The door flung open, and strong hands seized her, pulling her in and yanking the hood from her head.
Guards! She wrestled with all her strength until a voice cut through the darkness, turning her blood cold.
“Welcome, Alina. We’ve been expecting you.”
Light flooded the room, and Alina let out a startled cry.
Hundreds of monitors blinked around her. She glimpsed Rex’s street, lit up in celebration with tangled lovers and wild dancers. Other screens revealed the inside of homes, the front gate of Gordian Palace, and the foyer with the exposed staircase she had just ascended. She swallowed.
Sampson, always watching. Even now, he glared at her as he ran his fingers along the hilt of a sheathed knife.
He stood up and walked to her. He lifted a long finger and stroked her cheek. She didn’t blink.
“Well done,” he whispered. “You played your part well.”
She held her voice steady. “What are you talking about?”
“Crome, make sure her wrists are tight.” The man holding her wrapped a rope around her wrists and fixed it into a hard knot. She winced.
A ping rang out. Sampson kept his eyes on Alina as he lifted a small panel and tapped it. “Yes?”
“Rex is in the dungeon. Everything went as planned.”
Sampson flashed his white teeth. “Perfect.”
He clicked off the screen. “Yes, well played. Although, I am a little disappointed. I expected more rebels to show up in a vain rescue attempt. I know Rex doesn’t work alone.”
Alina’s nostrils flared, then her eyes darted to the knife in his hand.
Sampson raised the dagger. “If you think I’d leave this in a room available to anyone in my palace, you highly underestimate my intelligence.”
Alina opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“When I take you down to your friend Rex, you can tell him he’s far too trusting. I also have my spies.” Sampson smiled coldly.
Alina bit her tongue. I walked right into a trap. I should’ve stopped when something felt wrong. But if Sampson carried the dagger himself, no plan would’ve worked.
“Do you always carry that with you?” she asked.
“Oh no, that would be too dangerous. It travels around my palace, and security moves with it. I am the only one who wields it.” He returned the knife to its sheath on his belt. “That will do, Crome. I’ll take her now.”
He grabbed Alina’s arm and pulled her out of the room and down a maze of hallways and stairs. As they moved deeper into the palace, the floor changed from marble to stone, and the light in the corridors dimmed. They reached a high arched door where Sampson tapped in a code, then entered a narrow stairwell. Sampson turned sideways as he descended, and Alina’s shoulders brushed the walls. Her chest felt tight.
The tightness moved to her throat and closed in, like the stone around her. She wrenched out her arms to stop the enclosing walls, and the rope loosened and almost fell from her hands. Alina stiffened with shock, then lifted her chin and smiled. Either Crome didn’t know how to tie a knot, or he’d helped her.
The passage opened into an empty antechamber, and Sampson turned, fixing his stern eyes on her as if waiting for her to speak. She didn’t meet his glare but stared at the ground. Her hands would help her only if she caught him off guard.
Strange sounds echoed from the darkness: a deep, guttural growl, and an unintelligible chatter, like a woman speaking two octaves higher than normal. A man’s voice sang a hollow, choppy song, as if something pounded his back. A cold chill tickled Alina’s spine.
“Who are they?” she rasped.
Sampson’s eyes flashed in the dim light. “Do you think I’d make life pleasant for my traitors? That with one painless swipe of this dagger, I’d send them to Carthem without paying for their crimes? Now, don’t misunderstand me—the stories of Carthem are true. It is a terrifying place because I make it so. They suffer here, then are sent there to suffer more.” He heaved an inflated sigh. “If people would just believe what I tell them—that they’re lucky to live in Pria, life would be so much better for them.”
“What can you do to them?” Alina scoffed. “They’re immortal! You can’t starve them or hurt them—they can’t feel pain! What do you do—bore them to madness?” Her heart stopped as she spoke the words.
Sampson flashed a dark, knowing smile. “These people have been coddled their whole lives,” he stressed. “They’ve had one thrill after another: party after party, tryst after tryst. They’re accustomed to beautiful scenery and people. You put them in a dark place like this, by themselves, and before long they start to break down. You see, Alina, while I have full control over the body, I have yet to conquer the mind.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I have created a true utopia where no one is in want. Physically speaking, that is. The needs of mortals are simple: they must eat, drink, and sleep. When these basic needs are met, as they are for immortals, they move onto more addictive, sensual needs: refreshment, entertainment, gratification for the eyes and body. If it’s a carnal desire, Pria can grant it, but beyond those pleasures, things get tricky. Mental and emotional desires create chaos. To be a ruler with absolute power, one must control all the cravings of its subjects.”
“I see,” Alina realized. “You control them by focusing so much on carnal needs, they don’t think about deeper ones.”
Sampson chuckled. “Yes, but the best part is, everyone worships me as a wise and peaceful ruler. As long as I keep Pria pleasant and satisfying to their bodily pleasures, they rely on me. Instant gratification makes people weak—easy to govern and manipulate. The unfortunate ones who end up here are begging for mercy within minutes.
