Page 21 of The Edge of Darkness

“First one’s the worst one,” Remic said as he yanked the next spike out.

Niall’s body shuddered, and he whooshed out another breath. He flicked his eyes to Remic’s with a glare that said, lying bastard.

The blood continued to flow as Remic worked his way down Niall’s right arm, but by the middle of the left arm, the streams of red seemed to slow. Niall shifted uncomfortably when Remic moved to his legs, anticipating the removal of the nails protruding from his inner thighs. But with a commanding nod, he braced himself, and Remic pulled two at a time, opting for speed over comfort. Once the last nail was out, Niall sagged with relief.

“Until we get these shackles off you, you’re going to continue to bleed,” Remic said, reaching for his sword, but he halted as Maeson stepped forward.

“Allow me,” she offered, crouching with a bright flame at her fingertip. Niall lifted his arms as best he could.

The flame at her finger glowed white-hot as she brought it up to the iron cuff and swiped it in one smooth motion along its breadth. It clattered to the ground, and the molten edges hissed in the puddled water. She made quick work of the other three shackles, and when the last one came free, the blood flow came to an immediate standstill at his wounds.

She remained crouched in front of him, digging through her satchel. “Here, chew on this. It will soak up the last of whatever poison is still in your system and help to speed up the return of your strength.”

Niall took it and ate the bundle in one bite. “Wish one of you could summon some water right about now,” he joked as he forced the dried herbs down his throat with a dramatic swallow.

We all chuckled softly at his attempted humor as Remic helped him stand.

At least whatever trance he was under didn’t completely damage him.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, Niall’s eyes met mine . . . and I decided I might have been wrong. Something was off. There was a shadow in his expression now, haunting his eyes. Like something deep within him had been stirred up and left him on edge.

Nevertheless, he reached his hand out to me. “Come here, you.”

I melted into him and savored the feel of his arms as they wrapped around me protectively once again. He held me like I was going to vanish before his eyes.

“You came back for me,” he murmured into my hair as his hand slid around the back of my neck, tucking me in close.

“Always,” I said.

“And you’re all right?” he asked, pulling away and scanning me from head to toe with lingering worry.

“Perfectly fine.” My hands found his face and the beard that had grown since the last time I saw him. I slid my fingers along the hairs that covered his jaw, taking in his rough but still strikingly handsome appearance.

He lifted his eyes to Remic, and I could tell by the way he held the Dionach’s stare that he was mind-walking. I turned just in time to see Remic’s expression darken. Whatever Niall had told him, Remic didn’t like it one bit. His wings agitated behind him.

“How long have I been here?” Niall asked out loud.

“Four days,” Remic answered.

Niall nodded, processing. “Were there guards outside when you arrived?”

“No. There was no one.”

“They’ll be back soon, then. We need to get out of here.”

“We need you to contact Morah first,” I said. “She’s with Fallon—or at least, that was the plan. She’s supposed to direct us to their whereabouts. Roirdan’s with her.”

Niall gave us all a look of surprise. “Fallon? Where’s Aremis?”

“In Calledan,” Maeson replied. “We thought it was best if he stayed, in case this didn’t go as planned.”

Niall nodded again, slowly, putting everything together.

He was quiet for a long moment as he contacted Morah in his mind, and we waited in silence. Then, when his focus came back to the present, he blinked. “She has him, but he’s not fully conscious. They need you, Maeson.”

“Are you sure you’re all right to make the trek?” I asked him.

He was no longer showing any sign of having been physically tortured, aside from the puncture marks in his pants and the blood that was drying on his skin. But whatever he had just been through in his mind . . .