Page 112 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

J A N E

Afew days have slipped by, to which I haven’t left this room.

Do they plan to leave me here until it’s time to do whatever the fuck they’re going to do with me? I need access to that area below the castle. One way or another, I have to free the sirens fromthere. I still don’t know why Melona once told me that for the siren’s sunder, I could never visit Skull’s Row. Orhow that debt has been paid, but those obligations seem like they belong to another lifetime.

It’s bizarre to consider how they onceruledmy life.

It’s on the third day since seeing the sirens that I hear the unlocking of the bolts on the door and not just the small flap where food slides under—the ‘privilege’of seeing Marissa revoked. I freeze when a disheveled Anya is chucked into my room, bound at the wrists, her reeking stench filling the space. I don’t move. This feels so much like a trap that I don’t even trust my distrust.

Jesper reveals himself from behind her, a smirk hidden under the shadow of his face. “Thought you could use the company.”

Just as fast as she’s tossed in here, Jesper shuts the door again. Anya and I both stare at each other in claustrophobic silence. Her hair is no longer slicked back—it reaches her nose, unkempt and dirty. The swelling in her eye is gone and replaced by horrible shades of blue and purple, her bruise blooming like a flower of pain. Dried blood seems to be matted in her short hair and neck, her body covered in grime.

When nothing happens to either of us, I feel somewhat safe to quietly state, “This is obviously a trap, right?”

“He’s not very subtle.”

The corner of my mouth crooks up, missing evenher. “Should I heal you?” I ask, trying to sound as sincere as possible, taking a step near her. “Or isthatwhat they want?”

“Just take care of the wound on my ankle.” She hobbles to re-position herself, moving her ankle forward. “It’s festering.”

I examine the wound, which looks like a classic case of a rope, or even chains, digging too deeply into her skin, the surrounding flesh red and swollen. I fetch water from my pail and fill a cloth with it, indicating that she should sit on the bed—I don’t care if she gets it dirty. She could probably use the moral supportof sitting on somethingsoft, as I doubt wherever she’s at is comfortable. We don’t speak as I kneel and look at what must have been a minor wound, but constant irritation has turned it into nasty trauma. I blot at it with clean water and clasp my fingers around it, eyeing my tattoos as they glow, ignoring how she smells; my mother would scold me if I let the state of someone get in the way of my duty.

Duty. I’m a healer who doesn’t even know her goddess’s name. I don’t know the right words, either.Please, goddess of healing, heal my friend. The world is sick with Misery. I need help. I need to heal.

As I channel healing energy into her, I’m not sure if that made a difference or not.

“They have to be listening,” Anya mutters. I glance up at her, and she leans down slightly—the poor thing looks like she’s been in a fight with a molgrin. With cracked lips, she mouths, “Do. You. Have. A. Plan?”

My gaze drops back down to release my grip and take a peek at her ankle. I shrug. “Direction. Not a plan.”

Anya leans down in my ear, and I feel terrible for wanting to hold my breath. “Make it happenfaster.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, letting go of her ankle, not having realized just how much she was relying on me. “I can’t say more. Are you okay? What have they done to you? Where do they keep you?”

“I’ll endure. Don’t apologize to me.Fuckthese people.” She repositions so she’s right up on my ear, so close I can see the individual strands of hair on the side of her head. “I know Soren will come. I’ll be the first one they’ll kill when he does. Don’t think twice about me.”

“Don’t think that way,” I say before hearing what I’m saying.

Of courseshe’ll be the first one to go.

“Don’t be naïve,” she sighs in my ear. Anya looks at me, close to my face. “I won’t apologize for being difficult, Jane. It’s my jobto take care of Soren. And that’s what I’m doing now by ensuring you get back to him. He’ll be able to tell we’re in the castle, okay?”

“Just, become another person andflee. Kill whoever. Get out of here.”

She smiles, then coughs, and I go to get her some water to drink. I fill a cup and bring it to her like Soren did to me, but I take more care with the offering. When it dribbles down her chin and neck, Anya gulping like she’s been stranded at sea, she adds, “I’m not giving up, Jane, but I’m not stupid. I’m ready to die if I need to.”

My stomach knots as if a tourniquet binds it. “I’ll find something.” That’s all I can offer as a reassurance.It’s all I tell anyone else, which means at some point, it’s empty air.

How can I tell her that I found the sirens, just like Cypress wanted? Iknowsomeone is listening. If I mention that to her, then they’ll ensure I never get to go back down there again.

She motions for me to come close again, and she speaks in my ear, “Get the sirens out first.”

It’s the first time I lean closer to her, as if she read my mind. “What?”

“I can hear them. I’m not far from their cells. Tempest’s daughter is among them. Set Moriganna free, and then Tempest will come. Once she’s seen that Blackwell branded her daughter, Tempest will bring an entire armada.”

Holy shit. “Herdaughter?”