Gritting my teeth, I nod. “Very well.” I take a step forward to follow him. I have no choice, do I? How will I convince the prince and his first knight that I’m compliant, and then free my father and myself, if I speak out? When Devlan stops at the door and reaches inside his uniform to bring out a key ring, I’m reminded of the Force grabbing their V-Batons…clubbing my father over his head…blood pooling on the earth.
They have the apothecary—my father’s friend.
The glass door slides open and Devlan walks outside. Fresh air blasts me, and I fill my lungs, drawing in strength.
I turn and chase after Sebastian.
“Princess!” Devlan shouts.
I hike my gown and run faster to catch up with the prince. I know Mr. Levine is innocent, and whatever the Force has in store for my father’s friend is vile.
When I reach the inner ward, I halt and glance around. My breath comes in pants as I search for the direction the prince went.
A strangled cry sounds from outside the castle.
Dread spikes my blood. The stifled protest transforms into a cry that carries through the entryway. I disregard the curious stares of the servants and head toward the courtyard. I push through the large doors, my limbs quaking and my head light, and stop.
In the middle of the arcade, five members of the Force surround a wooden contraption. Mr. Levine is strapped to the machine’s bench. Above, a beam stretches its length, where blades and hooks dangle inches from his body.
FIVE
A foul sickness rises up from my stomach and coats my throat. The contraption Mr. Levine is secured to rumbles to life as a member of the Force cranks a lever on its side.
Mr. Levine wails as the rafter above him inches forward and a hook stops just above his stomach. A member of the Force grabs the hook. My feet are frozen to the stone. I’m unable to move—my system shocked. The point of the hook pierces his flesh. His sharp cry unhinges me, and I bolt forward.
The sight of blood streaming from Mr. Levine’s side nearly knocks me to the ground, but I force my feet to run toward the knight cranking the lever on the machine. “Stop!”
Another shrill, gurgling cry rips from the apothecary’s throat as the hook rises, bringing with it his entrails.
My head lightens, I’m dizzy, and I slur my next order. “Sh-top!”
Before I reach Mr. Levine, arms circle my waist, and I’m halted. Someone pulls me against their hard chest as I flail my arms. “Zara,” a harsh voice says.
My eyes widen as the knight digs the hook into Mr. Levine’s stomach again. Bile burns my throat and nostrils. I gasp air into my constricted lungs, trying to clear my stinging sinuses. “Make them stop,” I plead, my voice trembling. There’s so much blood.
A hand covers my eyes, and I’m being dragged away. The cool air of the inner ward wraps around me, soothing some of the nausea roiling my stomach.
The fingers digging into my arm loosen their grip, and the hands turn me about. “Have you never seen a live transmission from the king?” Sebastian’s face is flush from the exertion of wrangling me into the castle.
I shake my head, over and over, then stop. The thief. The hanging. But that was damn near humane compared to that torture device. What’s more, I know Mr. Levine. I’ve spent time with him in his shop, and with his daughters. He came to our home. Went fishing with my father. Is Mr. Levine’s torture being transmitted? Is his family watching right now?
Sebastian presses his lips together and his brow furrows. “You cannot interfere with our means of questioning.”
“Questioning?” I snap. Fury ignites, searing my blood. “How is he to tell you anything when his insides are spilling from his body?” I shove against his chest, hard. He doesn’t budge, and I raise my clenched fists to slam them against his stubborn form.
He grabs my wrists and firmly holds me in place. “The Force has already exhausted their simplest means of questioning. He gave nothing up.” He lowers his face toward mine; his warm breath fans my bangs. “This is the next logical step. You must know this.”
Angry, I try to turn away from him, holding back tears. “Did it ever occur to you that mayhap he knows nothing? And to simply end his torment, he’ll now tell you whatever you wish to hear?”
His eyes study my face, and his expression sours. “Come, Zara. You know that isn’t the truth.” His lips twist into a sneer. “After all, it was you who led the Force to him.”
My mouth falls open, and I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. I shove him backward one last time and free myself.
The tapestries along the corridors blur past me as I run, seeking an escape.
I don’t care that I have no plan—that I’m leaving with nothing. I need to be away from here. Now. Only one thing slows my pace.
My father.
What is happening to him in the Oubliette? Is he suffering the same fate from a similar device? When the mad misbehave, do they beat them and torture them back into line? Before I can think better of it, I’m hastening through the atrium, heading for the glass door.
The Oubliette can’t be far from the castle. It’s on the king’s grounds somewhere. Devlan has left the door unlocked, and I launch into the garden area and begin my search. There’s a latticed entrance to a maze past the garden, and the training ground is to my right. Deciding to go straight, I pick up the hem of my gown and run. A fire snakes its way down my throat.
I pass the center fountain and turn in to the entrance of the maze. Stumbling, I look down at what tripped me and nearly retch. A dead bird lies in the grass, its white neck crooked at an odd angle. I back away from it slowly, then head farther into the maze.
The walls of green stretch high above my head, and only the clouds guide my path. Everything else looks the same.
Two openings present themselves. I pause. I’m not sure that the Oubliette is even located here, but for some slightly twisted reason, I feel that it would be. I close my eyes for a moment, and then turn right.
The pathway feels never-ending. My heart races as I run faster, deeper toward the center. My limbs shake with panic and exertion. I reach a dead end and slam my hands into the wall of bushes. I could turn back, but I’ve wasted precious time. Beating down the wall feels right, and I claw at the stems and thorns. Hands latch onto my arms, and I yelp.
“Princess,” Devlan says, his voice deep, calm.
I continue my attack on the bushes. My hands are streaked with red. Devlan tears me away from the wall and turns me around, then pushes my back against the shrubbery.
He breathes deeply through his nose, his lips pressed into a hard line. His eyes scan my face as his chest rises and falls. “Don’t let them break you,” he whispers. “Be made of steel, like the walls that surround you.”
The depth of his pale blue eyes holds me captive. I see fear in them, but I also see strength, honor. His gaze is heated and steady, and something inside me wavers. As their blue intensifies, matching the bright streaks marring the sky, a strange calm settles over me.
When he seems convinced I’m through with my fit, he tentatively releases me. He’s close enough that I feel the heat rolling off his body. The inch of air between us is alive with tension until he slowly takes a step backward.
We stare at one another. Then he glances around the maze, his eyes seeking invisible ears, reminding me that I’m being spied on.
He turns and motions me before him, and we walk back silently. No more words between us.
Cameras are everywhere in Karm. Hidden, so that the old-world feel of the Camelot-esque culture is not lost. As I walk the castle grounds, today’s happenings heavy on my mind, I glance around at the tree branches, trying to spy one of the Eyes.