Silence.
"Heva." It's the healer's sharp voice in his own tongue.
"The warden knows she's here," Alani repeats. Her feet move quickly across the stone floor as she hurries over and pulls the blanket back from my face.
Alani looks petrified, her blue eyes wide and fearful.
"Mira you need to leave," she says.
I don't move. "What?"
Alani tugs at my hands, trying to pull me from the table. My right arm burns and tears leapt to my eyes. I sit up and my muscles tingle as the blood rushes back to places I'd let fall numb.
"Get up. He's coming," Alani says. She presses a thick, velvet cloak of the deepest forest green into my lap. It's lined in soft white fur with a diamond-ringed gold clasp stitched just below the neck. I rub my fingers along the fabric instinctively. It's beautiful.
"Wear this. You'll look like a noble. Keep the hood up. The guards don't pay attention to faces. I'll take you to the dungeon. You can escape there." Alani opens a cabinet and takes down a vial of medicine. She stuffs it into a small purse cut from the same cloth as the cloak.
"Gregor, go and make ready the rope," Alani says to him. She reaches into another cabinet and snatches a wad of fresh bandages, adding them to the purse.
The healer stares at her. He seems to be calculating something in his mind, and I'm wondering if it's whether or not I'm worth saving.
Sighing heavily, he removes the healer's coat and hangs it on a peg by the door opposite the prison. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, his fingers clawed around the brass ball.
"Please, Gregor," Alani says quietly. Tears well at the corners of her eyes. They sparkle and glisten in the torchlight.
The healer doesn't look back. He simply twists the knob and slips through the gap between the door and the jamb, pulling the door closed behind him. A key sounds in the lock, followed by the deadbolt slamming home, and then...nothing.
I have enough time for a quick breath before I hear it. Footsteps.
I slide off the table and my legs buckle beneath me. I have to keep a hand pressed to the scarred wooden surface to keep from falling.
"Put it on, put it on," Alani says. She tries to pull the cloak around my shoulders, but her hands are shaking too much for her to be of any real help.
I still feel dazed as I fumble to fit the heavy cloak around my body. I watch Alani bunch her skirts in her hands as I snap the cloak's clasp shut around my neck.
"How am I supposed to escape through the dungeon?" I ask.
Alani places her ear against the door leading to the prison cells. From behind the other door, we can hear the metallic clang of the guards' footsteps. They're getting closer.
The blood rushes through my heart. I feel on the verge of running. Through the door beyond Alani is freedom. No one knows I'm alive. I can run and run and never come back. But behind me, is the warden. And once he sees me, I know it won't be enough for me to simply die again. He'll do something awful to make me pay for what I've done.
It would be a long time before the warden let me die.
"Alani, please." I hate how I'm mirroring her begging tone with the healer, but I'm about ready to push her aside and run for it. I can't go through whatever the warden will make me do, I can't. It'll break me, and I'm not strong enough.
"Gregor will be at the top of the skylight. He'll send down a rope. Climb the rope, and then you're free," Alani says. She still has her cheek stuck tight to the wood grain of the door.
"Alani—" There's a heavy sound of someone falling outside and the words die on my tongue. In the sudden quiet, we hear the same thing: the turning of the door's knob.
Alani briefly closes her eyes, but her face is calm, as if she's been preparing herself for this moment.
The warden is still fiddling with the locked door. There's an awful twisting of metal as the warden grinds the knob right and then left.
"Leave," Alani says, her voice is strong with the order. But I don't get the chance.
The door to the healer's room crashes open, the warden coming through an explosion of splinters, an axe-wielding guard stepping out of his way.
The warden takes one quick, sweeping glace of the room, before advancing on Alani and closing a hand around her neck.
I scream as the warden picks her up, pinning her against the wall. His shadowed cloak billows around Alani's scrabbling, slippered feet.
Torchlight flickers across the warden's face, making him look like one of the broken stone gargoyles glaring out from the top of the prison walls.
"Hello, Thief," the warden says coldly. "It was such a surprise when I learned that you were down here, recovering from your poor, unfortunate injury. But imagine my delight when I thought of the gift you gave me by still being alive. What a show we'll have. The Return of the Thief!" The warden swipes a hand before him in an arc, as if visualizing the banner.
"It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" the warden asks.
The phantom toll of the death bell sounds in my ears. I raise my palms to cover them, but the sound is inside my head.
Alani gasps against the warden's hand. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are watering, but the warden only tightens his grip.
"Let her go," I grind out. Alani's eyes lock on mine. They're pleading, but I ignore it. I'm not going to let the warden kill her.
"Shh. I'll protect you." Alani's whispered words flood my mind. "I'll protect you."
The warden tilts his head. "Or what?" he asks me. "You have no weapons, you have nowhere to go. I've already stationed my guards at the entrance, they'll kill you the moment they see you."
My hands curl into fists, and the warden barks a laugh.
"You're full of infection Thief, and you haven't been training for nearly a week. There's nothing you can do with those." The warden nods at my fists.
I grit my teeth. I can do a whole shadowmare more than he thinks with these two hands. "Let her go," I say again.
Alani tries to catch my glance and I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She jerks her head toward the door, willing me to run, but where can I go with an axe-wielding guard ready to cut me down before I even take my first step?
The warden's face hardens, making him look even more like one of the marble gargoyle faces in the hall. "No," he says, "I don't think I will."
Alani's head wobbles on her neck, and the silver circlet clatters to the floor.
"Pick that up," the warden growls. His ink black eyes are trained on me, watching my every move.
Alani's eyelids flutter. She's losing oxygen fast.
"Pick. That. Up," the warden says to me, punctuating each word.
"Don't," Alani rasps.
The warden turns to her, his eyes flashing.
"What did you just say?" he grinds out.
"Don't," Alani says, looking at me.
The warden blinks.
Alani raises her chin, her veins throbbing against the warden's palm. Her toes search for the floor, and looking at her, it's the first time I've realized she's taller than the warden.
Alani opens her mouth, but before she can speak, the warden slaps her. Her head falls against the wall, her cheek blooming red.
The warden snarls. "You spawn of the—"
And that's when I strike.
I leap forward and throw my full weight into the warden. His head cracks against the stone wall.
Alani falls to the ground, gasping for breath. I turn to the other guard and duck just as he swings his axe. I swipe a scalpel from the counter and jam it into the guard's chest. It's not a death blow, but it's enough to get him to drop his axe. He stumbles against the wall, his hand pressed to the bleeding wound. The scalpel shakes between his fingers with each beat of his heart.
More footsteps clatter outside in the hall and I hiss through my teeth. I won't be able to fight the entire Guard by myself.
A moan escapes the warden's lips as he comes to against the base of the wall. I try to advance on him, but my lungs burn and my legs buckle. I sink to the floor, my hands too far to reach the warden.
No, I think, tears slipping over my cheeks. Don't let me die like this.
Alani crawls across the floor to the warden. Her face is twisted and ugly in a way I've never seen before. I watch her take hold of the silver circlet, and I watch her pin the metal thorns to the warden's neck.
"You are a monster," Alani growls. And before I can stop her, she drags the thorns against the warden's skin. Red blood spurts from his neck, staining Alani's pale cheeks.
I stare, my mouth hanging open.
"Run, Mira," Alani says calmly.
There are too many sounds. Lights flash. I'm numb. I can't move.
"Mira, run. To the dungeon," Alani repeats, though my ears are muffled.
"What?"
Alani grabs me beneath my arms and sets me on my feet. She leans in close. I can smell the iron of her husband's blood.
"Run," Alani says. "Run, and don't ever come back."
The hard boots of the guard pound against the hall's stone floor. That sound, more than anything else, cuts through to me.
I have to leave. I have to leave now. "Okay," I say, nodding. With adrenaline dulling my pain, I put one foot in front of the other, numbly feeling for the floor. My hand slips against the door's handle, and my thoughts fragment as I find myself outside in the hall, unsure of how I managed to open the door.
It's damp and cool beyond the healer's room. The stone walls I've walked past so many times before look strange and unfamiliar.
I hear the Guard clatter into the healer's room behind me. I hide in the shadows against the wall and peer inside.
Through the open door, I can see the warden, lying dead on the ground. Above him stands Alani. Her hand is clasped around the silver crown of thorns. As the guards stutter to a stop, I watch Alani throw herself over the warden's body.
"He's dead," she moans, real emotion thickening her words.
"Your grace," one guard says. "How?"
Alani hesitates, but so briefly, I think I'm the only one who catches it.
"The healer," Alani says. I can see her throat bobbing beneath the torn lace collar of her gown.
The guard's eyes widen. "Your grace—"
"Warden," Alani says, cutting through his words. She's still clutching the circlet. She slowly places it atop her head, her husband's blood dripping through her blonde hair.
"I'm the warden now."