So, instead of escaping, I watched as the High Elves walked down the corridor between the cells. Leading the way was a stocky guard with blond eyebrows. He tried to look confident, but his knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword.
Behind him walked a pair of taller elves—a man and a woman. They were dressed in the ivory robes preferred by nobility, and both wore a thin hawthorn-wood wand on their hip. The woman was beautiful, with the honey-colored hair and eyes typical of their kind. The man, however, looked too pale, like he’d faded in the sun.
I slid Skalei next to the crystal in my shoe to hide it as they drew closer to me. I tried to look peaceful when the trio stopped in front of my cell, folding my hands in my lap.
“You’re the one who tried to break into Silfarson’s?” asked the woman. Her voice was musical but unmistakably hostile, like a flute played in a minor key.
She irritated me already.
I sighed. “I successfully broke into Silfarson’s.”
“You know, she’s technically right, Revna.” The man laughed. I recognized the voice as Sune’s. “She was caught escaping from the bank.”
“Semantics,” she snapped. I regretted my impetuousness, considering her expression said she’d love an excuse to rip my throat out.
Sune’s eyes narrowed. “Tell us why you tried to rob the bank.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. I couldn’t let on the truth. “Because I want to be rich.”
Revna arched an eyebrow. “Even Night Elves aren’t stupid enough to break into our banks without a good reason. We know your name. Ali, daughter of Volundar.”
My throat went dry. Did they know what I did? That I wasn’t simply a common thief?
“Volundar,” said Sune. “As far as I can tell, he’s just another dead Night Elf. Your mother’s name isn’t even recorded; that’s how insignificant she was. Though I imagine she’s dead too, rotted away in the caves. Is that right?”
Rage tightened its grip on my heart, but I fought to master control. I kept my mouth shut to stop myself from hurling curses at them. I didn't want them uttering a word about my parents.
“I would feel pity for your wretched kind, if it weren’t for the fact that the Night Elves caused Ragnarok,” added Revna. “You killed the gods, worshipping Loki like you did. Naughty, naughty. You’re lucky we let you live at all, after what your kind did to the world.”
I wanted to tell them that was a lie—at least, I’d always felt it was a lie. But I had to keep up the charade that they weren’t getting to me. “Who cares about the past?” I spat. “I care only for gold.”
The only comfort in this entire situation was that no one had mentioned Barthol yet, and he clearly wasn’t here. I was growing ever more hopeful he’d made it back to the safehouse.
Just behind them, in the shadows, the blue-eyed prisoner began to stir. His shadowy magic condensed around him.
When I looked back at the two blondes, I saw that Sune was staring at the ring on my finger. “Where did you get that?”
I glanced at it. Somehow, in the shitstorm that had erupted since the robbery, I’d totally forgotten the ring I’d found on the floor.
I held my hand up with a smile. “Like I said. I like gold.”
“That ring belongs to us.” Sune slid his hand between the bars. “Give it to me.”
I kept my expression neutral. “I’ll give it to you if you release me.”
Revna folded her arms. “Don’t be absurd. How about we agree not to torture you until you can no longer remember your name?”
“I’d love to peel back her face,” Sune added enthusiastically.
A compelling counteroffer. I wasn’t sure I had much negotiating power in this situation.
With a scowl, I gripped the gold encircling my finger—but when I pulled, it wouldn’t budge. I pulled harder, with a rising sense of panic. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw tendrils of the prisoner’s magic twisting across the stones between the cells.
“It’s stuck.” Some strange magic was binding it to my skin.
“She can’t remove it,” said Revna. “Guard, fetch my skinning blade.”
I was not going to endure a face peeling just because I couldn’t remove a freaking ring. I still had a chance to break out of here if I could manage to catch the door opening at the right time.
I pulled Skalei from my boot and pressed the blade against my finger, just below the ring. Immediately, blood welled against the blade. I was gritting my teeth, ready to cut into my skin if I had to, when an unearthly growl rose from the prisoner’s cell.
A boom erupted from across the cell block as the prisoner slammed his hands against the bars once more, and the sound of the impact reverberated through the prison. The pair of High Elves jumped like they’d been shot with a hex, and the guard screamed like a baby.
“Take her,” said Sune to the guard. With shaking hands, the guard hurried to open my cell. I slid my blade into my boot again, though no one seemed worried about it.
As soon as the cell door was open, Revna raised a wand. I had no room to dodge, and her spell slammed into my chest. My body stiffened as ice flooded my veins. With my muscles no longer responding, I teetered for a moment before toppling backward like a felled tree.
When I came to, I was being dragged by ropes bound tightly around my wrists. The words face peeling slammed through my mind. Though my body was still frozen by Revna’s spell, the effects were starting to wear off a little. I could just about wiggle my toes and fingers.
Quickly, I took in my surroundings. I was outside. It was near midnight. The moon was out, luminous and full. A thin breeze blew icy cold, and my breath caught at the chill, the winter air stinging my cheeks.
A few golden spires loomed above me, but the massive walls of the Citadel were nowhere to be seen. Instead, short parapets rose on either side. The stone was the gleaming white of the Citadel’s walls. We seemed to be on a curving walkway surrounding the fortress, towering somewhere above Beacon Hill.
Thing was, since I’d never been inside the Citadel before, I didn’t have a sense of the layout at all. I had no idea what to expect next. Were they going to throw me off the edge of the tower? I remembered vaguely that used to be the punishment for treason in ancient times.
My head throbbed as I tried to formulate a plan, but I’d been through such a beating tonight that I was nearly out of coherent thoughts. I still had the vergr stone, at least, but I couldn’t get to my shoe with my wrists bound.
Skalei always came to me when I called for her, and the blade could slice through rope. But I’d need the guard to stop yanking me before I could pause to make that work. I’d get one chance to call Skalei and make my escape, so I’d have to consider it carefully.
Once again, I tasted blood on my lips, and my thoughts drifted a little. Somehow, it was hard to think clearly when your body was magically frozen, like Novocaine for the mind.
Vaguely, I remembered I was supposed to play Rick Roll for Barthol tonight, and I wondered if he’d manage to find it on his own. Would he be okay without me? He must be out of his mind with worry, and I felt desperate to get a message to him. He wasn’t in the dungeon, and I hadn’t seen him out here on the roof. With any luck, he was back in the Shadow Caverns. On a normal night, I’d be making mushroom soup for him, while he made up wild stories about a talking goat character he’d invented, or we would draw on the walls. When we were super bored, we would try to choreograph dances. In the Shadow Caverns, we had to do our best to make our own entertainment. Tonight, he’d be telling stories of Jeremy the Alcoholic Goat to the silent walls.