The soothing, dripping sound of rain reached my ears. Yet I could not open my eyes. My mind drifted through the endless vastness of nothingness. I was not dreaming, and I was not able to think of anything at all.
At some point I felt a burning pain in my arms and legs. At first it was only faint. With time it became almost unbearable, and the sensation of ants crawling over my skin joined it. At the same time my limbs felt numb, as if they no longer belonged to me. A very contradictory feeling.
All of these sensations forced my weary body to open its eyelids and pull my mind back.
Unlike last time, it was no longer dark. My eyes needed a moment to adjust to the faint light that was being cast into the room.
It was difficult for me to move even my head, so I looked around without turning it. To my surprise, the room seemed to be made entirely of iron. The floor, the walls and even the ceiling. On top of that there was the dark gray color, which had a deeply depressing effect on me and pulled my already dark mood even further down.
Soon after, dull footsteps could be heard from outside the room, as well as faint murmuring. A scraping sound followed as the lock of the door was unfastened.
For a brief instant. A truly, truly brief instant, hope stirred within me. I asked myself, what if someone comes through that door now who will take you out of here?
But it was a terribly foolish thought. I realized that immediately when the door opened and someone I did not know entered in an earthy green uniform. Close behind him, two more uniformed guards took their place in the doorway with raised weapons.
Strangely enough, although I was fully aware of my situation, I did not feel the slightest fear. Even my heart continued to beat in a comparatively calm rhythm. I suppose I was simply far too exhausted to react to anything at all. The little bit of sleep from earlier could not change much about that.
As it turned out, the guards had entered the cell to supply me with water. The only time of day when the cloth was removed from my face.
How might Lucian, Val and my father be doing? Lucian was probably going about his duties as a knight at the palace as usual. I wondered whether Val had told him that I was on the run. And I sincerely hoped she had not. That would have put him in a difficult position. I also hoped that Val had not gotten into trouble and that no one had noticed that she was helping us. Hopefully she, too, could continue her life as usual. Was my father all right? And then there was still the matter of Artur…
I quickly shook my head so I would not have to think about it. But a metallic sound echoed as my bound hands began to tremble for a short moment.
The days that followed all blurred into one another. I was not sure how long I had been sitting motionless in the cell. Some of my memories from that time were missing as well.
I constantly drifted between a kind of dreamless sleep and a few brief waking moments. I was often confused, though not always. It was not even certain whether I had actually slept at all or whether I had simply lost consciousness because my body remained immobile for too long.
Being untied from time to time for some rudimentary care did not change much. Every single time I could not stand up without help, I nearly collapsed again, and even when I managed to move, I barely perceived anything. It felt as if someone had placed a cushion between me and the world. Every sound was muffled and my field of vision was blurred. On top of that everything kept spinning without pause.
Sometimes a sudden tug on my restraints snapped me back to the present, sometimes the dull, pulling pain in my back, or when my arms and legs began to tingle unbearably.
I hardly took in any food at all, even though there was stale bread once a day.
From the second day onward I tried to speak to the guards in order to get more information. How long would I still be here? What would happen to me now? And the others? What about them?
But not a single one of my questions was answered. The guards did not even acknowledge me.
In the moments when I was at least somewhat awake, a gnawing also crept into my mind that was far worse than any pain. What if Marcy and Kiyan had been caught as well? Because I could not keep my mouth shut… Damn it, I was stupid.
Just the thought of the two of them, crouched in the same cold, lonely darkness as I was, made my stomach clench as if I had swallowed rusted iron.
No, I could not think about that. It was not certain whether they had been found, and even if… perhaps they had managed to escape. Who knew. I had to believe that. They were surely long gone by now. Anything was better than the thought that I had sent them to their deaths.
Suddenly a drop fell onto the gray floor I had been staring at for hours with a soft, splashing sound. It had been so quiet that the noise made me flinch, which caused the iron to rattle. At first I thought it might be rainwater that had somehow found its way into the inside of this cell. But then I felt warmth on my cheek.
All at once I heard dull footsteps and voices outside the door. I strained my ears.
Unlike the past few days, the steps no longer sounded like single ones, but rather like a loud drumming, as if a larger group was approaching the cell.
My breathing quickened and I lifted my heavy head to listen. It sounded like several voices. By now I recognized many of the guards' voices, but among them were some that meant nothing to me. Through the closed iron door it was impossible to tell what exactly they were talking about.
Then it grew quieter again. The steps and the voices seemed to move on and grew fainter until they could only be heard in the distance.
Wearily I slumped back in on myself.
Even so, in that point my mind was clearer than it had been over the past days. But to be honest, that was almost worse than being dazed or closing my eyes again. Who were those strangers whose voices I had just heard? A larger group could not mean anything good.
Some time later the echoing footsteps returned. At the bottom of the door a narrow gap cast the light of the corridor into the room. Several shadows moved within it and then seemed to stop directly in front of the door. My heart pounded up into my throat when the scraping of the lock sounded. My exhaustion vanished faster than I could blink.
Since my arrival only a few guards had ever entered. They never came alone, but always in groups of three or four, yet this time far more shadows were clearly outlined in the light.
I felt sweat break out on my forehead. Who were these people and what did they want?
Then the door swung open with a piercing screech. Harsh light burned into my eyes, which had grown used to the darkness, forcing me to squeeze them shut for a moment. While I blinked against the light through tears, several silhouettes stepped inside. Little by little a clear image formed before me.
My restraints clinked as I recoiled instinctively. It felt as if someone had tightened a hand around my throat.
"So we meet again, Flame Hunter," a rough, deep voice said.
But the words barely reached my mind. Spellbound, I stared at the familiar features of the person standing beside Jarek, who had just spoken to me.
That could not be true, could it…?
There he was. Just like that. The golden blond hair that fell into his face at the front. Eyes as blue and gentle as the sea. The cloth band he wore over his ears, the broad shoulders and the upright, serious posture. Usually he always wore that faint, sunlit smile, and with his friendly presence alone he had managed to lift the heaviness from the world. But on that day, in that exact moment, every bit of color had drained from his face. His eyes were wide, fixed on me.
I held my breath. Without thinking, a name slipped past my dust dry lips beneath the muffling cloth:
"Lucian…?"
Are you stupid, Nova? Why are you saying his name?
No, no… That could not be real. Why of all people was he here? Was my mind playing tricks on me? Had I wished so desperately for someone to help me that I was already imagining seeing Lucian?
Please do not be real.
A tremor ran through him as he clenched his fists. A hard tension settled over his expression, but for the briefest heartbeat sheer horror flickered in his eyes before he suppressed it and shook his head.
"You know each other?" Jarek asked in a sharp tone and cast Lucian a sideways glance.
Lucian was still staring at me and hesitated to answer. But his fists were trembling. Behind him and Jarek stood more people who were strangers to me. Among them were also several members of the city guard. But on one woman the crest was different. Was she someone important? And… was I mistaken or were there Drakanians and an Arcanist among them? What was going on here? Immigration practically did not exist, and even toward visitors Grania was anything but welcoming.
The many gazes resting on me made every single muscle I was still able to move tense up inside me.
In shame I lowered my head. Mostly because I had let something slip and maneuvered Lucian into a difficult situation because of it. But also because I did not want anyone to see me like this. Least of all Lucian.
"Y-yes…," I heard Lucian reply, "But this has to be a mistake! She is not the Flame Hunter!"
"Wait outside, Captain Fenn. We will continue the handover later," Jarek ordered in a composed voice. At once footsteps echoed across the iron floor. A few clearly moved away, while heavier ones clattered across the ground in my direction. Without lifting my head, I directed my eyes forward. With my current field of vision I could only see their feet, but I counted six of them.
Then a dull, metallic bang rang through the room as the iron door fell shut behind them.
Now Jarek spoke again, his voice noticeably tense:
"With Kiyan I largely turned a blind eye because he already has a connection to the palace. But in this case I do not consider it wise. Let us not give Aurel more openings for attack than necessary. It is better that you leave this entire matter to me."
I jerked my head up so abruptly that the iron at my wrists clattered. Nausea rose in me. He was here? Then that meant… Oh no. What had I done?
"What?! No!" Lucian cried out at once and spun around toward Jarek in a flash. Lucian's fists were trembling and his breathing was audibly uneven.
Then he added with a bitter undertone:
"And as if the dutiful city guards will not say anything. Not to mention Aurel's three watchdogs."
He glanced at the three strangers in the background, letting out a brief snort.
One of the Drakanians, the woman, spoke calmly as she looked at Jarek, shrugged and lifted her hands slightly:
"Your leader may pay us, but I saw the red hair. You are a Leonis, are you not? And for whatever reason you dye your hair. Your kind is usually so proud of their heritage."
Jarek cast her a noncommittal look and remained silent. But his eyes narrowed.
"Haha, well yes. We definitely will not pick a fight with them," she laughed, folded her arms behind her back and took a step away.
"Leave them to me," Jarek said curtly to Lucian.
Lucian shot Jarek an angry look for a brief moment, then turned and walked toward me.
I avoided meeting his eyes while my pulse raced so wildly that I thought I might faint at any moment. On top of that, the thought that I had exposed Kiyan and Marcy to the same danger made my stomach cramp painfully. Still, I forced myself to stay calm and focused on steady breathing. In. And out. And in again. Everything was fine.
Jarek shouted:
"Do not get so close, you fool!"
Just before Lucian reached me, he turned his head over his shoulder and replied:
"There is no danger."
"We already had that discussion," Jarek hissed and gave the Arcanist a signal. The Arcanist nodded and hardened his features as he fixed me with extreme vigilance. One hand raised, outstretched and aimed at me. It looked as if he were ready to unleash a devastating spell.
Jarek himself kept one hand resting on his weapon.
Going down on one knee in front of me, Lucian began fumbling with the cloth over my face.
"Lucian, stop that!" I heard Jarek shout. But since Lucian blocked my view, I could not see anyone else. I lowered my eyes while my cheeks burned, so I would not accidentally meet Lucian's gaze.
He ignored Jarek and whispered instead, his jaw tense:
"I am so sorry, there is not more I can do at the moment. I know this is surely just a stupid mix-up. If you had magical powers, I would probably know. Aurel seems to need you alive, so at least for now you should be safe."
Lucian pulled the cloth from my face and let it fall loosely around my neck. As he did so, his fingers brushed my cheek. Where he touched me, a brief burning sensation flared on my skin. The fingernail that must have grazed me had felt strangely sharp and angular.
But something else distracted me from that thought.
Should I seize the chance and focus on my magic? No, I could not do that to Lucian. And even if I had been able to bring myself to try, I would not even know how far I could have gotten. Certainly not on my own.
Besides, they had an Arcanist on their side. He could overwrite my magic or even claim it for himself. Since he surely had far more experience, the risk was simply too great.
"No, you do not understand…" I rasped.
"One wrong move and that is the end of you, do you understand?" I heard Jarek threaten in an utterly cold tone. "That Aurel would have preferred you alive will make no difference to me."
Lucian jumped to his feet and turned toward him, which allowed me to see Jarek and the others again.
"Jarek. She has no magical powers and she would never hurt anyone. I swear it," Lucian snapped at him. His voice nearly broke.
Every single word that left his mouth in that instant pressed down on me with an invisible weight and stole the breath from my lungs.
Jarek replied calmly, but beneath the surface of his voice something vibrated that seemed more dangerous than anger:
"I saw it with my own eyes. Who do you think inflicted these wounds on me? She clearly possesses some kind of fire magic. A previously unknown one, most likely."
He pulled back his sleeves and pointed at his bandaged forearms.
When I saw the bandages, my heart sank. I knew that I had injured him back then during our fight. Still, it was something entirely different to see the suffering I had caused than to know about it without being confronted with it directly.
"N-no, I do not believe that. You must be mistakin-," Lucian stammered hastily.
"It is true," I heard myself interject in a frighteningly clear voice.
Lucian froze as if turned to ice while Jarek and the three strangers shifted their attention to me. I saw his hands tremble again. His face was turned away, as if he could no longer even look at me.
To me, his reaction felt like a blow to the face. I was so endlessly sorry…
For three breaths I paused, then I continued:
"I inflicted those wounds."
There was no escape anymore anyway. At the very least, I should use what little I still had to make sure Lucian did not get himself into even greater trouble.
"There you have it. And now wait outside," Jarek ordered and stepped forward swiftly.
Both Lucian and I stared at his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A cold shiver ran through me at that sight.
Jarek's hand tightened around the grip while his deep, dark eyes remained fixed on Lucian.
"W-what? No! Absolutely not! What do you think you are doing?" Lucian protested in a raised voice. With a quick sidestep he moved in front of me without looking back even once.
"It is all right…" I whispered. I could not manage more than that before my faltering voice failed me again.
Lucian now looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He was probably biting down on his teeth, because I could see his cheekbones tighten visibly.
Jarek said with cool sharpness:
"I can force you to leave as well, Lucian."
Just go already!
I craned my neck to peek past Lucian. The two Drakanians had stepped forward and raised their fists. Jarek and the Arcanist remained hidden behind Lucian.
Please, Lucian! They mean it!
"And you will not lay a hand on her?" Lucian asked hesitantly. He avoided looking Jarek in the face. He seemed so torn to me. It was simply dreadful.
"That depends on her. If she poses a threat, I will show no mercy. As long as she remains cooperative, she has nothing to fear," Jarek said.
Lucian hesitated.
So Jarek added in a tone so sharp it cut like the sword he had drawn:
"I will not say this again. You must think of your family. The less you have to do with the Flame Hunter, the better."
Lucian drew a sharp breath and held it for a few heartbeats. The knuckles of his clenched fists stood out white.
Why was Jarek bringing Lucian's family into this now? Because a connection to me could cast a bad light on him? Or was there another reason?
I had known Lucian long enough to know that he was boiling inside. His inner conflict broke my heart all over again. That was never what I had wanted. I never wanted him to be dragged into something like this. I wanted none of this. All I had originally wanted was to help Marcy. I was ashamed of the thought, but in that moment I wondered whether it might have been better not to help Marcy. Not for my sake, but for everyone else's. Their lives would have gone on almost as usual if I had not set all of this in motion. If only I had… No. I was not allowed to think that way. Marcy had grown dear to my heart as well.
Then he let out an audible breath, turned his face further away from me and murmured:
"I am sorry, Nova."
With those words he trudged toward the door. Jarek's followers stepped aside to let him pass. Always with a watchful eye on him and ready to fight at any instant.
Hardly had the door fallen shut when Jarek calmly approached me and stopped two steps in front of me.
"Do not even think about causing trouble. We have more than enough countermeasures to contain your fire. You are inexperienced in the use of magic, are you not?" he began.
Briefly, I lifted my head to meet his rigid gaze. His eyes seemed so cold that a shiver already ran through me. His stare practically pierced straight through me, so I looked aside while biting down on my teeth so hard that an unpleasant pressure formed in my ear.
I heard Jarek sigh:
"Good. There are other ways to make you talk."
A metallic scraping sounded as he drew the blade from its sheath. Something cold pressed against my chin, applying upward pressure and forcing me to look at him. My breathing quickened as the cold steel against my skin almost began to burn.
His relentless expression left me no room to evade. Then he growled:
"You are going to answer a few questions for me now."