Brood of Vipers Maggie Claire (mobi reader .TXT) 📖

deep. No doubt, Alaric wants Ithel to suffer at the doorway, constantly in view of freedom without getting to fully taste it.

Forcing herself to drift lower, Helena’s feet strike the stone walkways lightly as she materializes out of the wind. A reckless plan overpowers reason in her mind. Not allowing herself to think further and back out of her plans, Helena steps forward and opens the heavy dungeon door. The rank air assaults her nose, and Helena drifts back up into the wind, watching for the perfect opportunity to slip inside unseen.

The prison guard sitting at the bottom of the stairs does not miss the sudden fresh breeze wafting into the first level of the dungeon. “Who’s there?” he grumbles, trudging up the steps to secure the prison once more. “Hello?” he calls out, searching the grounds for any signs of life and movement.

Helena wastes no time, dancing on the breeze above the doorway, allowing it to pull her inside the prison. Once she finds herself behind the guard, she pushes all the air she can toward the guard. The sharp gust of wind causes him to stumble out of the prison. Immediately Helena slams the door. I hope my abilities are strong enough to carry us both, Helena worries as she skulks down the line of cells, searching for Ithel. “Where are you, Ithel?” she whispers under her breath in frustration as each passing cell is found empty.

“Helena?” Ithel questions from the last cell on the first level of the prison. “What are you doing here?”

Helena hurries over to his cell, and a strangling sob burns in her throat as she peers inside at her friend. Ithel’s face is bruised on one side, and a cut mars one lip. His left arm is bandaged from wrist to elbow, the poorly applied white gauze already covered with layers of grit and sludge from the filthy prison walls. “Helena, go now while you still can.” Ithel’s words are slurred by pain and medication, his eyes fever bright. “Leave me.”

“I wanted to be sure that the king had kept his word to care for you.” Acknowledging that monster as her father still left a bitter taste in her mouth. “I’m supposed to leave in the morning with a new guard, Ithel.”

“I know…I have a few friends in the guards, and they keep me informed. Your new guard, Andras, is a decent man. He is quiet, but he will protect you well. You could have had much worse.” Ithel coughs, a guttural rasp already forming in his lungs.

“I’m not leaving here without you!” Helena hisses, cursing herself for not coming prepared with a key to unlock this door.

“I’ll only slow you down,” Ithel murmurs, pointing to his arm. “Some of the iron filings are still in this wound, Helena. Alaric’s agreed to send a surgeon to get them out a week or so after you leave.”

Shaking her head, Helena pleads, “Come with me anyway, Ithel.”

“How? I can’t use my magic, Helena. As long as the extra iron is in my arm, I am grounded. There’s no way we can both get out of this prison without our Windwalker abilities, and you can’t carry us both.” Ithel whimpers, sharp pains lancing through his wound, almost as if the metal in his arm bites deeper through the flesh, gnawing toward his bones. “Please, Helena, just go.”

“I—I’m so sorry, Ithel,” Helena sobs, carefully reaching through the bars to touch Ithel’s pallid cheek. “I should never have left you behind all those years ago. I should have begged you to come with me to Cassè. You should have been with me when our—”

“Hush,” Ithel mutters, a sudden chill quaking through his limbs. “Now’s not the time for regrets, love. Just go and be safe. Live well.”

“I will come back here,” Helena vows, her heart breaking as a racking cough causes Ithel to double over. He slumps down to sit on the disgusting straw, leaning his head back on the grimy stone wall. “I’ll do whatever it takes to free you.”

“Helena, you are not that stupid. Find a way to ditch Andras and never look back.” Ithel lowers his head into his hands. “Get to Cassè and rebuild your life there. Forget about me.”

“No. I cannot leave you stuck in this cell. I know too well how it feels to be caged.” Helena’s eyes cannot focus on anything but the bars. Tightness in her chest blooms at the memories, all the days she had spent lost to madness in these cells. “I will find a way to—”

The door above the stairs bangs open as a furious guard stumbles inside. His chest heaves with effort, his eyes gleaming with berserk madness. “You! Oh, how I hoped you would do something this foolish! That it would be on my watch so I could deal with you. So that I could finally make you suffer!”

“You fell for that open door trick, but I am the fool?” Helena spits on the shoes of the guard, sneering as she recognizes the man’s face. While she never learned his name, she remembered him from her days in the cells. He’d never laid a hand on her, but there were worse punishments than a physical blow for a captive soul; this guard had taught her that lesson all too well. Hackles rising, Helena tenses her muscles, preparing for a fight as she declares, “I picked your watch because I knew you would fall for such an obvious trick. Isn’t that why you are here, guarding the traitor’s prison? Alaric can’t trust you with an assignment that requires actual thought.”

The guard smiles, either unaware of the fact that Helena has insulted him or too lost in his own lewd thoughts to care. “I dream of you, Helena, did you know? I dream that I did more than just piss in your cell when I had the chance. I still fantasize about watching your monthly sponge baths and touching you when you’d fall asleep too close