Page 44 of A Curse of Breath and Blood (The Mind Breaker #1)

43 AELIA

I shivered as we walked to the entrance of the sewers, our uniforms providing little in the way of warmth.

The door groaned as Tharan pried it open. His expression darkened. The stench of piss and shit radiated from below, bringing bile to my throat.

“After you, my lady.” He motioned for me to enter.

Feces squished between my toes as my feet tramped through the damp tunnel. Nauseated, I pushed forward. This place would not take anything else from me.

Tharan vomited as soon as his feet hit the sludge.“It’s so much worse than I thought,” he said, gagging.

I handed him two eucalyptus leaves. “Stick these up your nose. They will help.”

Shaking, he took the leaves. Deep feces-filled muck sucked in our steps. Even rats did not dare to tread here.

Blinded by darkness, I ran my fingers along the wall, searching for indicators I carved long ago. “Ah ha! A pyramid means we’re halfway.”

“Great,” Tharan said unenthusiastically .

We tramped through the tunnels, trying our best to hold our breath. The light of a single torch was our only guide.

The sound of rushing water filled the chamber. A marvel of modern invention, the Highlands diverted a river to run underneath the city, providing fresh water for the citizens.

Submerging his legs into the icy water, Tharan groaned with relief.

“Don’t get too wet. We need to look like we have been working,” I said, scrubbing the shit off my feet and ankles as best I could.

“Oh, c’mon. Have some fun.” He splashed me playfully.

I slapped water back at him. “We can laugh later. This is serious.”

“Fine.” He pouted.

I cracked my neck, trying to adjust the invisible tension constantly pressing in on me at all times.

Only a few sleepy-eyed workers lingered in the servants’ passageway, finishing the last-minute tasks. Concentrating on their work, they paid us no mind.

Dirt stuck to our feet as we padded through the dimly lit hallways. During the day, this would be a booming thoroughfare of servants, bustling about vendors selling their goods and services—a city beneath a city. Now, only the sound of our footsteps filled the plaster-lined halls.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Tharan said, staring into a tailor’s window, where a little old man with thick spectacles worked on mending a dress for a highborn lady.“Sylphs don’t have slaves.”

That is what they were. Sure, they could hide behind the title of servant , but in reality, the servants—the backbone of the Highlands—were slaves, born and bred.

“Sylphs were slaves,” Tharan said as I dragged him away.

Tharan might have been a slave. He fought in the sylph and elven wars. I swallowed the lump of anxiety bulging in my throat. “Were you a…”

He held up his hand. “No. My father did not attend the celebration after Crom Cruach was defeated. Therefore, his kingdom remained untouched by the elves.” He bit his lip, kicking a rock lazily.

Placing a hand on his arm, I wanted to say something, but what could you say to someone whose people had been enslaved for millennia?

“I wanted to free them, you know. Before I left. I wanted to free all the servants, but there were so many, and only one of me.”Silver ringed my eyes.

Tharan rubbed my hand. “You were in a terrible place. You couldn’t have helped them.”

Lowering my eyes, I desperately searched for the right words but found none.

We walked silently along the deserted underground passage until we came to a winding stone staircase.

“This will take us to the royal suites,” I said, staring up at the steep steps leading high into the palace.

My thighs burned as we climbed higher and higher into the tower.

“We should murder Gideon and Erissa for making us climb these,” Tharan said, gasping for air.

“Just a little further.” I could see the golden handle leading into the royal wing. “I’m going to connect our minds, so we don’t have to speak to one another.”

Reaching out, I linked our minds. A pain tickled the back of my throat at the memory of the last time I invaded his psyche.

Testing.

‘ I’m here. ’

The door silently opened into a foyer housing a massive marble statue of Ammena holding her magical apple .

The hallway split into three directions—one to the north, one to the east, and one to the west. Ornate tapestry depicting the Highlands’ many victories hung on the walls, while beautiful red and gold carpets covered the black-and-white tiled floors.

Erissa’s room is just to the left of the statue.

A hawk and serpent locked in combat marked Erissa’s chambers from the rest. Extending my power, I probed for any presence inside. Erissa took lovers, but never in her chamber. My magic sensed nothing. Gripping the handle, I attempted to enter the room. My heart sank when it stubbornly jammed.

Locked.

‘ What do you mean, it’s locked? Let me try. ’ The golden swirled doorknob twitched again under Tharan’s hand but did not open.

‘ What are we going to do now? We don’t have a key. ’

Her laboratory. She keeps a desk in it.

‘ Where is it? ’

I’ll get it. You stay here.

‘ Alright, be careful. ’

I descended the colossal marble stairs, winding like a serpent circling its prey. Avoiding the guards was easy. I knew their routes, their shifts. Nothing changed in five years. Gideon thought he was untouchable.

Erissa’s laboratory connected to the dungeons, providing her with an endless supply of test subjects.

A vivid pink glow emanated from within the lab.

Peering into the room, my eyes fell upon a glass beaker brimming with luminescent liquid, boiling despite the lack of flame beneath it.

Erissa must have been working late. The door to her office stood ajar as if she left in a hurry.

In the heart of the room rested a substantial maple desk. An array of skulls varied in size from large to small upon its surface. Each skull cradled a candle, casting an eerie radiance illuminating their eyes.

I sifted through the desk, tossing papers everywhere.

Erissa researched everything from toadstools to curses. The key had to be here somewhere. I knocked on the desk, hoping to reveal a secret compartment, but found nothing. My pulse raced through my veins. She could come back at any moment.

Sifting through one last pile of folders, my eyes widened as they befell a diagram of my body annotated with clinical notes.

Subject losing weight: Appetite enhancer added to food.

Subject still resisting: Will try adding valerian root to tea.

Subject still fertile. Still bleeds monthly.

Still no sign of her mother’s gifts.

I fell to my knees, clutching the chart. Rage ran hot in my veins. How long had she known of my mother’s identity? Had Erissa been the one to broker the marriage arrangement?

Questions piled in my head like rubble after a battle as I flipped through the thick stack of parchment with my name and routine. My movements and eating patterns were noted, even when Gideon and I made love.

The door to the laboratory slammed shut, sending a shiver down my spine. Fuck.

Holding my ear to the door, I listened for the sound of Erissa’s soft, elven footsteps as she padded around the laboratory. I prayed she would not find me.

Tucking myself under her desk, I called my dagger to my hand and waited.

Erissa hummed to herself as she tended to her potions. Popping and fizzing sounded from the room beyond.

I held my breath, searching the room for any way out. No other doors or windows lined the walls. I’d have to wait her out.

Crouching low, I settled in once more, my fist wrapped tight around my dagger .

Tick, tock, tick, tock. The clock on the wall mocked. If I didn’t get back soon, Tharan would come looking for me.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. I matched my heartbeat to the sound of the clock.

Erissa continued her experiments. The smell of sulfur wafted through the cracks in the door.

Come on, I need to get out of here. My knee bounced on the wooden desk.

Finally, the door to the laboratory shut.

I wedged myself from under the desk, scanning the room beyond for signs of life.

Nothing.

I fled through the open door, through the lab where potions glowed, casting shadows onto the wood-paneled walls.

“Looking for this?”A voice like honeyed wine turned my blood cold. Dangling a key from her elegant fingers, Erissa let out a devious laugh. “You won’t find what you’re looking for in my chambers.”

She glided toward me on light feet—a wicked grin cutting her elegant face in two.

Firm hands grasped my shoulders, throwing me into a shelf of old books.

“Tsk, tsk, Now, now, boys, we want her intact.”

Her voice faded away as darkness crept in.