Goddess Of Ashes and Sun

CHAPTER ELEVEN (Shea)

"So when you said I'd get to see my friends downstairs, you meant I'd get to torture them personally," I said, staring down at the lump of pain and rags at my feet.

"You're seeing him aren't you?" Njord said, staring down at Greyson in disgust.

Yes, I was, and he looked like shit. He was sitting limply against the cell's stone wall. His salt and pepper hair hung limply around his gaunt face. His shirt was in filthy tatters and you could see the deep slashes festering underneath.

"The guy looks half dead already, what am I going to do to him?" I asked, ignoring Njords glares. He was still pissed at me for trying to strangle him and breaking his nose, his neck was covered in bruises in the shape of my hands, and his nose was swollen.

"We haven't been able to break him, and I'm afraid our guards will get frustrated and just end up killing him," he said, shrugging.

"What are you trying to get out of him?" I asked, sighing.

"Where the layer of the Freeland rebels is, and where the Elder Clyde is. They're close, so don't believe and bullshit he says about not knowing Clyde," Njord said, turning to go. "Good luck," he added and slammed the cell door shut behind him.

Sighing heavily, I sat down next to Greyson and nudged his calf with my foot, tapping out a beat. Eventually, he let out a groan.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

His head snapped up in surprise. Even though I've known him for a few years now, I'm still slightly shocked at the sight of his face. He wasn't ugly but the left side of his face was covered in burn scars, which masked his chiselled features. Ageing also hadn't been too kind to him. He was only in his early thirties but his hair was greying and there were wrinkles spattering his face. His cloudy brown eyes slowly fixed on my face and he made a croaking sound.

"Hey, Grey. Don't get too excited, I'm supposed to be torturing you."

He looked so confused and hopeless. How long had he been trapped down here?

"Shea?" he said, struggling to sit up. His arms were trembling as he braced them against the dirty cell floor.

"Yeah, it's me," I said, gently helping him.

He cleared his throat and looked me over "What- what do you want to know?" A fit of coughing racking his malnutritioned frame.

"Where is the Elder Clyde?" I asked. I'd only heard about the Elder Clyde in passing. Grey didn't talk about him very often. Supposedly, him and Grey had rescued some of the hálf-kyn from the raid and they'd raised them to be deadly rebels. And, supposedly, the Elder Clyde was over 5 thousand years old. Still young for a gods standard but pretty impressive for an Elder. They usually die around 1 thousand.

Grey closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him.

"I've told them time and time again, I have no idea where he is," he said weakly, "But they don't believe me. How am I supposed to know? I've been down here for half a year, Clyde could be on the tungl for all I know."

That certainly would be a development. Mortals on the tungl. What would they even do on the moon?

"Okay, how about this, you tell me where you last saw Clyde, and we'll go with that."

He groaned, furrowing his brows.

"I-I think it was in... in a small town just outside Gili in Forma, but if that doesn't work he might have gone to Ffion."

"Thank you," I said, and stood to leave.

"Shea, wait. Please," Grey rasped, weakly reaching out to me. "Please tell me you're not actually with them. After everything...?"