Hawk Heart

29. Time, A Race

It had been hours, or perhaps several decades when the door to my maddening room finally swung open. A guard I had never seen stood on the other side. 

"You're free to go." 

He left without another word. It took me a few moments to realize that I was lying on the stone floor, gazing at the light that now entered the room. I managed to get to my feet, taking deep breaths when I stepped outside. I staggered along the corridor, grabbing on to the stone wall as best as my callously hands could. But there was no way I was leaving before I saw Zeph again. 

The moment I stepped outside the hallway, I spotted a couple of guards leaning near the doorway. I walked over to them. "Can I...see him?" 

One of the guards glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, while the other rolled his eyes, least interested. 

"The guy...you caught. The shadowcaster. Can I please..?"

The men exchanged glances. "You're the Lightwielder kid, aren't you?" 

I nodded. 

An odd look passed across their faces, and whatever was the reason, they allowed me to see Zeph. I was taken aback as one of them started leading me towards another dark hallway. This one barely wide enough for one adult man. The temperature there seemed to drop to negative as my teeth started chattering. The man stopped at pointed to the end of the hallway where I could see metal grills, illuminated by a dim light somewhere overhead. 

I walked over to the prison cell, each of my steps heavier than than the last. And even before I could see Zeph, I heard his voice. 

"Wasn't expecting a conjugal visit so soon." 

He emerged into the light, his characteristic smirk still plastered onto his face. I couldn't understand. How could he still be so cocky after everything? 

"What are they...doing to you?" 

He looked mostly unhurt. Although that could just be attributed to his unnaturally quick healing. 

"You need to get the fuck out of here before they change their mind," he said.

"Why do you care? I'm just a useless pawn to you anyway." 

He scoffed. "Get the fuck over it, Goldie," he said. "You came to us. In the underbelly. We just took an opportunity."

"So...its true?" I asked, hating how my voice sounded. 

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "That's what it was meant to be atleast," he added in a low voice as he leaned against the bars, his hands gripping them. 

"But then...when you found out my dad didn't really care about me...I mean...you could've just disposed me off by then. But why didn't you?" 

"That would've been the smarter thing," he admitted. "At least then you wouldn't fucking sit here and ask me brain dead questions when I'm in a fucking prison." 

"Why didn't you then?" I asked, louder this time. 

He was quiet, his eyes endless voids of darkness. With the backdrop of the prison behind him, he looked intimidating, but I needed answers. 

"I couldn't do it. I...I should have. You wouldn't have been stuck in this mess. None of you would..." he sighed, leaning against the iron bars. 

"Why didn't you?" I repeated for a third time, moving closer to him. 

"It became...harder to stay away from you," he said finally. "And then...you told me that you'd fallen in love with me." 

"Do you wish I hadn't?" I asked, gripping the iron bars just below his hands as I leaned closer.