CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Although she was perfectly aware that the soldiers were under Bronkendol’s influence, Isa hoped the hard desert floor hurt their feet through their boots. Before they had left for Cobren, Isa had been planning on ordering the royal cobblers to craft boots with thicker soles for the foot soldiers, but now she was glad she’d never found the time.
At least they had allowed her to ride her horse. Her hands were bound, but it was still better than walking. Isa never would have made it through the night had they forced her to walk the whole way. Their captors seemed to be in a hurry, as they only ever stopped long enough for the horses to rest, then they were off again, riding all through the night. Isa’s own muscles ached whenever she thought of how hard they were pushing Ever. He was not allowed to ride his horse. She’d overheard some arguments between the men themselves about this. One, with hair the color of the desert they now traversed, never lost his worried look.
“If we push that one too hard, His Holiness will be angry with us.”
“We cannot risk his escape.” Another man with a large nose shook his head. “He might be an impostor, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t powerful. His Holiness said the forests would be ripe with wizards trying to take King Everard’s place.” And so, Ever walked.
Isa glanced back to Ever again to see how he was faring. They wouldn’t allow him to come any closer to her than thirty pace’s’ difference. They were a rather strange sight, with two soldiers riding alongside Isa and her horse in the front, and eight soldiers on their mounts as they surrounded Ever in the back. After seeing her change of countenance back in the forest, Ever had allowed them to tie and hold him with four different ropes, but the look on his face had told her just how difficult the submission had been.
Still, he walked proudly with his head held high. Isa knew him well enough, however, to recognize the exhaustion on his face. Even Ever had a breaking point. She just prayed he could last a little while longer before reaching it.
The desert seemed to stretch on forever. This was the valley, Ever had once told her, where the Tumenians’ late princess, Nevina, had killed his father, King Rodrigue. Their party had reached it a few hours after leaving the forest.
Isa couldn’t remember the distance feeling nearly so long when she’d ridden after Ever towards the Glass Castle. Dry, powerful winds bounced down the bare, crusty cliffs above and rushing down into the arid valley below, covering them with dust.
Just then, Isa spotted the main road that led back to Soudain. Hope swelled, as she realized they might meet someone she knew on the path, someone who might be able to find Garin, or her parents, at the very least. Rather than heading towards the main road, the soldiers turned while still in the valley. They led her horse to a sandy slope, where a path barely visible hugged the steep incline. It was their own mountain, but Isa couldn’t see the Fortress from the north side, or its wide, pristine fields and gardens. Why were they going up the mountain this way?
The slope eventually grew so steep that Isa could feel her horse straining beneath her when they were barely halfway up. Again, frustration and anger warred within her. She had never forced her animal to take such difficult terrain. She made sure to whisper encouragements to him, and eventually talked her guards into letting her walk beside the animal instead. That helped, but by the time they were nearing the top of the slope, foam began to appear on the animal’s silken coat.
When the path split, one side going right and one left, Isa stopped her horse and refused to go further. “I do not know what your holy man has told you,” she snapped at the guard nearest her, “but you are going to ruin my horse if you don’t allow him to rest.”
“We’re nearly there.” The guard with the sandy hair pointed and gave her a shove as they turned up the left path.
“What is this?”
The three of them turned as Ever shouted from below, where he and his entourage still hiked the trail.
“You’re taking us straight to the dungeons?”
Isa’s breath hitched. She had never been to the dungeons. Not even a part of the Fortress itself, a distant ancestor of Ever’s had thought it necessary to hide the prisoners where no loyal friends or hired swords would know how to find them. She’d asked about visiting once, but Ever had said there was no reason to make herself uncomfortable. Now, she was to be held there.
Isa’s soldiers urged her along the top of the cliff until they came to the most out of place door Isa had ever seen. It was hardly visible, carved into the side of the mountain itself, little roots and grasses sticking out of the wood where soil had gathered in its cracks. One of the soldiers gave four sharp raps upon the door. It opened from the inside with a creak, and Isa was assaulted by the stench of stale air and soured dirt.
She leaned into her horse and wrapped her arms around his neck. Never had she seen such blackness as that which was down that hole of a hall. Just higher than Ever was tall, and wide enough for three to pass through at the same time, the hole belched forth its wretched stench as though a wind carried it from the dungeon’s belly. I can’t go in there, she silently screamed to the Fortress. It’s worse than You ever were, even under the curse!
No saving grace appeared, as each of the soldiers firmly took her by an arm and began to pull her towards the hole.
“No!” she shrieked, falling dead weight as best she could while kicking her feet. “I can’t go in there! I just can’t! Please!” But no matter how hard she fought, she was no match for the men who held her. I need Your power! she told the Fortress. But no power came, and with a little effort, they were able to haul her inside.
A single weak torch hung on the wall. The third man, who had opened the door, removed the torch and walked before them as a guide. But the flame did little to illuminate the inky blackness. Isa continued to trip over her own feet as they led her further in.
After they’d been walking for some time, she could hear Ever struggling behind her, but when she turned to see if he was any more successful than she at her attempted escape, it was impossible to see through the dark.
Deeper and deeper they walked. The air began to feel different, as though it were pressing in on her from all sides. Panic sped her breathing, and it was all she could do not to break out into hysterics. They seemed to be moving upwards, though the incline was barely noticeable. She wasn’t allowed to stop until the narrow passage opened up, and Isa could feel that they were now standing in a room of some sort, though she couldn’t see how large it was or any of its other details. In the light of three more weak torches hung on the wall, she could make out the silhouette of a man, powerfully built. As her eyes adjusted, she realized the lines of his face were familiar.
“Acelet!” She nearly sobbed with relief. Isa lunged forward and threw her arms around her husband’s favorite general. He would set things straight.
But Acelet didn’t move a muscle. He merely waited as the two guards fought to get her under control again. Only then, after they’d pulled her back, did Isa see the faint blue-violet glow from the edges of his eyes. Bronkendol had gotten to him, too.
Without a word, he began walking. Isa’s guards followed, dragging her with them. Isa could feel resentment and hatred rolling off the general, and decided pleading with him would do no good. Whatever the enchanter had convinced him of, using her stolen power, she would not be able to turn his heart as she was pulled along behind him.
The soft planks of wood they’d walked upon since entering the cave gave way to metal. She could feel it echo with each step as they moved her into another area that was, again, too dark to see.
She wished so much for Ever’s group to catch them. Earlier, she’d heard him put up a fight loud enough to echo down the hall, there was complete silence now. Either they’d moved him farther away, down another hall, or they had found a way to silence him. That thought rattled Isa more than anything else she had seen that day.
They came to a stop. “You will take three steps forward.”
“No.” She was shocked at her audacity as the word left her lips. But whatever he had in store couldn’t be good.
“You will do it, or I will move you myself.”
Isa glared into the darkness, wishing he could see the anger in her eyes. In that moment, she felt the slight heat of the blue fire glance her right foot. She froze, hoping for it to flare to life. Nothing permanent stayed though. It was almost as if the Fortress was telling her to trust. To go. With a sigh, she made three slow steps forward.
On the last step, her boot touched something soft, like cloth. As soon as both feet were down, the floor dropped from beneath her, and Isa shrieked as she fell into what felt like a giant sack. The cloth leapt up around her, catching her in midair. Slowly, the sack was lowered deeper and deeper. When Isa touched a hard surface, the sack twisted, and she was dumped out onto the ground. Immediately, the sack was taken right back up. Still on the ground, Isa stared up. In the distance, she could barely make out the light of a torch as a slitted metal cover was pushed over the opening of the hole she’d just been lowered into.
As she stood, trying to study the light above, Isa stumbled. When she tried to catch herself, she quickly realized that the floor wasn’t even, and she tripped forward into a hard metal wall. When she finally caught her balance, Isa lowered herself to the ground again and began feeling her way up.
As if being buried deep in the mountain wasn’t bad enough, the cell itself had no level surface. Even the ground was curved upwards, like a giant’s bowl with sides that curved up all around her, narrowing as they moved to the top. The metal reflected dimly at first in the light of the torch, but that didn’t last long. Distant voices murmured unintelligible words, but soon they disappeared, echoing footsteps carrying them away. And as they went, so went the light.