Page 14 of The Chains You Defy

The cranking noise returned, burning itself into my consciousness.

Again. And again. Two more times.

With each instance, the leather encircling my throat tightened, and a pathetic whimper escaped my lips. Breathing became a physical struggle instead of a result due to a figment of my fears. “What is it with the Feroy men…and their fascination with choking women?” I coughed out.

“You have the power to end this. Just give me the truth.”

“No.”

Perran’s face contorted into a snarl. “Stop being so damn stubborn.” He grabbed the mechanism himself and cranked. His fury permeated the air, pressing down on me like a heavy blanket, and the leather around my neck cut deep into my flesh as the King of Merchants immersed himself in his anger and repeated the motion.

I lost count of how often, and truth be told, I wasn’t in any state of mind to try as I fought hard against the horror of my memories and, worse, the fact I couldn’t breathe anymore.

My head turned light from a lack of oxygen.

Panic clawed inside of me.

A scream battled to dislodge from my throat, but no sound came. Black spots danced in my vision, multiplied and spread wide, and as the last crank I perceived tore through the room like thunder, I sank into dark oblivion.

To my astonishment, I woke up again after an unknown amount of time, lying on my cot.

How was I still alive?

Taking a big, raspy gulp of stale air as my muscles trembled, tears of relief and strain ran down my cheeks.

I couldn’t tell how long I’d been unconscious, but when I sat up and my eyes got somehow used to the minimal light in my cell, I spotted something strange.

When I’d left my cage, there had been fewer chalk lines. The last mark I’d drawn on the coarse wall had been the eighth, but now, I counted ten white stripes. Was I suffering from memory loss, or had someone wanted to mess with me?

Unable to stay upright, I lay back as my constant companion, dizziness, intensified.

My throat was burning and parched; my neck, as well as my whole body, was still one giant pain, and my stomach was past growling—the organ acted as if it tried to digest itself.

As I recalled the last few hours I could remember, I had to admit that having spent the past two daysunconscious didn’t seem so unlikely, especially if I considered believing Perran’s sentiment that he was planning to starve me.

Although dehydration was a bigger problem than a lack of food. Had I ever read something about how long a person could survive without water? The only thing I was certain of was that the period was short.

And the flicker of hope I’d nourished two days ago? That had been snuffed out, and as I was lying motionless on my cot, staring at the ceiling, I realized I’d given up. There was no way I’d make it out of here alive.

Tears left wet trails on my cheeks.

I’d evaded certain death once, and since godlings never took being cheated well, Noelk was calling me to him in this slow and torturous way, merciless and unyielding.

Lost in delirious thoughts, I barely looked up as light streaming into my cell indicated that the door had opened. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have reacted, as a coughing fit shook my whole body all of a sudden.

A faint click and fading brightness suggested I was locked in again.

The coughs came as fast as they went, and only then did I turn my head, just to spot the redheaded guard, Nancy. His expression was too friendly to be true, and—was that pity glittering in his eyes?

“You need to drink,” he whispered as he lifted a cup to my lips, which was the cleanest item I’d encountered in over a week.

Confusion must have been written all over my face because the guard spoke on. “There’s a lot I disagree with concerning how you’re treated. Now, drink before someone catches me here.”

“You’re…helping me?”

“If I’d discovered a way, you would have disappeared from this cruel place days ago. But yes. I want to help.”

Was this a trap? “Why?”