Page 47

A Deal with a Demon

Carrying a tray in hand, Adelina followed the instructions given to her by Natasha and headed down the steps springing off the kitchens. Torches affixed to walls cast a warm glow across the stone, contrasting with the icy prickling of her skin as she descended into the prisons.

Squashing the building nerves flipping her stomach, she kept a tight grip on the tray, steadying the rattling bowls and plates. A crust of bread threatened to roll off the edge. She slowed her pace.

Remember, you work here. You know these corridors, these staircases. These guards. Act like it’s the thousandth time you’ve done this, and you’ll be fine.

Releasing the inside of her cheek from between her teeth, she approached the first guard .

“Here’s your lunch.” She plastered a bright smile on her face.

The guard clasped a bowl with his bulky hand and took a spoon in the other. “Thank the gods. I’m starved.”

As he slouched onto his chair, she made her way towards the next guard, who was stationed further along the corridor.

“Are you hungry?” she asked pleasantly.

“Always,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “Wait, I’ve not seen you down here before. Who are you?”

Tilting her chin a little higher, she fought to keep her tone level. “I’m the new maid under Natasha’s training and guidance. What better way to introduce me to the guards than to bring them food?”

“What’s your name?” His watchful gaze travelled from head to toe.

Her body trembled, and her knees locked.

“Ana,” she lied.

“Very well, Ana. Are you to feed the prisoners, too?” He took his bowl and cutlery from the tray.

“Yes. We burnt some bread this morning,” she said, recycling Natasha’s line.

“The filthy vermin don’t deserve it.” He wrinkled his nose. “Although they are quite docile—no fight left in them.” He shrugged. “Even so, keep your wits about you and call me if you need anything.”

“Of course.” She bowed her head.

Holding her breath, she made her way along the narrow passage between cells—iron bars shiny in places where hands had gripped them, and sparse furniture fastened to the stone floor.

A continuous drip of water echoed, and she wrinkled her nose at the smell of mildew.

Under the dim orange glow of torchlight, she could make out the thin mattresses, pillows, and old, tattered sheets in the cells she passed.

An inmate whispered to his neighbour through the bars—theirs faces covered in dirt, and their clothes threadbare.

She didn’t recognise them. One man turned to face her and cocked an eyebrow.

Heart thrumming, she hurried along, clutching the tray for dear life as her nerves mounted, and her stomach knotted.

Swallowing several times, she fought to rid the dryness from her mouth. A cough ahead froze her in her tracks.

“When can I go home?” A timid, quiet voice. One Adelina knew all too well. Tihana.

Adelina’s chest tightened, and her limbs tingled. Closing her eyes, she thanked all the gods for the sound of her sister’s voice.

“I’ll find a way to get you home soon—I promise,” Damir said hoarsely.

Heart soaring, Adelina fought the urge to bolt forwards, blast the door down, and throw her arms around her husband and sister.

Tilting her head to the ceiling, she whispered a prayer of thanks, then edged towards the cell.

There they both were. Alive. Together. She didn’t bother wondering why Pyotr hadn’t killed Damir as Filip had demanded.

“Food for the inmates,” Adelina said as levelly as possible. She cast a quick side glance over her shoulder to make sure the guards weren’t watching.

“Adelina?” Tihana whispered.

“Shh, don’t call me by my real name, sis. It’s Ana. Come to the bars—I have food.” She lowered the tray, then slid it under the bottom metal rung .

In a swift movement, little Tihana held the bars in a tight grip. “I’m starving.”

“Here. Eat up.” Adelina slipped her arm under the bar and nudged the tray closer to her sister. “Damir? Are you okay? Can you come here?”

“He’s not doing too well.” Tihana’s lip quivered.

Adelina placed her hand over her sister’s. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to look after both of you.”

“What did you do to your hair?” Tihana tilted her head to the side.

“It was the only way I could get into the palace without bringing attention to myself. It’ll grow back.” Adelina squeezed Tihana’s knuckles. “Go on—eat.”

Nodding once, Tihana dropped to her buttocks and scoffed the bread down in less than a few minutes.

Beads of liquid rolled down her chin, but she didn’t seem to care.

Adelina’s heart ached for her—how long had her sister gone without food, water?

All she wanted to do was wrap her in a blanket and hold her close.

“Done.” Tihana wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks…Ana.”

Adelina gave a half smile—there wasn’t anything to smile at, but she hoped it soothed her sister.

“Damir?” Adelina tried again. He hung back in the shadows, and she couldn’t tell from the dim lighting what sort of condition he was in.

“My…love,” he croaked.

“He’s exhausted.” Tihana looked at Adelina with round, wet eyes. “They’ve been starving us, and we are given little water.”

“Can you help him come to the bars?” Despite the gut-wrenching sensation in her stomach, Adelina wrestled with her emotions, fighting the shakiness in her voice. She couldn’t show her sister how she felt—they both relied on her to get them the hell out of there.

“I’ll try.” Tihana scrambled to her feet, exposing her dirtied knees and torn dress.

Disappearing into the back of the cell, she grumbled and shuffled. Adelina strained her eyes—two shadows lumbered across the floor.

Damir, one hand on the water-slick wall, and one arm around Tihana, hobbled to the bars. His eyes were half closed, and dirt covered every inch of his exposed skin and clothing, and clumped hair hung over his forehead.

Gripping onto the bars, he slid into a seated position and stuck his hand out to Adelina.

She clasped it between hers. Ignoring the filth on his hand, she kissed it, and tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

She couldn’t break down—she’d lock her emotions in a box and stuff them into a far corner of her mind until she’d gotten them to safety.

“I’ve brought you some bread. I’m sorry it’s not more, but I couldn’t raise suspicions.” She leaned closer, resting her forehead on the bars. “Please try to eat.”

“I’ll try.” He smiled weakly—even such a small movement exerted him. Slouching against the wall, he resembled an aged ragdoll. Tihana handed him a crust of bread, which he ate in slow bites.

“I had a vision of you both—I don’t have time to explain now—but I suspected you’d be here, and I’m going to find a way out of here. Sit tight. I’ll bring you more food and water.” She fixed her gaze on him and injected as much confidence as she could into her words.

“What’s the plan?” His eyes fluttered closed, and his words were no louder than a whisper, but the sound of his voice sent a flood of warmth through her whole body, burning away her nerves. Reminding her of who she was. She was a wife, a sister, and a wielder. And she’d make Filip pay.

“Yelena was my teacher here—I’ll find her. She’ll help us,” she said.

“Is everything all right down there?” A guard said, and his footsteps neared.

Adelina hopped to her feet, letting go of the bars.

“I’m fine!” she called. “Be right there.”

“I love you,” Damir whispered. “So very much. But if it comes down to a choice between me and your sister, get Tihana out of here.”

Tihana cried and buried her head in his shoulder. “No!”

“Don’t say such a thing, Damir. We’re all getting out of here. I’ll be back. I love you too. Both of you.” Adelina carried the empty tray and paced towards the staircase where the guards were stationed.

“Did the prisoners give you a fright?” One of the guards frowned. “Your eyes are puffy, and your cheeks are as red as tomatoes.”

“Not to worry.” She lifted her chin and gave what she hoped was a measured smile. “I must be returning to my other duties. Good day.”

Before the guards could question her further, she hurried up the steps and squinted from the brightness of sunlight streaming through the windows.

With her back pressed against the wall, her heart hammered, threatening to unleash a tidal wave of guilt, fear, and sheer panic through her body.

Clasping a trembling hand over her mouth, she sobbed, and the floodgates burst open.

The box she’d fought to stuff her emotions into exploded inside her chest.

She stuffed her hand into her pocket and clasped her father’s locket—her talisman she could no longer wear if she wished to heed the sun god’s advice. Withdrawing it, she stared at the gold chain.

Bringing it to her lips, she kissed the locket, then wiped her tears. She pushed off the wall, straightened her shoulders, and headed to the kitchens.

∞∞∞

Setting the tray on the counter, Adelina grabbed a pitcher of water, some rolls, cheese, and slices of cured meats.

Turning on her heel, she started towards the gardens.

If anyone questioned her, she’d simply tell them she’d gone to serve food to the trainer.

She needed to secure an ally if she was to succeed in saving her sister and husband, and her most likely one was Yelena.

Inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth, Adelina beelined for the training room at the back of the gardens, positioned in front of the aspens behind the property grounds.

The door was open, letting daylight flood and the mild, spring breeze in. Yelena stood hunched over her desk at the front of the room, her elbows propped on the surface, nose buried in a knock.

“I’ve brought you lunch...ma’am.” Adelina added the pleasantry for good measure .

“I didn’t request food.” Yelena raised her head. “Send it back—” Her eyes widened.

Adelina tilted her lips into a slight smile.