Promising Light (18 page)

What did they want with her? Why
would they do this to her?

She yelled for her release for a
little while longer, but it was clear no one was coming. She was
alone with the impostor in the corner.

She curled into a ball in the
corner, next to the bars. She wore a brown dress, not as raggedy as
the wild child’s, but still not very elegant. It was already
covered in dirt from the cell and from her struggles with the
Protectors. She played with the fraying hem for something to do
with her fingers. If she were back with Matt, they’d probably be
falling asleep now. There was no chance at sleep now; her heart was
racing, and she couldn’t ignore the person in the
corner.

Thoughts and memories flew through
her mind about the day Evan died. Maybe she didn’t stay around long
enough. Maybe he hadn’t been dead. He’d stopped moving, though.
Maybe she should have stayed longer. The battle was so chaotic, and
Niculai was going to kill her. She had no choice. Evan had been
dead. She’d even visited his grave. But she hadn’t seen his body,
not after she fled.

As though sensing her thoughts
about him, he stirred. Sierra tensed, getting to her feet, as
though that might protect her. He was chained to the wall. He
couldn’t hurt her.

He brought his head up from his
shoulder, his eyes blinking slowly. He looked up, confusion on his
face, and he stared at Sierra.

“Who are you?” she
asked.

He didn’t respond as his eyes
travelled over her.

“Who are you?” she repeated,
raising her voice. “Why are you doing this to me? I don’t know
anything! I haven’t talked to them for two years!”

“Two years,” he repeated, his
voice hoarse. “Has it really been that long?”

Sierra turned away, gritting her
teeth. She leaned on the cell bars. “What do you want?”

“You don’t smell like an Avialie,”
he said slowly. “But is that because a Cosa covered it
up?”

“I’m not an Avialie,” she spat.
“But if you’re Evan, then why don’t you change?”

He raised one of his manacled
wrists. “Mahri magic. Sucks the power right out of me.” He shook
his head. “I knew it was just a matter of time before they tried
this. You’re disgusting betraying your family like
this.”

She scoffed. “I’m not a shape
changer. I was kidnapped and dragged here.”

His eyes glanced up at her for a
moment before averting away again. “Did you drug me? Why didn’t I
hear you come in?”

“I don’t know what they did to
you.” There was one way to know it was truly him. She swallowed.
“What did Jeshro tell us before our wedding?”

He tilted his head, pursing his
lips. He said nothing for a few moments.

It was an ancient Cosa magic Sierra
didn’t understand, but Jeshro had explained it to them the day of
their wedding. Only in each other’s presence could they speak the
answer to the question. It was a paired magic that thrived on the
relationship between two people to hide information. She wouldn’t
believe it was truly Evan until he spoke the words.

“Let’s both say it together…” Her
heart pounded in her ears. “1… 2… 3.”

“The tigers know where the ancient
texts are,” they said in unison.

Sierra gasped,
putting her hands over her mouth. His eyes—
Evan’s
eyes—widened, and he stared
at her. She stepped forward and dropped on her knees next to him.
She touched his leg; his knee felt so bony and small. “Evan?” she
whispered. She touched his face, and he gave her a shaky
smile.

“Sierra.” His voice was tired, and
the same tiredness was etched on his face.

She broke down and wept.

* * *

Sierra could do nothing with the
chains. She was sure the keys were with the guards who’d left her
down here. The manacle was only connected to his right ankle and
wrist, so his left hand touched her face, as though checking to see
if she were real.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where
have you been for two years?”

“Here and there.” His voice was
hoarse as though from not much use. “I’ve only been here for a
little weeks. A couple weeks… or maybe a couple months.” His brow
furrowed, and he stared at the ground.

Sierra waited for him to go on, but
when he didn’t, she prompted him, “Where were you before
here?”

“Oh… other basements, cells,
stables…” He looked at her for a split second and began to shake
his head. “No, you shouldn’t be here. How did they find
you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been hiding
ever since the battle, but…” She suddenly remembered her
conversation with the prince. Her face flushed with anger. “I saw
Prince William the other day. That little—”

“But now they’re going to use you
against me!” Evan cut her off. He thrashed against his chains. “You
have to get out of here. They want the ancient texts, and now that
you’re here, we can say it together. They must have found out about
the paired magic. They brought a Zinna in here to look inside my
head and they must have seen it and now they know and—”

“Evan, don’t worry,” she said,
touching his arm. “We’ll get out of here.”

Evan let out a hollow laugh,
jerking his arm from her. “Oh? I’ve been trying to escape for two
years!”

She said nothing for a moment,
rubbing her forehead as she examined the cell. He began muttering
under his breath, rocking back and forth. She swallowed and tried
not to stare at him or let her fear creep onto her face.

“Why do they want the ancient
texts?” She hardly knew anything about the Avialie’s ancient texts
except that they’d been lost for years.

“I don’t know. To keep us from
breaking the curse. To kill us once and for all. They can’t find
them, Sierra. They can’t!” He kept rocking back and forth, his eyes
on his lap.

She touched his knee, and he didn’t
jerk away from her this time. “Aren’t the ancient texts just
legends and stories about the Avialies?”

“No, they have more… more, like
spells and secrets about our family and ways to break the curse.
They can’t find them.”

“But Evan, they’ve been lost for
centuries and the curse only happened a decade ago—”

“I know what they can do!” he
shouted, finally looking at her. “I know they’re going to save us.
I saw it.”

She swallowed again, but her mouth
was dry. “All right. It’ll be fine, Evan.”

His body sagged, and he leaned
against her. She wrapped her arms around him, and his free arm
wrapped around her torso. He smelled like body odors and dirt and
filth. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I wish you weren’t here,” he
mumbled into her shoulder.

She choked down a sob. “I’m going
to get us both out of here.”

They fell into an uneasy sleep. In
her dreams, Evan kept changing into a Protector or some other
unfamiliar figure. He would start chasing her and she’d jerk awake.
One of the times she woke, she turned to see Evan’s gaze fixed on
her.

Another time, she dreamt of Dar and
the blonde noble she saw with the prince. They were embracing, then
fighting, then dancing. Horrified screams broke Sierra out of the
dream and she awoke quickly, her heart pounding. Evan was holding
his head, yelling out in terror.

She leaned toward him, stroking his
face. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

He grabbed her, his arm going
around her so tightly it was almost painful. “I’ll kill them if
they do anything to you.” He started shaking, and when Sierra tried
to raise his face to look at her, he pushed her away and turned his
back toward her. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.”

She lay back down, touching his
shoulder softly. She bit down hard on her lip until she tasted
blood. What had they done to him for two years? He finally quieted,
falling asleep again.

Morning came, or at least Sierra
assumed it did. There were no windows down here, only her internal
clock to rely on. A few moments after she woke up, she heard the
door at the top of the steps open. She leapt to her feet and went
to the bars.

Two men came down the steps. Sierra
pushed closer to the bars, trying to see their faces. One was older
and taller. As they got closer, she recognized his face with a
chill. Niculai, who’d stabbed Evan with his sword. She’d fought him
after she thought Evan was dead, and she’d only narrowly escaped
him killing her, too. Except he didn’t kill Evan. He was alive,
chained to the wall, tortured for two years.

She gritted her teeth as they
approached the cell.

“Have a nice little reunion?”
Niculai asked. “I bet neither of you were expecting
that.”

“I knew you’d find her
eventually,” Evan said, glaring at Niculai.

“It was hard,” Niculai said. “You
covered your tracks well. Cosa magic, I assume?”

Sierra didn’t respond. He was
right, and she didn’t need to confirm it.

“Well, speaking to the prince was
your downfall,” Niculai said. “He realized we needed you and turned
you in.”

Sierra clenched her hands into
fists around the bars, wishing she could break them away and get
her and Evan out of there.

“Cosa magic nearly made the last
two years useless, but we finally have you.” Niculai’s hands darted
through the bars and grabbed her wrist. She struggled against him,
but he twisted it around, and she stopped squirming.

“Let her go,” Evan said, raising
his voice.

“You’re already getting angry?”
Niculai’s eyes shone. “We haven’t even started.”

Sierra saw the dagger’s gleam as it
hung from Niculai’s waist belt. She tried to judge his reflexes,
wondering if she could get to it quick enough. The last fight had
nearly killed her, and she was definitely out of practice. What
choice did she have, though? Wait until Niculai had an even greater
advantage?

Her hand flew toward the hilt;
she’d just closed her fingers around it when the other Protector
hit her in the face with the heel of his hand, and she yelled out
in pain. Niculai let go of her wrist, and she stumbled back, her
hands flying to her bleeding lip.

The two men flung the cell door
open and burst in. They each grabbed one of her arms. She tried to
fight, but the younger one brought her arm up behind her in a
painful angle, ready to break her wrist.

“Let her go!” Evan yelled again,
fighting against his chains.

“You know what we want, Evan,”
Niculai said. He drew a dagger from the inside of his cloak and
stretched Sierra’s arm out. When she tried to fight, the younger
Protector twisted her wrist and pain shot up her arm.

Niculai pointed the tip of the
dagger in the crook of Sierra’s arm. “Tell me where the ancient
texts are.”

Sierra looked at Evan with
imploring eyes. He was trying to pull the chains off the wall,
glancing between Sierra and the Protectors frantically. “Let her
go! Let her go, or I’ll kill you!” Evan screamed.

Niculai pushed the dagger down.
Sierra gasped as he drew blood. The dark red liquid dripped down
her arm.

“Let me ask again,” Niculai said.
“Tell me where the ancient texts are.” He drew the dagger farther
down her arm.

She let out a long cry, squeezing
her eyes shut. Pain coursed through her, her head rushing with
dizziness.

Evan’s screams became
unintelligible, just nonsense and spitting words.

Niculai moved his dagger to
Sierra’s throat, still holding her arm. Her eyes flew open, and she
looked at Evan, who was clawing at his manacle. Warm blood poured
down her arm, and she could feel her heartbeat in the crook of her
elbow. She fought back nausea. Niculai’s dagger pierced her throat,
drawing blood.

“Just tell him!” she
yelled.

Evan stared at
her. “
What
?”

“They’re just storybooks,
Evan!”

Niculai’s knife stilled, a smirk on
his face. He put a small amount of distance between his knife and
Sierra’s throat.

“No!” Evan said. “I’ll never tell,
I’ll never betray my family!”

Sierra gritted her teeth, glancing
down at the cut as it continued to bleed. “Your family? They’re the
reason Seth and everyone else is dead!”

Evan’s confusion turned to anger,
and he glared at her. “You’re not Sierra.”

“What? Yes, I am!” Sierra yelled.
“I told you what Jeshro said, and we’d never be able
to—”

“No, they found a way to break
through the Cosa magic.” He shook his head back and forth like a
dog shaking off water. “Sierra would never ask me to betray the
Avialies!”

“They lied to us! They left you to
Niculai for two years and they—”

“Shut up!” Evan shouted, his face
growing red. “Who are you really? How could you betray us like
this?” He turned his glare to Niculai, who seemed to be trying to
hide his dismay at this turn of events. “How did you break through
the paired magic? Where’s the real Sierra?”