Page 137 of Of Shadows and Blood

My primal senses move before I do and, as if I was a puppet on strings, I attack. My teeth find purchase in the space between his neck and shoulder as I slice a coin deep across his ribs, taking a greedy drink of his blood. The guard screams and pulls from me but whatever adrenaline is coursing through me allows me to shove him into the wall, swallowing my last chance of a feed before I make the fatal blow. Dropping the coins, I shove my fist into the gouge I made in his ribs.

His screaming stops.

Who knew a heart was so slimy?

Both guards lay bloody on the gravel floor of the chamber. There could be more on the way with the noise number two made. Reaching down, I pull the extended baton from beneath the guard at my feet and observe my surroundings again.

The collar is still tight around my throat but I am lucky to not have the mouth cover any more. I earned its removal by not talking for three days, according to the Carver.

The single stair entrance into the chamber led to Gods know where. I came in here with a bag on my head. Above is the town square. I begin to lower the vice all of the way down and shakily climb atop the flat metal top. Seeing the length of the spikes that now rest atop the stone slab puts into perspective how painful the death would have been. My bare feet immediately burn and I jump down, blisters forming on the pads of my feet.

Cess metal. It has always hurt but they’ve altered it. Imbued it differently.

They’re smart, I’ll give them that. The gravel digs into my bare back and my gaze wanders over to the smaller guard whose throat emptied all over his uniform. Sighing, I unlace his boots and slip them on, wincing at the roughness of the soles. I take the coat from the other guard as it’s less blood-soaked.

Quickly, I climb atop the metal again and look up through the cavern that forms into a circular well. The ascent will be long, but it’s not very wide and I know I can scale this.

I have to scale this.

I will scale this.

Putting the baton in between my teeth, I slide my hands along the slick stone to find some grip. If I can just use upper body strength to hoist myself inside the tube, I will be able to use both upper and lower body to climb up. Finally finding a stone, I dig my nails in and pull my body up. A foot and a half up, my legs press into the other side of the well. Feeding charged me, so I stop to take a breath halfway up before attempting to reach Cedric again.

For the first time in weeks, the faint humming beat is there and I can visualize our delicate connection. We’re too far away.

“Come on,” I whisper to Cedric.

The bond tightens and he responds. Liv?

I gasp and almost slip, a few pebbles falling beneath me onto the metal below. Readjusting, I climb a few more inches where I can rest against a larger stone. I don’t have much time. A few coins fall past my shoulders and I pull on the bond again.

Cedric, are you there?

Liv, where are you?

The connection is shaky and distant.

I–I–I don’t know. Sawyer helped them capture me. Roland is here. Please find me.

The bond feels like fire now and I am nearly in tears. I knew he would be there.

Garreth is getting a cess to locate you. What are your surroundings? Are you hurt? Stay with me.

I’m in a well, I think. There’s a town above me. They toss coins down here to a goddess, Sylvine, and I think they have an accent.

The bond goes silent, but I know he’s there.

Don’t move. They’ve almost found you. I will never let you go again, Liv. I vow this to you.

My feet are slipping and my whole body is on fire. I need to move but this connection is my only chance… No, I can be my chance at survival. My fingers ache so I push up another stone, the light of the day refreshing upon my skin. Voices sound beneath me and I hold my breath.

They’re here, Cedric!

Abandoning the flighty connection because I cannot balance both tasks, I begin to climb, panic lacing as I hear more bodies fill the room.

“She couldn’t have left through that door! We had men out there with the carriage!” a guard bellows. Gravel crunches beneath more pairs of boots. I am a quarter of the way up.

“She’s in the well!” the Carver screams, his boots hitting the metal plate. I look down to see his feral face pull into a smile as he grabs the sides of the well.