Page 27 of Fae Farewells

But that wasn’t what held my attention.

Muted screams pierced through the stone, the doorways bricked up haphazardly to hide those who lie inside. I sealed my lips together to keep from asking who or why or when…

They had made it this long; they could hold on for a few more days.

They had to.

Light grew as the first hall ended and spat us into the next. The right side appeared to be three cells and a dead end wall, but looks were deceiving. My sister and I strategically placed crates to block one corner. They’d been there for years, acting as a storage of sorts as they drew the eyes away from the hidden staircase out of this prison.

Those cells were full of fae and the few other creatures who still lived in the realm. Several bird-like cages dangled from the rafters, close enough to the floor to give the earth-loving brownies the illusion of being able to touch the ground. A fairy wailed her misery from a similar cage, unable to stretch her wings and take flight.

Thatcher nudged me to the left, which took us into an expansive fae-dug cavern tall enough to fit giants comfortably. Almost. Nothing about this room was meant for comfort, though.

Shackles rattled against the stone walls, pained groans following the clang of metal. Mangled fae hung in chain embraces, tangled and torn as blood dripped into puddles on the ground. The steady drizzle was worrisome; the pools of magical life-force that splashed under my shoes was even more so.

How long had these people been strung up, being drained as torture?

A lock clicked, the cell door swinging open as Thatcher’s grip on my restraints disappeared. He gently shoved me through the barred door, bowing his head before glancing around.

“Many things have changed,” Thatcher whispered, checking to make sure we were with like-minded ears. “Allegiances have grown. More now than ever, we long for a benevolent ruler. When you’re ready to leave, you need only ask, but for today, we shall keep up our appearances.”

Something he said reminded me of the letter Sloane got from Nate so many weeks ago. I couldn’t quite jog the memory, so I bowed back to him. “Thank you.”

Once Thatcher walked away, thin, pale arms wrapped around my waist. The familiar aroma of wildflowers and coconut invaded my senses, though they were sullied by frustration and despair.

“Freya,” I breathed, spinning to hug her properly. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know, but now I have a hunch.” She squeezed me tightly before backing away. “We felt you cross through the portal. Tilly said the influx of power was too much to be you or Sarge, but I knew. So, I tried to leave, to meet you at grandfather’s home.”

“And she stopped you?”

“The guards did. They said they were ordered to keep me here for safety until they could verify who had entered the realm.”

I sat on the bed, leaning my back against the wall. “I’m not surprised. Sarge has found two more of your mates. The three of them plus the seven of us—”

Freya’s brows knitted together. “Seven?”

“My mate and co-mates.”

“She has six?”

“Yes, but that’s not important right now.” I patted the spot beside me, silently asking her to sit. “Focus for a moment. We have shit to do while we’re down here.”

“Why aren’t you worried?”

“I can feel my mate’s emotions, and she’s a raging lunatic on a good day.”

She twirled her index finger, motioning for me to continue. “Yes, and?”

“Today is not a good day…”

“Vaughn,” Freya snapped. “Be serious.”

“I am. Sloane is complicated.” I chuckled humorlessly. “But she’s angry now, which isn’t going to be fun for Alania.”

“Alania?”

I dropped my head into my hands. “We were right, Frey. Our mother died shortly after Tilly was born. The woman we’ve been fighting against isn’t Vex. She’s our aunt.”