighter than a night-light. Beyond it, she found two doors, both locked. On the wall between, she saw a glint of metal. She swung her flashlight. Two sets of keys. She grabbed them both and pointed her light at the lock. The first set worked. The lock clicked open. She pushed the heavy door, nerves crawling with every creak. Someone would surely hear.
The sight inside ripped all else from her mind. Faelan was half lying on a crude, stone surface, his hands chained so high on the wall his upper body dangled, his arm twisted awkwardly.
“Faelan?” She ran to him and pressed her ear to his heart. She heard the slow, steady thump. A ragged cry wrenched from inside her. “What are you doing here?” Holding the flashlight in her mouth, she ran her hands over him, checking for broken bones. His talisman was still under his shirt. Russell must not know its power. A huge lump marred one side of Faelan’s head, and his bottom lip was covered in blood where it had split. His cheek was discolored and raw.
Bree dropped a soft kiss on the side of his mouth and tugged in vain at the heavy chains. She tried the second key, but it took several tries to get the rusty lock open. She released his right wrist, gently lowering his arm onto his chest. His shoulder was dislocated. His head rolled to the side, the weight of his body digging the shackle deeper into the flesh of the wrist still trapped. She struggled to support his weight while she freed his left arm. He sagged against her, his shirt gapping open, his battle marks exposed. Tears trickled down her cheeks and dropped onto his chest as she held him.
“Faelan, wake up. We’ve got to go.” Her efforts to pull him to a sitting position were useless. She wasn’t strong enough to move him. And she still had to find Jared. A noise sounded outside, and she stopped breathing. It came again, the brush of a shoe on stone. Someone was coming, and they didn’t want to be heard. She checked that Faelan was lying secure before moving toward the door. A pile of rags lay in the corner, a boot beside it.
Jared?
“I’ll come back for you, Jared. I promise.” She turned off the light, stuck her head out, and saw a shadow dart into another hallway. Carrying her shoes, she felt her way back toward the secret passage. Her fingers shook as she searched for the notch. The stone wall scraped open. She hurried inside and closed the entrance, agonizing over each lost second.
After a minute of quiet, she slid her finger into the notch. A light tap sounded from outside. Yanking her hand back, she listened to the soft searching sounds on the other side. Easing away, she turned and fled, taking the first turn she saw, and soon found herself lost in a maze of tunnels.
She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed. Too long. Choosing a random direction, she ran into one dead end after another. She opened at least ten secret doors, expecting to be discovered, then she found a small, wooden doorway, surprising in a place made of stone. She eased it open and bumped into a huge tapestry. Pulling back the edge, she saw a room with several men—or creatures—seated at a table. They were discussing something in a language she couldn’t understand, but the emotion translated well. Excitement. She had to hurry. She stepped back and tiptoed the other way. One last turn, and she came to a wall that seemed familiar. She opened the door and stumbled onto the dungeon stairs, welcoming the musty air. Praying whoever was there had gone, she aimed her light and rushed toward the room where she’d left Faelan and Jared. She opened the heavy door. Empty chains dangled from the wall.
Faelan was gone.
It couldn’t have been him outside the secret passageway. He wasn’t even conscious. Bree moved toward Jared, still motionless in the corner. The back of his head was matted with blood, and he lay too still. Tears blurred her eyes as she knelt and rolled him over. She stared at his bloodied face, illuminated by her flashlight. Her body went cold. “No. God, no.”
The soft tap of a shoe behind her alerted her that she wasn’t alone. “Where have you hidden my warrior?” The voice was quiet. And terribly familiar. Bree slowly turned, her body weak with shock.
Druan.
Chapter 30
Faelan held tight to Conall’s shoulders as the fence came into view. “Slow down.” His shoulder ached, and his legs wobbled like a new foal’s.
“Can’t. Not if we want to get out of here alive.”
Conall pulled faster, and Faelan fought the churning in his stomach.
“Up you go,” Conall said, shoving Faelan over the fence. He teetered and fell to the other side, knocking the breath out of him. A second later, Conall landed beside him. He took Faelan’s arm, wrapped it around his shoulders, and dragged him forward. “Sorry about the arm. Your shoulder was dislocated. I had to put it back.”
“Bree… here,” Faelan said, as his throat struggled between pulling in air and getting rid of the vile stuff in his stomach.
“I’ll come back for her.” Shouts sounded behind them, and Conall pulled faster. “Hurry.”
“No. She’s a halfling.”
“A halfling? What’d they give you?” Conall pulled Faelan across the road, into the trees.
“…feel sick.”
“You’ll be better off if you throw up.”
