Jumping up, I grabbed hold of the links, and with my knees bent, I tested my weight on the chain. The dust that sprinkled down in my hair was a very hopeful sign, so I twisted the chains, spinning like a kid on a swing, pulling them taut and hearing them creak at the increase in tension. If I’d caught a finger in the links, it would have sheared right off. Now I rocked side to side, like a pendulum, until chunks of rock started to fall, and finally the bolts gave and I flew sideways, hitting the floor hard.
It wasn’t as noisy as I would have thought, and I was guessing that was because the ground was the same sedimentary rock as the ceiling. Getting to my feet, I checked for my phone, found I didn’t have it, which wasn’t a surprise, and then went to work on getting the shackles off. I eased the heavy links slowly through the raised opening on the left cuff, turning, twisting, feeding them through one at a time, until I finally got it loose enough so that I could wiggle my wrist free. The right was harder, because I wasn’t as good with my left hand, and the links were rusted, and I had to break off some ancient-looking mud to get them through the opening on the cuff.
Once I was free, I picked up the rusted chain, hoping that maybe with enough pressure, I could break it, if needed, to use as a weapon, and grabbed the torch and checked both egress points. The one on the right had less dust on the ground, but I could still see where it’d been disturbed recently. I walked down the tunnel a bit, and saw something on the ground that sparkled in the torchlight. Bending to pick it up, I found a zipper pull that had to have come off one of the boots I was wearing. Thank God I didn’t have all the high-end footwear that Varic did, or I would have never had a clue that I was going the right way.
Thinking of the man I loved gave me a pang in my heart, and I prayed that I would see him again as I began, as quietly as possible, down the tunnel.
As I suspected, I was in catacombs, and the farther I went, the more tombs I saw, passing an agape table, many carvings on the walls, some done in either red paint or blood, though I was guessing paint since the blood might not have held up over time. There were many beautiful arches and pillars carved right out of the rock, and as soon as I started walking uphill, I could see frescoes on the walls.
When I turned a corner, I heard a faint sound of weeping to the right, so I bolted forward, chain clutched to my chest, and when I made a left, I saw another light. Dropping the torch into an open tomb, knowing better than to try and put out beeswax-soaked mullein, I charged down the ancient corridor, hoping to find Nerilla.
There was a sunken room with another agape table at the center, as well as a ledge carved from the same stone, and on one side, up against the far wall, was Nerilla, sitting on a stone ledge with her hands tied. Anar paced in front of her, Dureau—which was a surprise—stood near him, and there were three other men in the room, none of whom I recognized.
I had no idea what to do. There was only one way in, they were all vampyrs, and I knew better than to think that just because someone was small that they were weak. Tiago was scary, but on the outside, all lithe and lean and delicate. I had no idea what Anar could do, or Dureau, so I gambled.
“Wait for me, Varic!” I yelled, shaking the chain, stomping my feet. “Hadrian, I can’t see anything, but—there’s a light! A light!”
Nerilla started screaming for Varic, and there was spectral movement and warm air that kicked up dust near me, first several feet in front of me and then farther away. I stayed still until I saw a flicker of light at the far end of the corridor.
Dropping the chain, I took the three steps down into the room, where Nerilla was still shrieking for Varic. She gasped when she saw me, and I crossed the room quickly, taking her into my arms before I even thought about what I was doing.
“Just you?” She was utterly dumfounded as she stared at my face before looking for others that were not coming. “Are you kidding?”
I forced a smile for her.
She shook her head. “I don’t know if you’re very brave or very stupid.”
“Probably a little of both,” I said as I worked loose the knots on her wrists.
“You have to stop following me into danger,” she ordered. “Our luck is going to run out soon, I just know it.”
“Don’t say that,” I groaned, unwrapping her abraded wrists, trying to step away from her, but she stepped into me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
Taking a relieved breath, I hugged her back, kissing her forehead and squeezing tight.
“I think they sprained my shoulder,” she whimpered.
“I’m so sorry they hurt you,” I said, putting my arm around her and leading her out of the room, up the three steps to the corridor. “And we’re gonna figure out what’s going on, but right now—they went up, is that how we’re going?”
“Yes,” she rasped, the tears in her voice breaking my heart.
Walking together, I kept my arm around her as she leaned into me.
“Tell me what happened?”
“You’re covered in blood,” she said woodenly. “Are you bleeding?”
“Probably a bit, but I’m all right,” I soothed her, kissing her temple. “Please talk to me.”
She took a shuddering breath. “They killed Jarah.”
I clutched her tight for a moment and then stepped free, taking her hand, thrilled to see that she was wearing flats, and began to walk faster. “Don’t think about it right now; let’s just run. And if you can run faster than me, then––”
“No,” she said emphatically. “We stay together.”
“But you could go and get help,” I told her.
“And alone I can get caught, and they can break my bones this time, or make me bleed.”
“Okay,” I agreed, and then we both concentrated on running.
We came around what Nerilla said was the last corner, almost too fast, but she yanked on my arm and we ended up plastered against the wall. There, between us and a heavy wrought iron gate that Nerilla said led to a steep staircase up to the chapel, stood Alrek and Marcellus and several of the king’s guards. I did not like our chances.
“What the hell is going on?” I whispered to her.
She shook her head and then gestured me close so she could whisper in my ear. “Anar said that I had to agree to marry Andreas or he would kill you.”
“Anar said that?”
She nodded.
“How does that even work?” I asked under my breath. “As soon as you got out, you would have told Varic the truth.”
She shrugged, clearly out of it, still in a daze over Jarah.
“Is there any other way out of here?”
“No.”
“You could make it,” I told her. “You’re faster than me. I can create a diversion, and you go find Varic.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, it’s smart. You can get around them all; I know you can.”
“But I shouldn’t have to get around Alrek and Marcellus,” she insisted, her eyes welling with tears. “They don’t even like each other.”
She wasn’t making a lot of sense, but I got the gist of what she meant, which was, they’re not even friends, so how could they possibly be working together?
“But Anar and Dureau had to have gone through here, which means they let them by,” I explained. “You get that, right?”