Page 32 of Wind and Water (Reign of the Witch Queen #2)

Chapter Sixteen

Liam

T ry as I might, none of my magic works in this place.

I can’t scry in the water and reach my mother.

It’s not possible to blast through these walls.

We eat and drink what is brought to us. We bathe to some degree, but without clean clothes, it is almost pointless.

The chamber has only one exit; when closed, it is solid rock.

Coire will not offer us a way out, even though I sense the place knows we do not belong here. Much like Domhan strains against the demons when they rise, this place would expel us if it could.

The longer we are here, the quieter Wren becomes. She struggles to believe we can find our way back. I can’t blame her. The evil of the underworld gnaws at anything good. Sitting beside me, she sighs. “Do you think Momma and the others made it to your home?”

I slip my fingers through hers. “Yes. Once we were taken, it’s likely Venora ignored those who traveled with us.”

“You mean I was taken. You leaped in. It was me she wanted. Though now that she has me, she seems to be leaving me here to rot.” There is none of the passion I’ve grown accustomed to in her voice.

Wishing I had left her in her world won’t make it true, but I still do. I long for the sweetness and sharp wit of the woman I fell in love with. “We’re still alive, and that has to be enough for now, Wren. She’s feeding us, so she wants something.”

“Is this place what you expected?” Wren picks up a small pebble and turns it in her hand.

“What do you mean?”

She tosses the stone. “I guess I always expected hell to be fire and brimstone with screaming souls in torment. This is just a dank prison with that humming sound and nothing more.”

“I haven’t given it much thought, but this would be a perfect hell for me if you were not here.”

Looking at me for the first time in a long time, she asks, “What does that mean?”

“Coire or hell is different for each person. It would be torture for me to be closeted for all eternity in a place like this. With you here, I’m not worried about my state. I’m focused on how to save you.” I wish I had more eloquent words to tell her how I feel.

“Humming.”

“What about it? Is it driving you as nuts as it is me?” She uses her wind magic to lift one of the small stones and swirls it around above her hand.

“Your magic works here.” It’s impressive that she’s learning to use it without imminent death knocking on our door. Humming… I search my memory. “Didn’t one of the young centaurs say that all they heard in their dark prison was a constant humming?”

She looks around. “Are we in the obelisk?”

“Maybe under it.” My heart leaps that after all these days trapped and unable to find a way out, we’ve deduced something that might be useful.

“Does that help us?” A glimmer of hope shines in her eyes.

“I’m not certain, my love, but it’s more than we knew a moment ago and something our captors probably don’t want us to know.”

“Why not?” She wipes her dirty hands on her equally filthy jeans.

“Obelisks are conduits. They are designed to draw power from the underworld and channel it for the user’s purposes.

I’m only guessing, but Venora might be using this one to bolster her magic.

” I wish I had access to all the books in the library at home.

All my years of avoiding study in favor of training for battle, and now I would give anything to read about the dangers and uses of obelisks.

“But, if she’s drawing power, why can’t you get your magic to work here?” She scrunches her nose.

Sitting close, I place a pebble in her palm.

“My magic is in the light. I would have to sully my soul to use the power of this place. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to do such a thing.

My power is replenished by the sun. If I overextended my resources down here, I would die.

” I shrug. “If I were certain doing so would get you to safety, I wouldn’t hesitate, but so far, I haven’t found a way. ”

She spins the stone in her palm with wind magic. Controlling the elements is strong magic that I’ve only seen performed by the oracle. Wren closes her fingers around the stone. “Is my magic evil?”

“No.”

“But if my magic were in the light, it would be weaker down here. I don’t feel weak.

Other than lacking water and an abundance of air, I can do the things I did on the surface.

I’ve even learned some control. Doesn’t that mean my magic is dark?

” She drops the pebble as if it might burst into flames at any moment, and it pings off the floor.

“I’m not an expert, but I don’t think human magic is the same as elven magic. It feels different.” When Wren uses magic, the sensation is different; it is neither light nor dark, but something else. I can’t explain it.

“There is no human magic, Liam. If my people knew what I could do, they would label me a freak. Some people would think the devil was working through me. I’d be shunned or worse.” She kicks the pebble away.

In the time that I’ve known Wren, I’ve grown in so many ways.

She pointed out long-held prejudices I’d considered normal.

It never occurred to me that she’d lived her life on the other end of similar disdain.

“You are exceptional, Wren. Living in a world where magic is rare forced you to hide your gifts and kept you from learning all you are capable of. We will study your magic together. There is much to learn.”

She dashes aside a tear and nods.

The metallic thunk of the door opening forces us to abandon the conversation. It’s too soon for more food to be coming. My heart races as we stand. Hoping the old gods are listening, I pray that I can protect Wren from whatever comes through.

Ciaran strides in with ten demon servants, each carrying a spear two times taller than their height. I know they’re strong, but how can they properly wield the weapons? “You will come with me. If you attempt anything foolish, one of you will die.” He smirks at me.

I would be the one to be sacrificed. I wasn’t supposed to be here at all. It’s not surprising that he’ll use my life and well-being as a way to keep Wren in line. “Where are you taking us?”

“Think of it as a tour of your new land.” Ciaran laughs as the demons surround us and turn back toward the door. The sound is stiff, metallic, and rings with insanity.

As soon as we step toward the open door, the foul stench of sulfur fills my nose, making me gag. After the initial shock, my body adjusts, and I’m able to push aside my natural reaction to the unpleasant gases of this place.

Wren gasps for air and clutches her throat. Her eyes are wide with panic as she tries to draw air into her lungs. She coughs and retches.

I grip her shoulders. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

Rolling his eyes, Ciaran scoffs. “The weakness of these humans is disgusting.” He casts a spell and creates a sheer bubble of breathable air to encompass the three of us while the demons remain outside the protection.

“They’re not much different from those creatures.

” He points to the demons. “They don’t survive above for long.

” The way he grins, I get the impression that he has taken pleasure in watching the demons suffocate.

Wren draws slow breaths and blinks the tears from her eyes.

My stomach lurches. They are horrible and unpleasant, but to torture anyone, let alone a lesser being, is vile. “Where are you taking us, Ciaran?”

Another baleful grin rather than answering the question.

Outside our prison cell, we walk along a precipice. Below, liquid fire boils and spits. A cacophony of wind and fire fills my head. The stench of death mixes with brimstone and sulfur. Sweat beads on my flesh, but dries before it can run. My eyes burn from the noxiousness.

This is more like Wren’s vision of Coire.

She begins to breathe normally, but her skin is gray and pale. Her lips are pulled into a tight line as if holding back pain. Fisting her hands at her sides, she shuffles after Ciaran without a word.

I long to open my mind to her and comfort her, but I keep my thoughts and worries to myself, rather than risk letting anyone here know the depth of my connection to Wren. They would only use it to attack us. The less they know, the better our chances of escaping are.

In some places, the precipice narrows to barely a foot wide. Wren hesitates.

Ciaran grabs her by the hair and drags her across the twenty-foot span.

Wren screams and clutches her hair, trying to free herself.

“Stupid human with all your fears and frailties.”

When he releases her, she stumbles to the hard ground and grips her head. After a moment, she looks at him. There is no fear in her gaze, only rage.

I have seen her fight and win. I’ve seen her anger and joy. This pure hatred is something new. It’s a part of her she has never shared with me, and I can’t say I mind. While I love all of Wren Martin with my entire being, to see her wrath, I’m glad it’s not directed at me.

For one instant, Ciaran’s jaw goes slack and his eyes widen.

He might even regret his words and actions.

In a flash, he fears this human woman whom he’s shown only contempt.

With a hesitation, he shakes his head and puts his mask of indifference in place.

“Get up before I do you real harm, chosen one .” The last words are filled with sarcasm.

I wrap my hand around Wren’s upper arm and help her to her feet.

It takes all my energy not to use every bit of my remaining magic and send Ciaran into the fiery pits beneath us.

Reminding myself that doing so would cause more harm than good, I know this pig’s time will come.

If I’m lucky, it will be my sword that slits his throat.

Killing has never been something I longed for, but for him, I’ll make an exception. Watching life flow out of his treacherous eyes will soothe my soul.