Page 3 of To Sway a Prince (Tempting Thieves)

3

THE CELL

I kept my chin up. Yeah, I'd probably pushed him a little too far, and I wasn't in the best position for an outright fight.

"If you name a price for a ransom, I will pay it though." My throat tightened. Not that I had any resources available beyond my wits. I'd have to negotiate for time next. All I owned was on my back or in the pack I'd hidden beneath the old willow at the deep bend before the forest. Everything I owned could be sold for half a copper ingot. But I was clever. I'd always found a way. And if I had Zephyrus back, it would be manageable.

Ramiel studied me, his gaze moving over my face with unsettling intensity. Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of something—warmth, perhaps? But the silence deepened.

My skin prickled beneath his scrutiny. The dragons had gone still as well. Even Zephyrus stopped his huffing and chortling, his heavy-lidded eyes now open wide and studying both Ramiel and me.

I swallowed hard. "Please."

The faintest hint of a smile curled at his lips. He canted his head as he drew closer. "So that's it? You will not give Zephyrus up?"

"Never." Surges of emotion rose at the mere thought, but I choked them back. "I will never abandon him. He is family."

A slight smile curved his lips more. The edges of his eyes wrinkled as well. "Such conviction."

That didn't sound like he was about to agree with me though. My mind raced. Perhaps there was a way through this—a bargain, a trade. Most men of power wanted something. "You have all these other dragons who look as if they are all quite healthy and whole. Let me take Zephyrus, and we will find another to take his place. We'll go to the south. To Bone or the Ash Lands. Even the Umbral Kingdom has dragons that might be trained for these duties. Just name your price, and?—"

"Enough." He cut me off with a sharp gesture. He pressed two fingers together as he did, silver-purple light blooming from his fingertips. Runes blossomed around us.

Knots take me! I snapped my hands up, weaving a shield with my fingers and blade. Golden threads of knotwork magic sprang up, forming an intricate lattice that pulsed with protective energy. The barrier materialized just as Ramiel's silver-purple magic shot toward me.

"I'll be back, Zephyrus!" I gathered my focus to pulseport away and envisioned that point beneath the willow. The familiar sensation of magic coiled in my stomach, ready to whisk me away.

Nothing happened.

Zephyrus snarled, his head snapping up in the first true show of alarm since this started.

Cold dread spiked through me. No burst of heat or tightness of energy cut across my consciousness. The ground remained painfully firm beneath my feet. No! Bands of purple runic energy bound my feet to the floor. I hated undoing runic knot magic. They never had one central thread. And somehow these had slipped beneath my protection shield. Damn him, he was good.

"You thought it would be that easy to leave?" Ramiel scoffed, his hand still lifted, his wrist straight but his manner so casual he was clearly not using all of his strength. "I warned you not to underestimate me." He dropped it then against the hilt of his blade, his wrist now limp though the power in the magic remained strong.

My breath hissed through my teeth. "How—" It didn't matter. I shook my head. No one had ever blocked my pulseporting and knotwork shield so effortlessly before. "Let me go!" Rage boiled through me. I thrashed against the bonds at my feet, my knotwork shield still flickering between us. Whatever he had done, I couldn't feel the heat within. It was as if he was blocking the entirety of my magic as well.

Zephyrus roared, throwing himself against the bars of his cell. The metal groaned but held firm. His massive claws reached through the gaps and gouged at the stone.

Ramiel was just beyond his reach, his expression impassive. "I warned you, and now you have upset Zephyrus. That is bad for all of them."

"Let us both go and it all gets better!" I snapped.

He sighed and shook his head. With a flick of his hand, runes appeared in the air before me—ancient symbols that twisted and coalesced into a shadowy creature with too many limbs to count. It lunged at me, passing through what remained of my shield as if it were mist.

Cold fingers wrapped around my arms, my throat, my waist—the creature's grip unyielding as ice. I struggled, my knotwork magic sliding out and falling away. Its fingers moved through the shield as I struggled to keep it up, even as each knot strained and buckled. My breath snagged.

Zephyrus bellowed louder. His tail slammed against the bars with enough force to make the entire chamber shudder, and the other dragons took up the call, roaring, snarling, and howling.

Ramiel just watched me, his shoulders squared and his expression hardened. An expression almost like regret flickered in his eyes, but he lifted his hand and said something.

I couldn't catch the words. The shadow creature wrapped over me at once, pulseporting me away.

Darkness swallowed me. There was nothing but me, that cold shadow, and my struggling knotwork shield. I couldn't move—couldn't even draw a breath! A voiceless scream locked in my throat.

Then the darkness vanished. Something hard and cold slammed into my shoulder and side. I gasped for air, choking and sputtering as the entity pulled back.

Dozens of questions poured through my mind. Where was I? Where was Zephyrus? My head pounded, the roars and bellows of the dragons now muted and far away. I rolled to my feet, fists clenched. My hair slid over my face. What—I was in a cell now. A heavy iron door glared down at me. Not even a scrap of light slipped beneath the ledges.

"No!" I slammed my hand against the door, the impact stinging through my palm. The bite of a sigil on the other side warned me of the kind of magic he'd used to seal me in. "Let me out!"

The shadow creature had vanished as well.

Falling back, I drew in a long, shaking breath and took in my surroundings. Only a single torch lit this cell, too far up for me to easily reach. A scowl creased my brow. Yet another surprise. Ramiel was full of them. This was no dank cell with mold or rats. The stone floor was smooth, clean stone, swept free of dust. The bed—an actual bed, not a pile of straw—looked softer than what I'd slept on in years, with thick blankets folded neatly at its foot and a soft white pillow stuffed with duck feathers from the looks of a few wisps poking out.

"What kind of prison is this?" I muttered, running my fingers along the wall. As I focused, I willed my energy into my aura. Slowly it expanded out. The fine lines of magic even through the door became more and more visible.

Yes. There!

More sigils and a ward etched into the doorframe.

I managed a bitter grin, pleased and annoyed all at once.

Complex patterns of runic magic interwoven with sigil work, their edges glowing faintly purple in the torchlight. This was more what I'd expected from the fabled Sentinel—powerful, ancient magic that practically hummed with energy. The knotted centers were five strands thick but likely held together by a single particularly strong thread. Once I spotted the weakest one within the five, I could draw it out, work it loose, then make my escape by pulseporting through the gap.

I pressed my hands against the door all the harder, seeking the threads of magic that bound those sigils and wards. Golden light flickered from my fingertips and down my blade as I worked to unravel the knots, searching for weak points in the pattern and that central thread.

The magic resisted, slipping away from my grasp like water.Whatever that shadow creature was, it had drained some of my strength. An uncomfortable emptiness had settled within me. I tried again, digging deeper, my teeth gritted with effort. "It makes no sense," I grumbled. "Why leave the dragons with so little protection and focus so much down here? Wherever here is."

"You're not asking the right questions, little knotweaver," a voice chuckled, seeming to come from the air itself.

I spun around, searching for the source. The underlying shimmer and vibrato of the voice suggested some sort of magical entity. Possibly male. Definitely not Ramiel. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"I am Caein," the strange voice responded. "And I assure you, this tower is well protected. But it was clear you were not a threat to the dragons."

I set my hands on my waist, my fingers tapping with anxious rhythm. "You mean he knew I was coming?"

"The wards and sigils are intelligent. The magic that holds them together is wise enough to recognize certain elements of intruders."

I scowled even more. "What do you mean?"

A low laugh rippled through the cell.

My skin crawled. I didn't like this. And I didn't like this disembodied voice. It sounded like he was one of the Nolches. Souls who had chosen to become incorporated into a building of sorts. While I hadn't run into too many over the years, I still had strong opinions. What kind of person decided to incorporate their living consciousness into a building? It sounded like some sort of esoteric torment.

"I like you, Astraia," Caein continued. His voice hummed in my ears as if he had drawn closer. "And if you weren't someone I liked, you'd have been incinerated before you stepped across the ledge. There is little more precious to Ramiel than his dragons. They're all he has left. But he doesn't believe in killing the innocent. It would go against everything that being a Sentinel stands for."

I scoffed. "That's not what they stand for. The Sentinels guard the Chasm and keep the other kingdoms from leveraging it?—"

"The Sentinels protect the rest of the world from the creatures within the Chasm and the creatures of the Chasm from the rest of the world," Caein said, his voice firm as if he were speaking to an unruly child. "The dragons assist in that. I assure you Zephyrus is as safe as any dragon here."

That hollow sensation agitated me even further. As I folded my arms, I brought my focus inward and tried to build my magic up again. It was difficult to do without food and rest. "I could have been an assassin though. Most assassins wouldn't be asked to target dragons."

Another chuckle followed as if that was a good joke. "Had you been an assassin, you would have encountered very different wards and sigils, little knotweaver."

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, pretending to be unimpressed. "So the wards sensed my intentions? That's ridiculous." It wasn't. It was actually incredibly concerning. Very few magic practitioners could accomplish that.

"The wards sensed your connection," he corrected. "The bond between dragon and rider cannot be disguised any more than the bonds of family, friendship, loyalty, mates, and love."

My fingers curled against my collarbone. My energy was replenishing slowly. Keeping my breaths focused and steady, I channeled my magic throughout my blood and lungs. "Then you should be able to sense just how close I am with him. You know I can't leave without him." My magic surged a little stronger within me, pooling hotter in my solar plexus. The corded magic that bound the wards and sigils together became more clearly visible, the individual threads brightening on the other side of the door. Good. Now if I could just get this Nolche to leave.

"I realize this must be quite hard and exceptionally distressing," Caein said, his voice softening. "But there are forces at work here which you do not understand. Ramiel is not your enemy. Zephyrus belongs here."

I pressed my palm against the cold stone wall. "Why do you talk like he wants to be here? He's been with me since I was twelve. He chose that! He doesn't belong in a cage."

"This is his home. Ramiel did not steal him. He summoned him, and he was reunited with his family, and it was a joyous occasion. He has been missing for so long," Caein continued. His voice grew a little more distant as if he moved up higher toward the ceiling.

I steeled my expression. Zephyrus had left me? No. No! "If that was so, then why would Ramiel not speak to me? Why steal him in the dead of night like a thief? Someone used magic on me! I know the taste. I am not a fool."

"I suspect it is because he wished to avoid conversation and all its complications. You might ask him the next time you see him."

"If all goes well, I'll never see him again," I muttered.

"Given that you are here in the secured guest quarters of Ramiel's tower, I doubt you can forever avoid him."

That note of laughter and smugness annoyed me to no end. But let him laugh. I'd be out of here soon. Ramiel's magic might be unusually powerful and well masked, but I had my tricks. That thread I'd been worrying on the other side was pulsing brighter now, and the hollowness in my chest had faded.

Caein continued, that faint chuckle still in his voice. "I do not recommend that you continue to fight this. Either make peace with Zephyrus's presence here or don't. But perhaps if you make peace, Ramiel will permit you to remain." He stopped. The air chilled a little, then warmed. An odd contemplative hum vibrated above me. "We'll speak again soon, little knotweaver."

The shifting in the air above me confirmed Caein had left. Now was my chance to escape.

Returning to the door, I pressed my palms against the flat surface. The pulse of magic within me went at once to that weakened ward. There. Yes. I removed my blade and pressed the tip to the edge of the metal and focused. The metal warmed against my skin as I channeled my magic through it. Golden threads of energy spilled from my fingertips, weaving through the air as I searched for the ward's structure.

Yes! I'd found it—right in the center five threads I found a runic knot. It was complex, a rich purple, pulsing and living. Unlike the outer wards, this one shifted and writhed as if alive, sensing my intrusion. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. No matter how strong, every knot could be undone.

Breaths steady and focused, I hooked the energy from my blade into that thread and eased it toward me. "Got you now," I murmured softly. The thread resisted once more, then snapped free. The ward pulsed. Snatching at the next thread, I forced it out of its pattern as well. The ward sputtered.

That was all it took. I weakened the rest of it and swiped the threads away. Though the other wards and sigils pulsed in response, there was now a gap large enough to pulseport through. Closing my eyes, I envisioned Zephyrus's cage—the iron bars, the clean straw, his massive blue form waiting just beyond. I gathered my remaining energy and pushed.

My body folded and shot through that gap like Zephyrus diving into a canyon. Bile crept up the back of my throat and coated my tongue, my stomach twisting and rolling. Darkness engulfed me, then spat me out.

I struck the stone floor harder than intended, stumbling, then cracking down.

My head spun, and I knew I wasn't in the stable before I could even open my eyes. It smelled of old books, faded magic, and candle wax rather than smoke, hay, and leather. Eyelids fluttering, I struggled to focus.

What had gone wrong? And why was I even surprised? I'd slipped out of tighter and harder holds than that cell countless times before, but this was Ramiel's tower, so why not bungle it?

All remained heavy and quiet. I lay on the floor of a long stone corridor. Silver-framed paintings lined the wall on both sides with small memorial tables beneath each. Probably former Sentinels and the items that had represented them in life. They all had appearances rather similar to Ramiel: sharp features, purple or purple-blue eyes, contemplative expressions, hooded eyes. All wearing silver and blue.

I pushed myself up slowly, my head throbbing. It hurt worse now than it had with the runes on me or when I was hanging upside down. My aura screamed at me, exhausted and shaken. Whatever was hidden in this place, it had drained me more than expected here as well. Thank goodness there was no sign of that shadow creature.

I cradled my temple as I took this place in. So which direction was the stable from here? I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. It didn't feel like I had the strength to manage even a small pulseport now. Thread rot.

I swallowed hard. Well, at least I had my wits, my blade, and, soon, my friend. Limping along, I took care to remain as quiet as possible.

A few steps farther in whatever direction this was and I caught the first notes of sound other than the faint hissing of torches. Ramiel's voice, low and measured, drifted from a room farther down the hall. A warm glow spilled from an open doorway. "This is unsustainable," he said. "The seals are weakening faster than before, and if I do anything beyond what I have already done, the omenfang will return. We don't have much time."