Page 22 of To Dance with Death

“You can…whatnow?”

I take a breath. “I’ll demonstrate. Just…don’t scream, all right? Don’t make a sound.”

With that, I unwrap my fingers from the bars of the cell, then push.

I slip through the metal as if it were smoke.

I’m in the cell with them both, neither saying a word. They just stare at me, Sundar’s mouth dropped open like a trout.

I use the silence to tell them, quickly, what happened. My encounter with Illian, how I escaped. That Anton has escaped, too.That he is currently residing in Morta’s Lair, alive. That I must find my way there as well—all in a rush of barely strung-together words.

“Vasalie,” Sundar says. “Illian is a manipulative shit. Do you really trust him? This is some kind of trap. It has to be.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But if there’s any hope that I can save Anton, I have to try. Ihaveto, Sundar.”

Sundar scrubs his forehead, pacing a few feet. “I don’t like this at all.”

“She isn’t wrong,” Copelan says. “Without Anton…”

“Anton would want yousafe,” Sundar says. “Why do you think hesacrificedhimself for you? Don’t make it mean nothing.”

“You heard the council, Sundar. If Anton doesn’t appear and confirm our story, it’s over. What other choice do we have?”

At that, he visibly deflates. “I just…I feel like I’m failing him.”

“We only fail if we give up on him. Besides, I have his pendant,” I say, digging it from the neckline of my dress. “It offers some protection, at least against Moranya, no?”

I plan to confront her, perhaps use it to bargain with. If that doesn’t work, perhaps she’ll accept my soul in exchange for his.

But I don’t tell them that.

“You have to go, Vas,” Copelan says. “Sooner rather than later.”

Sundar sighs. “He’s right. If there’s a chance to reach Anton, we must act quickly. Fates know what Moranya wants with him now. Souls, and the prophecy—”

“Damn the prophecy,” I say. “And damn the Fates.” Maybe Moranyaisreal, but if the Fates cared enough to send a message, why not come and help? Why stand idly by?

I’ll always believe in Anton over them.

“You’re starting to sound like a heretic,” Sundar says with a grin.

“I’m going to get you two out before I go. The problem is…I don’t know how. I can only phase myself. But perhaps I can steal a key, maybe some weapons…”

“There are far too many guards throughout this place,” Copelan says. “If we tried to sneak out, we would alert half the castle.”

“Even if we managed it, we’d start an even bigger conflict,” Sundar points out. “If we disappear along with you, your father will claim we’ve kidnapped you. He could retaliate against Razam.”

I look between them, my heart hurting. “Before Illian appeared, I sent word to Sofya. She’ll alert the council. Surely, they won’t stand for this type of treatment, but that could take time. I won’t just…leave you here.”

“Yes, you will,” says Copelan, folding his arms. “The alternative is your father’s victory.”

“He will torture you both,” I say. “I refuse to let that happen—”

“Actually,” Sundar says, his lips tipping upward, “I have an idea. After a bit of torture—just enough to make it believable—I’ll admit that Anton is in the Lair of Morta. It will be the truth, after all. He will assume that means Anton is dead. It will give him a false sense of security.”

I look between them, worry gnawing at every cavity in my mind.

“The faster you go, the faster we’re free,” Sundar says. “And do me a favor, would you? When you see Anton, try, I don’t know, slapping him out of it.”