Shadowed

XVIII. Breathe

The screams are so much louder from out here. The moment I'm out of Angella's cell, I can barely hear myself think, much less pick out Abby's voice from the tangled cacophony around me.

I don't know which way to go. Both directions look the same, an endless stretch of cells and dull grey stone fading to a point of black faraway.

And the screaming. Loneliness and fear incarnate echo through the halls, through my head, down to my bones. Some voices are high and long and piercing, others low, defeated sobs. 

On and on and on. The silence between them never lasts longer than a few moments, and then the agonized chorus starts up again.

I look down, and realize my hands are shaking. My breathing is fast and heavy. Too much air floods through me.

Breathe. 

It doesn't work. My racing heart refuses to slow, and every breath I take feels more like a panicked gasp. Like I'm drowning in a room filled with air.

Breathe.

I focus on filling my lungs, but the air won't come. It's like it's being withheld from me. And the rational voice in the back of my mind whispers that it doesn't matter, that air is only a necessity for those who are mortal. Those who have death waiting for them, somewhere ahead. Not me.

But knowing that doesn't change my panic, my screaming lungs.

Breathe!

I can't get any air.

I'm trying.

Please.

I'm trying.

I gulp mouthfuls of air and clap my hands over my ears. It muffles the screams, but only barely.

It's not enough. I scramble towards Angella's open door in front of me, forcing myself through what little space there is between the slab of stone and the wall. Tears are streaking down my cheeks.

"Come with me. Please."

I'm startled by how desperate, how shaky my own voice sounds.

She raises her head. Her ice-colored eyes are rimmed with red.

A pause. A moment of utter silence. Even the screaming stops. Like the whole world is taking a breath.

But then another one rips through the air. I must have only imagined it.

Angella nods, just a tiny tip of her head, and then stands, her outstretched fingers skimming across the wall for support. I follow her out the cell door. 

I expect it this time, but the amplified screaming still sends a jolt of fear right through me. I tense. Breathe.

So does Angella. Hers is slight, but it's there, a catch in her breathing, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes growing wider.

"So, who are we looking for?" she asks in a small voice. I can hear the strain in her words. She's hiding it, but she's just as terrified as I am. Maybe more.

"I need to find Drew and Abby," I say, and the thoughts I've been pushing aside this whole time force their way to the front of my head. Abby, terrified and alone in a foreign place. Drew, locked in a cell and not knowing his sister's or anyone's fate.

My voice is flat when I speak next, no reflection of my pain. "It's my fault they're even here. I should have kept them out of this."

"Rowan, don't," Angella says suddenly, and I feel a firm hand grabbing my wrist.