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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

M elora pushed uselessly at the door above them again and again with her already raw hands. She let out a little scream of frustration, exerting all her effort, then hit the door as if that would do anything to break the lock. If only she hadn’t dropped the ring!

“Take a break, Mel. You’ll just bloody your hands more at this rate.”

“We…have to… get… out… of here!” she said, punctuating each word by slamming her body against the door.

“Of course we do, but throwing yourself against a locked door won’t do much. You must stop before you use up all your energy.”

Reluctantly, Melora pulled away from the door, groaning as she flopped down on the filthy ground next to her sister. Her breathing came in short pants, hope of ever escaping seeping away with each one. She pushed back against the encroaching despair. “There must be something we can do—some way out of here. I can’t accept defeat. There is too much at stake.” Tears clouded her vision. She blinked them away. Now was not the time to cry. She needed to be strong for her sister. For Aurie.

Nerissa bobbed her head in agreement. “I hope so. But smacking against the door won’t give you any ideas.”

Melora grinned. Perhaps it was more of a grimace. “Why must you always speak such sense?”

“Because I’m sensible.” They laughed harder than the comment warranted, needing the emotional release.

Melora sucked in a breath, reining in her wild emotions. “All right. Let’s think this through. There aren’t any windows, so the door is the only exit—a door that’s obviously locked shut.” She groaned. Yeah. Going through their options hadn’t helped. It still felt hopeless.

“Too bad there isn’t some secret door we could sneak out of.”

Melora grunted in answer to her sister’s wish and climbed to her feet. “Unfortunately, this is just a normal cellar. But what do we have at our disposal?” She eyed her sister’s clothing. “You don’t have your sewing scissors in your apron, do you?”

“No, I would have used them on that rope if they were. Sorry.”

Melora sighed. Of course she would have.

The sisters turned their attention outward, scanning the dim room. The shelves were filled with jars and bags of food, and several bottles of wine.

“It’s just a lot of food.” Nerissa said dispiritedly. “Perhaps we should just accept our fate.”

“No! I refuse to accept any of this. Papa and Calix haven’t won. They won’t get either of us.” She stamped her foot for emphasis and walked around the edge of the room. There had to be something useful. “Maybe if we could find some kind of thin flat object to slide between the doors and break the latch…”

Nerissa’s eyes widened, and she bounced with renewed anticipation. “That’s brilliant!”

“But what? All these bottles are much too wide. Maybe a piece of wood.”

They began searching the room with renewed purpose, feeling against the shelves and walls for something flat.

“What about this?” Nerissa excitedly held up a rotting piece of wood.

They hurried to the door, Nerissa wielding the wood. Unfortunately, they immediately encountered a problem. “Ugh! It’s too wide. It won’t fit.”

“Are you sure?” Melora didn’t say anything, but she was afraid they wouldn’t find anything slimmer. She took the wood from her sister and tried fruitlessly to squeeze it into the crack, all to no avail.

With a groan of irritation, she flung the wood into the dirt and stamped around the room again.

Nerissa fiddled with her fingers. “We can’t give up now. We are so close. Let’s keep looking. Maybe we’ll find something that will fit.”

Melora was beginning to doubt her fortitude for this situation but kept her pessimism to herself. She released a breath along with her frustration and sent up another small and simple prayer, pleading for calm and help. Her heart warmed, and when she opened her eyes, she felt drawn to a specific corner of the room. She almost ignored the thought since she’d already looked there several times, but she looked again.

Just then, the glint of something behind the shelf caught her eye. Crouching, she examined it closer. The metal was so slim and narrow that she almost didn’t see it, and she wouldn’t have if the sliver of light streaming in around the door hadn’t caught the corroded edge at just the right moment. She yelled enthusiastically to Nerissa about her find, then leaned forward to pry out the stubborn stem of metal.

At first, she could barely move the thing because the edge was so wedged into the shelf. She grunted with determination. The long, slender metal pole wiggled and shifted. She rocked the thicker end back and forth several more times until what looked like a long metal stick finally slid out. “I got it!”

“Yay! Now let’s see if it works.”

Now that she'd drawn the rusty metal out from behind the shelf, she could see that the slender pole was an ice pick, probably left here years ago, if the battle she’d just waged to release the relic was anything to go by. She fed the flat end between the doors below where she imagined the latch to be. The metal end fit! Just barely, but she’d take it. This felt like a blessing from the Great Creator, and her hope rose once more. It had to work! Once it was positioned, she pulled up with all her might and felt it catch on the latch.

Nothing.

She grunted and called for Nerissa to help. She wasn’t strong enough alone. This time, they wrenched the pole upward together. A beautiful click met their ears. The leverage worked!

Finally, they were getting out of here! They cheered and hugged each other before hastening out of the room to find that ring! It was time to leave their childhood home behind for the last time—time to go help Aurie.

* * *

C hains bit into Aurie’s scales despite their hardened exterior, as he was yanked unceremoniously from the sky. His blast of magic did nothing to stop the determined men from their task.

If it were only his sorry life at stake, he wouldn’t have cared nearly as much. But they had Melora. Regardless of what it cost him, he wouldn’t allow anything to harm her. She was more precious to him than all the gold in Vilastoria.

The chain slithered around him, binding his wings to his sides and wrapping him even more securely as he came crashing to the ground. A feral snarl tore from his mouth. How could he be of any use to Melora if he was trussed up like a hog?

“There now. That wasn’t too hard.” Sir Calix gloated, that smirk twisting his ash-covered face. “That mage friend of yours has an impressive array of magical objects, Metis. Now, do you have that sword that’s strong enough to penetrate dragon scales? We can’t have him getting in the way of our gold.”

Aurie growled and struggled against the chain. Opening his mouth, he blasted them with another round of fire. Perhaps their protection spell had worn away, but no! They were impervious to it, though he was satisfied to note that they smelled slightly singed.

Where Melora? He boomed in their heads. Knowing how disconcerting his voice could be. Cannot kill me. I hunt you. Kill you! A growl slipped out through this stream of words. Unless find Melora!

Sir Calix pressed a hand to his head, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fist. “She’s mine!” he bit out through gritted teeth. “You’ll never have her. You’re nothing but a monster.”

Aurie thrashed. Metis yanked on the black chain to keep him still. “Don’t antagonize it, Calix.” Then he pulled out some kind of powder that he blew at Aurie.

Aurie blinked in a haze, his limbs suddenly feeling weak, his lids heavy. What was happening to him? How could he protect Melora if he was incapacitated? A blade glinted in the sunlight. Sir Calix grinned as he held the blade aloft, pointing it at him, ready to put an end to him.

Then he heard a sweet voice that froze everyone in their tracks. “Aurie! Sir Calix, stop! What are you doing to him?” her pain-filled words lanced through his heart. Melora! What was she doing here? This wasn’t safe! She needed to get out of here. He tried to warn her away, but he was unable to speak. A weak Mel was all he got out. His voice was thin and airy, sounding small and helpless. He struggled against the magical powder to stay alert. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but more importantly, he refused to allow anything to happen to her—not while his heart was still beating.

Through the fog filling his mind, he watched her running toward him—and was that her sister? No! Again, speech evaded him.

Sir Calix pivoted to face her, the wicked blade slashing through the air. It was too dangerous! She mustn’t be here! But he was helpless to do anything.