I just barely touch on what feels like a deeply wounded consciousness when the clanging of metal pulls me from my thoughts and internal efforts. I look up to see a small metal panel pull back on the door. Dark eyes peer in at me, and I can see surprise register in them for a split second before the panel is quickly closed and heavy footfall leads away from my cell.
I swing my feet, not liking the heavy feel of the metal that’s linked around my ankles, and study the walls of my cage. I don’t know what I expect to find—claw marks, rats, some kind of tally situation—but the walls are dark and bare, and the cell clean and cold. I’m not sure how long I wait, but the sound of marching fills my ears, and my adrenaline kicks in and hikes my anxiety up to a whole new unhelpful level.
The rhythmic sound of heavy footfall is ominous. I swear it sounds more like the boom of war drums signaling my impending death. I try to control my breathing and to keep from panicking, but I’m not doing so well. I curl up in the corner of the stone bed shelf and try to make myself as little as possible. I hate that I feel this way again, helpless, out of control, scared, but no matter what I do, I just keep finding myself here.
Sutton’s voice fills my mind, and I try to focus on the things he taught me. I tell myself to focus on what I can control, to be smart about this. I give myself a little pep talk to try and stem the anxiety, but it’s only half working. The door to my cell flies open, and I jump and whimper at the sudden booming sound.
I really need to stop being so fucking jumpy all of the time, it’s not helping my rep.
Large armored guards file into the small space, and suddenly I don’t want to feel as small as possible; I want to be as big as Zeph and rip them all apart.
“You have been called to appear before the Syta. Rise, and you will be escorted there in peace. Refuse, and...well, you will be taken there anyway,” a guard informs me.
I snort, unable to help it. The dude really needs to work on the climax of his delivery. I unfold myself on the bench bed and stand up. The guard gives me an approving nod and kneels to remove the shackles from my feet. He tuts when he sees the abrasions on my ankles. I don’t say anything. I’m pretty sure I did that to myself when I went for Ryn, but if he wants to feel bad for me, I’m perfectly fine with that. He can get in line right behind me, and we’ll drink wine and throw an epic pity party.
“Follow me,” he instructs, his tone softer, and then he moves out of the cell.
I’m instantly surrounded by big beefy guards and escorted down a hallway. The dungeon looks like it’s torch lit, but when I get close, I can see that what I thought was fire is just a strange moving light. Whatever it is, the flickering of the non-flames still causes the shadows to play tricks on my eyes.
It’s surprisingly quiet down here. There’s no tortured screams or begging from other prisoners for help. I don’t even spot another person. It’s like I have my own private wing of the dungeon. There’s no moaning or groaning like I’d expect. There’s just the sound of the guards’ heavy boots on the stone floor as we wind our way through the eerie quiet.
Eventually a staircase appears, and I’m led up several flights. I’m starting to seriously rethink my need for cardio when we stop climbing and instead branch off down a wide hallway. We stop at a gargantuan heavy-looking door, and the lead guard proceeds to do some kind of secret knock. The metal squeals in protest as it opens, and I’m ripped from the dimly lit dungeon and forced into the light.
I shrink back, blinded by the overwhelming and painful brightness. I try to stop and shield my eyes, but the guards push me to keep moving. I blink rapidly in an effort to adjust, but my eyes well up from the illuminated assault.
“Keep walking,” a guard demands, like his shoving me around isn’t enough and he feels the need to add useless narration.
I’m body checked again from the side when I stumble, and I bite back the nasty words I want to let loose. I want to snap at them to hold their fucking horses for a second until I’m no longer blind, but aside from the guy who took off my chains, I don’t get the impression that any of them have much of a compassionate side. I bite my tongue, but I can’t quite swallow down the growl that bubbles up my throat. The lead guard looks back at me, seemingly amused by the sound, which of course just makes me growl even more.
“Keep purring, little kitten, it’s music to our ears,” he jeers.
I glare at him but tell myself not to engage. No good will come from pissing off someone who I might be dealing with for who knows how long. Yeah, I’m being taken to the Syta, but what happens after that? The cat-loving asshole could be my warden for all I know at this point—or my future torturer. I swallow down the bile that creeps up the back of my throat at that thought. What happens if I can’t pull this off and they don’t believe me?
What Zeph and Ryn put me through in order to interrogate me blazes forward in my mind. I shiver. I hope it doesn’t get worse than that. I push those thoughts away and try to distract myself with my surroundings.
People move here and there, each of their strides filled with purpose as they make their way to some predetermined destination. No one pays me and my escorts much attention as I’m taken from a dungeon-bound hallway through a cavernous corridor. I’m surrounded by what looks like crystal and iron. The floor is the same cream stone that comprised the cliff castle, but the walls here are transparent. At first I think it’s glass, but I quickly realize it must be something else. The clear surface is smooth like glass, but there’s an unusual sparkle to it, and prisms dance in the corners of the massive translucent panes. Through the windowed walls, I can see crystalline high-rises all around us and a sliver of water between two large buildings.
It’s like I’m staring at some kind of bejeweled city, and I’m not sure what to make of any of it. Unusual shaped towers of varying heights glisten and sparkle in the sun. It’s so incredibly foreign and fantastical that I find myself feeling more lost than ever. Frustration surges through me that I was knocked out when I was brought here. How the fuck am I supposed to get my bearings or understand where I am now in relation to where I was? My head swings around like a pendulum as I try to take everything in. I spot a few gryphons flying through open crystal-like windows, but not nearly as many of them soaring about as there were in the Eyrie.
My guard stops suddenly.
I’m so busy paying attention to my surroundings that I almost run into the back of the large shifter. A boom sounds on the other side of the closed entrance, and the tall iron doors in front of us slowly split. They groan ominously as they’re opened, and fear and uncertainty surge through me. I take a deep breath and search for some of the brave I know I have tucked away somewhere inside me.
“Miss you, Pidge,” I lament.
I can’t help but send a silent plea to her for strength, even though I know it will go unanswered. I’m ushered inside of a room that makes me feel even more like I’ve landed in the middle of some kind of fairy tale city. The walls are the same iron bordered crystal, and they reach up several stories high to dome above me. The room is easily the size of a football field and a half, and I’m tempted to scream out echo and listen to my voice bounce back to me over and over again. The clear walls to my side have some kind of magical fountain, and water pours tranquilly down them to collect in narrow lily pad covered pools below. Lotuses in every color imaginable bloom on the surface of the thin pools, and I catch sight of what I think is a fairy flitting from flower to flower.