Rise (18 page)

My breathing sounded heavy echoing off the stone walls of the dungeon. I needed to escape and save my father. On two separate occasions when I was angry, Anders and Vidar both said that if they hadn’t been wearing the medallion, they would have been hurt. Maybe I could project my power toward the door and open it.

Removing the magic-blocking gloves, I took a deep breath and concentrated on my inner power. I didn’t feel anything. I tried again. Nothing at all. An emptiness filled me, and I hunched over, wanting to cry. Perhaps this room had some sort of spell cast on it that blocked magic, similar to the medallion and the gloves.

Sitting there, I tried to remain calm and conserve my energy.

***

Someone yanked me to my feet, startling me. The
soldat
roughly shoved me out of the room and led me down a dimly lit hallway lined with iron doors. Occasionally, someone moaned or chains clanked. We climbed a set of narrow stairs and came to a locked door. The man
banged twice, and the door swung open.

He grabbed my arm and took me into an enormous hall, the ceiling at least three or four stories above my head. Tapestries lined the walls, and rugs covered the gray stone floor. Torches lit up the massive room, reflecting off the stained glass windows near the top, which allowed in the gray light of day.

The
soldat
kept a tight hold on me as we crossed the room and stopped before an arched door where two sentries stood on either side.

“Inform His Highness the prisoner is here.”

One of the sentries disappeared inside the room. He returned a moment later and granted me entrance.

I stepped inside a large, elegant dining room, the door clicking shut behind me. A table stretched the entire length of the room; heavy curtains covered the windows, blocking the daylight, and torches hung on the walls illuminating the room in a soft glow.

At the head of the table sat Morlet wearing his black cape, concealing his face in shadow. No guards or servants were present.

“Greetings,” Morlet said. Even though this was the first time I had ever spoken to or seen him in person, he was exactly as he’d been when we communicated through my dreams. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I answered, unable to believe he stood only a few feet from me.

“You always have a choice,” he said. “Whether you make the correct one is another matter entirely.” Two plates of food sat untouched on the table. “Care to join me?” He pointed to the chair on his left.

“Tell Skog Heks to release my father,” I demanded, feigning confidence.

Morlet chuckled. “She doesn’t have him,” he admitted. “I only said that to get you here.”

Skog Heks didn’t have my father? Morlet tricked me?
Anders and Vidar had warned me not to trust him. Shame washed over me at how gullible I’d been. I would never make that mistake again.

“My guards tell me you didn’t have your bo staff with you.” His words were short and clipped, as if upset.

“I was on my way to retrieve it when you brought me here.”

He slammed his hand on the table, making me jump. “I thought you already had it.”

The only exit in the room was the door through which I’d entered.

“Sit down,” Morlet growled.

I hesitated. Should I try to escape?

“Oh, my dear Kaia,” he purred. “You’re not going to be shy now, are you?” He stood and glided over to me. There were at least two
soldats
outside the door. Was it possible to outsmart Morlet and fight off his men?

“Well?” he asked.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Stay and see what he had in store? Or make a run for it? “Why are you wearing your cape?”

He placed his cold hand against my cheek, and I flinched. “My cape is always on unless I’m alone in my bedchamber,” he whispered. “You are the only one who has seen me without it.” His hand warmed, and a sense of calm melted through me.

“Why do you hide behind it?” My head started to feel heavy. He had to be using magic on me. I took a step back, away from him, breaking our physical connection and immediately felt better.

His hand dropped to his side. “It’s easier this way,” he mumbled as he turned and went back to the table, taking his seat. Morlet ate his food, his face hidden. “I suggest you eat while you can.”

My stomach growled because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Inhaling the scent of honey bread, I took a seat and picked up a spoon, taking a bite of the porridge sprinkled with cinnamon. It was delicious. Before I knew it, my plate and bowl were empty. Morlet tilted his head revealing his chin and a sly smile.

“Since I don’t have my weapon, are you going to release me?” There was no reason to keep me here without it.

“No.” He stood, the chair scraping against the stone floor. “Killing you is the only way for the dark magic that resides inside of me to be returned to its rightful owner.”

“Then what?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a napkin and leaning back on my chair.

“I’ll be free from this wretched curse.” His fist pounded on the table, rattling the eating utensils.

“That’s not what I meant.” I stood to join him. “What are you going to do with yourself once you’re free from magic? Will you start ruling justly?” If the Krigers were going to die so balance could be restored, he’d better plan to right the wrongs of Nelebek.

Morlet laughed, the sound dark and menacing. “If I have my way, the rest of my days will be spent alone in the forest, away from the capital.”

“Who will rule in your place?”

“I don’t care what happens to Nelebek,” he spat.

Was he so self-centered that he couldn’t see or understand what he was doing to the kingdom? “In your obsession to capture the Krigers, you’ve completely neglected Nelebek. You dishonor the memory of your parents and brother. If you became better acquainted with your people, you’d see they’re working like animals yet starving to death. I’d hoped that once you were free from your
burden
, you would become the ruler this kingdom needs. Clearly, that’s not the case. You’re rotting away just like Nelebek.”

He turned away from me, his cape floating around his legs from the sudden movement. “I should never have become king in the first place.” He snatched a candlestick from the table and hurled it across the room. The metal clanged against the stone wall before tumbling to the ground.

I moved closer to him. “Didn’t you just say we all have a choice?”

He swiveled around to face me. “Don’t lecture me,” he snapped. “I didn’t ask for this magic.”

“No, you didn’t. But you certainly can choose how to wield it.”

“You know nothing,” he spat. “The magic wields
me
.” His shoulders hunched forward. “I am but a tool. The day I fell in love, I lost my free will.”

“No, you didn’t.” Love didn’t take away your choice. It wasn’t supposed to work that way.

“Kaia,” he whispered. “You have no idea. You shouldn’t even be here.” He shook his head.

A
soldat
entered the room. “Your Highness,” he announced. “She is ready for you.”

Morlet yanked me out of the dining room, through the great hall, and into a dark sitting room. Two sofas and several chairs were situated in the center of the space. The only light came from the fire in the hearth. Incense hung heavy in the air, making my head spin. I wanted to run from the room, but Morlet gripped both my arms, holding me firmly in front of him.

“Here’s the last Kriger,” he said in a bitter voice.

I didn’t see who he was speaking to. Suddenly, a shadow detached from the wall and glided toward me, morphing into a hunched over human-like figure. As it neared, it appeared to be an elderly woman with long, knotted gray hair hanging down her back. She reminded me of Grei Heks.

“
Gha
,” the old woman said, the menacing sound making my skin prickle. Her eyes were solid black, and I took a step away from her, bumping into Morlet.

He kept hold of my arms, squeezing tightly. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

“A girl?” Skog Heks crackled. “All these years searching. No wonder we couldn’t find all twelve Krigers.”

My head felt heavy, as if I were about to fall asleep. Incense smoke swirled around me in the hot room. Morlet’s right hand slid down my arm to my wrist. As soon as we had skin-to-skin contact, the fogginess receded, and I could focus again.

“How old are you?” she asked while her plump, wrinkled fingers played with a string of beads.

“Sixteen,” I replied.

Her black eyes narrowed. “Your power must be strong.” Skog Heks closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “I can feel your strength,” she purred. “It will be a pleasure watching you squirm.” A devilish smile spread across her face. “Take her to my play room.”

“I got her here—she’s mine,” Morlet said.

She fingered her beads. “Do you want to find out where her weapon is, or should I?”

Morlet stiffened behind me. “I’ll do it.”

“Then by all means,” she said. “Get to work.”

He led me from the room, back to the great hall. I inhaled the cool air as Morlet dragged me along after him. “Where are we going?”

“The torture chamber.”

Fear shot through me.
Torture?
I couldn’t wait to be united with the Krigers before attempting to flee. Six
soldats
marched behind me. After escaping Morlet, I’d have to deal with them. Since they were the king’s personal guards, they were probably lethal fighters.

I needed to act quickly while still on the ground floor. Fabric hung on the wall to my left concealing the windows. Pretending to trip, I fell, tugging Morlet down with me. Caught off guard, he didn’t have an opportunity to use his magic. I rolled, hauling him on top of me so his back was to my chest. Wrapping my right arm around his neck, I squeezed. The men surrounded us, drawing their swords and pointing the tips at me.

“Stay back!” I shouted, pressing harder. “Or he dies.”

After a long, excruciating ten seconds, Morlet’s body went limp—he’d passed out. I reached above me, grabbed the nearest
soldat’s
leg, and let my power surge through me. He screamed and tumbled to the ground. I shoved Morlet off me and jumped to my feet, my hands outstretched.

Everyone backed up, clutching their heads in pain. I continued to release my power. Once they were far enough away, I picked up one of the dropped swords and yanked down the nearest curtain. Light burst into the corridor. Using the hilt of the sword, I whacked the lead glass, shattering it. After shooting one last burst of power toward the men, I dropped the sword and climbed out the window, falling ten feet to the ground and landing on brown weeds.

Scrambling to my feet, I took off sprinting along the side of the castle knowing men armed with bows would be after me at any moment. I needed to make it past the wall that surrounded the castle grounds and into the city to hide. When I reached the end of the castle, I ran across the open field heading straight toward the wall. There were a few large oak trees, but not enough to conceal me.

My entire body became paralyzed, and I collapsed to the ground. Cold liquid slithered through my limbs. Pounding footsteps quickly approached from behind, and
soldats
surrounded me.

“Remember,” Morlet said, “don’t kill her.” Black fabric came into my line of sight. “That was a very stupid thing you did.” He crouched beside me. His blue eyes glistened with malice beneath the hood of his cape. “How could you do that to me?”

Still frozen, I couldn’t speak. Morlet touched my wrist, and my body warmed, movement gradually returning.

“What did you expect?” I said. “For me to go quietly to your torture chamber? I thought you knew me better than that.”

Morlet stood, pulling me up with him. He yanked my arms behind my back and bound them with rope. My vision blurred, and standing became difficult.

“You used too much power,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re going to pass out. Wonder what will happen to you when you’re unable to fight back.”

I wanted to punch him but instead, sank into his arms and into a dream.

***

Blackness surrounded me. Something cold and hard pressed against my body. My breathing sped up, and fear cascaded through me. Whatever contraption I was in was meant to instill fear. I had to remain calm.

But I couldn’t.

My heart thundered as if it were going to burst out of my chest. There wasn’t enough air to breathe. I wanted to scream and pound against the device I was in. But that was what Morlet wanted. When he was ready, he’d let me out of this thing.

Closing my eyes, I imagined my father reading to me. When that didn’t calm me down, I pictured walking in the forest with the towering trees. Anders’s face appeared before me.

“Kaia,” he said. “You have to be strong. You can survive this. You’re the toughest girl I know.” He smiled, filling me with confidence.

Something banged above me, and I heard people talking. Light suddenly gleamed into my eyes, making me squint. Rough hands grabbed my arms, pulling me to a sitting position. I was in a rectangular box that looked like a coffin. I jumped out and stood staring at the sadistic contraption I had just spent an hour or so in.

“Ever wonder what it would feel like to be buried alive?” Morlet asked from behind me. “Put her on the table.”

Scattered throughout the room were various instruments I’d never seen before. To my right was a wooden rack with chains attached to either side. The chains were connected to a crank. In the corner of the room was a pointy metal instrument covered in blood. My stomach twisted violently, and I lifted my hands in the air, trying to gather my power in order to protect myself.

“Oh, my dear Kaia,” Morlet purred. “I’ve taken precautions so you can’t do that in here.”

He must have cast some sort of spell on the room in order to render my power useless—which meant that he couldn’t use his magic, either. Two
soldats
clasped my arms, dragging me over to a flat wooden table in the center of the room.

“Please don’t do this,” I begged Morlet. “What do you want? You already know I’m the twelfth Kriger.”