Page 30 of Wind and Water (Reign of the Witch Queen #2)

Chapter Fifteen

Wren

T his pain is like when I came through to Domhan, only worse.

If a person could remember their birth, I wonder if this is what it would feel like.

It’s as if I’m being torn apart and remade, over and over again.

My screams don’t reach my ears, and only the rawness of my throat tells me I’m still making sounds.

A faint red glow in the distance grows larger. I hit something with my shoulder and my back. Pain shoots through me as my descent slows. Over and over, my body beats against walls I cannot see.

I crash into something slimy and mushy. Pushing to my hands and knees, I draw in a breath, trying to fill my aching lungs. Sulfur burns my eyes and nose.

A sickeningly sweet male voice that sounds far away and muddled as if it’s underwater reaches me as my sword is taken from where it landed beside me. “You’ll get used to it. Just breathe, human.”

Something splashes down hard against me, pushing me back into the muck. Arms wrap around me, lifting me to standing. My vision is blurry, and my lungs feel as if they’re on fire. The arms hold me against a hard surface.

“Ciaran, you treacherous pig.” Liam’s voice is comforting to hear, even though it sounds muddled and unclear.

Something sharp pinches my throat.

“The useless second son. I should have known you would create havoc when my plan was so perfect,” presumably someone named Ciaran, says. “Throw your weapons over there or I’ll cut her from chin to eye and see how her magic works from the inside out.”

Liam’s arms tighten, and his voice is low in my ears.

“Slow your breathing. The air is nauseating but not deadly.” He wipes the muck from my face.

The clank of metal to my right is likely his sword and dagger hitting the floor.

“Is there water in this hole?” Liam is louder, his voice harsh, and he didn’t ask the question I expected him to.

A long huff that reminds me of a spoiled woman comes from Ciaran. “Bring her here. I will have water brought. I had no idea this human would be so weak. The other was much hardier.”

Liam lifts me.

I try to ask about the other human, but while my brain screams the question, only garbled noises form in my mouth. A fear that whatever happened in that portal has damaged me permanently shoots through me. I stiffen, clutching at Liam.

His mind opens to me. You are alright. Just breathe.

Where are we?

Later. I don’t want him to know we have this link. Liam sets me on hard ground. “Where is the water?”

“You never did have any patience. I would have thought all these years as a lowly soldier, you would have learned some.” Ciaran’s voice drips with disgust.

I can’t see him, but I already hate him. That thought eases my panic, and I’m able to slow my breathing. One long inhale and another, darkness and light form distorted patterns in my vision. Liam’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “The oil we fell into needs to be washed away. Water is coming.”

Someone shuffles across the stone floor.

“Put it there by the prisoners.” Ciaran’s disdain is unmistakable. Whomever he was talking to, he despises as much as he hates Liam. “Now, get out, filth.”

Cloth tears and water sloshes. Liam wipes a warm, wet rag over my forehead, then my eyes. He continues to wash my face and my ears.

“Disgusting.” Ciaran makes an ugly grunt. “Fix your human, Riordan. In the meantime, know that you are now prisoners of Venora Braddish, Queen of Domhan. Do not leave this chamber. This is the only place you can survive in Coire.”

The cloth stills at my chin, and Liam says, “You have fallen so far that you now tread in the underworld. Was it not bad enough to betray your people? Now you have betrayed the old gods as well?”

Heavy, booted steps draw close, followed by a loud slap of skin upon skin.

Liam’s touch falls away. “I would kill you if I didn’t think my queen would wish to toy with you first. I have always considered you the most useless of your mother’s sons, and I can see I was quite right.

However, that younger brother of yours is in the running.

Has he ever found a profession? At least he has magic to boast about.

” The boots retreat behind a door that sounds more like a vault closing with a resounding clang.

“Liam?” It comes out gurgled, but at least his name pushed out.

His rough hands touch my cheek. “I’m here. You’re going to be fine. I need to wash the oil away.”

My sight clears, and Liam’s face comes into focus. A dark red mark on his cheek is already starting to shade blue. Reaching out, I touch the mark. He has a gash on his forehead and blood stains his hair. “Why did you provoke him?”

A wicked smile pulls at his lips. “To see if I could. He was always easily rattled, and I wanted to make sure that hadn’t changed.

It’s a vulnerability, but he’s too arrogant to realize his own weakness.

I’m glad your vision has returned as well as your ability to speak.

” Meticulously, he continues to wash an opaque black film from my neck, chest, and arms. “I wish I had clean clothes for you, but our packs remained with the centaurs.”

“Momma?” I try to stand. Fear and worry push me to my knees.

Liam holds me around the waist. “The centaurs will take care of her. They will take her to my home, and my mother will see to her safety and comfort.” He looks around us. “Which is more than I’m able to do for you.”

I hesitate to call the place a room. It’s more of a carved-out cave with high ceilings and torches set in sconces.

The black walls have ridges that follow no pattern.

If this is hell, then I’d guess this is some kind of lava tube that has been modified to hold us.

The stench of sulfur and burnt hair permeates everything.

There is no furniture, only levels of the black stone.

At the far right is an oozing puddle that I’m guessing is where I landed.

“Why were you not affected by that?” I point to the oily puddle.

“I trained for demon attacks. They’ve been known to use Coire oil to disorient entire armies. Of course, that was a thousand suns ago. I’ll admit, I thought the training ridiculous until a few minutes ago.” He shrugs.

Able to breathe normally, I only wish the air wasn’t so foul. “This is hell?”

“I think this is a chamber designed to hold those from above. The rest of Coire is reported to be pure poison to you and me. Though I don’t know of anyone who’s returned from such a place to give an accurate report.

” Liam tears his pant leg, exposing a deep gash.

He runs his hand over the wound, healing it.

He rinses the rag he tore from the bottom of his shirt in a black cauldron filled with water.

The pot appears to be made from the same substance as the walls.

“How did Ciaran leave here if the rest is unbreathable?” I stretch my arms and legs, which have nearly recovered their strength. I wince from the bruises on my back.

“Let me see.” He turns me and pulls my shirt up, exposing my skin. “You may have broken ribs.” He’s so gentle when he runs his fingers along my side and where my ribs connect at the back, I forgive him for manhandling me. “I’d like to use magic to look.”

“Um. You might need your strength for other things down here.” I pull my shirt down and test my side with a stretch. The pain is sharp and forces me to breathe through it before it eases.

“It won’t take much to look, and if I need to heal a bone, I’ll still have plenty. Healing is not as taxing as demon slaying, at least not this kind.” He pulls me close and sits behind me.

Under other circumstances, sitting between his legs in an all-black room might be romantic, but right now, I’m half furious and half terrified. I’m in hell, literally. Despite leading a mostly good life, I find myself in this place with no idea if we can get out.

Though probably hearing my thoughts, Liam gives no words of comfort. He wraps one large hand around my lats, and his warm magic tingles along my skin. “There are two breaks.” Try not to call out, my love.

The sensation of Liam’s magic grows stronger. Pain lances up my side as something snaps and cracks inside me. Blood flows through my eardrums, blocking out any other sound. I bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming.

Liam’s other hand cups the side of my head. “I’m sorry.”

Heat sears my flesh as if I’ve stepped too close to an open blaze. A moment later, the pain and heat vanish as if they’d never been there.

Removing his hand, he moves out from behind me. His voice is in my head. The longer we can keep our feelings for each other from the witch queen and Ciaran, the better.

I suppose he’s right, but I miss his touch and his body against mine. Stretching as I did before, I’m astonished that the pain is more of a dull memory. I nod. “Thank you. That’s better.”

Sitting on the hard ground, we lean against the wall. No one comes. The sounds that reach us are grating and make me cringe. I don’t know what it is, but it sounds like metal upon metal. “Have I gotten used to the air here as well as the oil on my clothes?”

“Yes. It’s not deadly. Only disorienting and admittedly horrible.”

My stomach growls. “Do you think they intend to starve us?”

“I wish I could say no, but I have no idea what they intend. Venora needs you, or she would have had Ciaran kill you. She thought Birdie was you, and your mother suffered for it with torture. That indicates a desire for knowledge rather than destruction.” He gets up and walks around the room, touching the black walls and muttering in the elven language.

“How can you be so casual about these things?” My voice bites despite an attempt to be rational. He’s a soldier. He’s seen much more than I have. He’s trained to stay calm. I shouldn’t be upset with him for being what he was trained to be.