Page 151 of Echoes of the Banshee

“Got the girl. And the goblin too,” one of them announces, his voice full of contempt.

“Warehouse for now,” a gravelly voice replies. “We’ll sort it out later.”

The air shifts as I’m shoved forward, the faint tang of rust and oil before I fall and my knees hit the ground hard. The door slams behind me with a hollow thud, followed by the sharp, definitive click of a lock. The cuff digs into my wrist. The burning sensation is dulled now. Too familiar to rattle me.

“Benson.” I force my voice to stay steady. “Where are you?”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his labored breaths. Then, finally, his voice breaks through the dark, “I’m here.”

I shift backwards toward the sound of his voice. When I feel his shirt in my hands, I tell him to turn around.

“I’ll get your hands free, and then you can help me.”

He hesitates, whimpering slightly from the pain, but I feel him shift. My fingers grab his and hold them for a moment before I fumble with the bindings around his wrists. Once I loosen the knots he pulls off my blindfold before working on the rest of my restraints.

When I’m free, I turn to him, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. Tears streak his cheeks, glinting faintly as I reach for his hands.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell him softly. “The pain won’t go away. But you’ll get used to it.”

“How do you know that?” he snaps, the pain talking.

“I’ve had these cuffs on before,” I say quietly. “The longer you wear them, the less… well, it’s always unbearable, but you get used to the pain.”

His breathing steadies slightly, though his voice remains stiff.

“How long did you wear them?”

“Not now,” I say tightly. “Do you know who took us?”

He shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “No, but they’re goblins. I can tell by the resonance.”

“Why would goblins want us?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” He sounds defeated.

Benson sinks to the floor, leaning back against the cold, damp wall. His free hand clutches at the magical cuff on his wrist, his fingers trembling from the pain. “I don’t know how you did this before,” he says through gritted teeth. “I feel like my veins are on fire.”

I crouch in front of him, resisting the urge to grab his hand. He’s hurting, but I can’t focus on that right now.

“It’ll dull. I promise. Just… hold on.”

He doesn’t reply. His head rests against the wall as he exhales shakily. The cuffs are draining both of us, but if I sit here and do nothing, I’ll lose myself to the pain.

I won’t let that happen. Never again.

Thea

Cuffs, Goblins, and Sarcasm, Oh My!

Ipush myself to my feet, stumbling slightly as the cuff drags on my energy. The room is dark, the faintest slivers of light filtering in from a crack under the door. I squint, scanning the small space. Bare walls, a low ceiling, and empty shelves. I start searching, my movements slow and deliberate. I try the door, pressing against the cold metal, but it’s locked tight. I run my fingers along the edges of the shelves, feeling for anything that could be useful.

“What are you doing?” Benson asks, his voice tight with pain.

“Looking for a way out,” I say without turning around.

He groans softly, his breathing uneven.

“We’re in the middle of… wherever this is. Even if we get out of the room, where are we supposed to go?”