A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER FIVE

She had no idea at what point her next visitor arrived. The hazy darkness and the frequent slashes of pain in her body left her indifferent. If they'd come to stare, let them. Still, it surprised Jill to learn how popular she was. Idiotically, the words 'you will be visited this night by three spirits' kept running through her head. So much for the vaunted isolation of the Inbastra.

Too bad I'm not up to appreciating the irony.

Instead, she lay with eyes closed, feeling the perpetual hum of the magic about her. Without the wards, it made itself a constant presence, both the good and the rotting threads alike.

Without bothering to rise from her mattress, she speculated on her guest's identity. Not enough noise to be Tamas. Too much to be Rydorel. They approached from the opposite direction, slow-moving and trying very hard to be quiet. The weak and unsteady light of a candle illuminated the walls. Eventually, its brightness came to stop before her cell.

"My lady?" a voice whispered in the wavering darkness. "Please, my lady. Answer me."

At first, she didn't recognize the voice. It was a young woman's, soft and lilting, musical in its clarity. Certainly not Rayna. She couldn't imagine Rayna saying 'please' to anyone. Rayna would have barged into the cell and no doubt sniffed her. No, make that licked. A priestess? Memory jogged loose and Jill sat bolt upright, wincing with pain. No, not a priestess. A princess.

"Please tell me you're all right. That Tamas didn't hurt you," the voice continued, words anxiously spilling over each other. "We hid until he left. I wanted to help you but didn't know how. But we have the key to your cell. Gunnar and I are here to rescue you."

Callista.

Not in a million years had Jill expected this. In its own way, it startled her more than Rydorel. In the throne room, Callista appeared wrapped securely around Tamas' finger, a delicate flower growing under his careful nurturing. Yet now she stood before her cell, wringing her hands, and saying earnestly she would help Jill escape. Was there anyone in Brexten's family not working a hidden agenda?

Jill heard the key inserted into the lock and the door swing open. The hinges screeched and each sound echoed in the cavernous space. It was a wonder every guard in the Inbastra didn't hear their jailbreak.

Callista crept to Jill's side, holding the candle close. Its weak flame threw Callista's face into shadowed relief, drawing heavy lines of worry. Yet despite them and with her face scrubbed clean of makeup, her beauty radiated in the cell. Like Brexten, she seemed so much like a sliver of bright sunlight brought to life. Rydorel, Brexten, Callista: Treyosh and his wife had produced astounding children.

"We must hurry, my lady. Goddess, you're injured. What has he done to you?" Callista breathed in horror.

Surprising herself, Jill edged away. Callista might offer freedom, but what price did she attach? She wasn't just Brexten's little sister. She was Tamas' wife. That meant something much more dangerous. Recklessly, because she expected words from Callista that might somehow trap her, Jill said, "What's Tamas done? He's hit me, tried to rape me, attempted to read my thoughts, bragged quite a lot, and utterly scared the shit out of me. Him, I understand, even if I'm not sure what he wants yet. You, I don't. It might be best if you leave and I stay here."

Callista froze, her expression stricken. Jill, without wards, caught a fleeting sense of despair. "I see. I thought that maybe..." She stopped. Tried again. "For you to say that... I didn't realize the world thought of me that way. Not in all this time did it ever occur to me that people might think I actually enjoyed being his wife."