Blood & Bone [Book Three of The City of Eternity Series] [✔]

3.26: Anticipation

I watched as Malka exited the room, not stealing a single glance back at any of us. She mirrored Aubrey's earlier exit, slipping through the door on the right side of the room with the same determination her counterpart had. Her hands had grasped the golden handles, a heavy sigh leaving her mouth as she pulled the doors shut with a resounding thud that shook the floor beneath me. As the doors closed with that ominous clash, the guards reacted fluidly, each man drawing their dagger from the sheaths secured at their waist with practised precision. Their blades caught the light of the lanterns placed around the room; some of them were covered in a layer of a brown substance.

I strain against the iron grip on the hands restraining me. Ten long minutes have slipped by in a blur of agony and mounting dread, not only watching Dhana struggle against Malka's power, but the insidious pressure from the metallic gloves, the presence of silver woven deeply into the fabric draining my energy. Every fragment of my strength has been leached away, my limbs struggling to fight against the pain surging from every corner of my body. With laboured breaths, I came to the realisation that any resistance I attempted would be a futile effort.

To distract myself, I fixate my gaze on Thalia, my heart lurching as I see her hunched over, completely absorbed in the candle she is cradling in her hands. The candle that had started in the lantern, warming the aisles with a soft glow, was now emitting a purple light, flickering erratically and dancing in sync with her whispered words. The wick had burned down, reducing the candle to a mere stub, the wax pouring down the side and coating her skin in a golden layer. This did little to wake her from her trance-like state, the concentration only deepening as the wax dripped down her thighs.

Despite the imminent danger posed by the guards, who hover menacingly with their knives dangerously close to her throat, Thalia seems unfazed, steadfast in her chant as if she's enveloped in her world, completely oblivious to the lurking threat above her. The guards, their faces twisted into malicious smiles, seem to relish the tension that hangs heavy in the air. Yet, Thalia remains resolute, her chanting unwavering as she continues to focus on her task at hand.

Thalia's face contorted in anguish as tears streamed down her cheek, illuminated by the purple light. The lines etched on her face showed the immense strain she was forcing herself through, her body trembling uncontrollably, every muscle on view tensed as she fought to maintain her grip on the candle. The flames were moving wildly, casting dark shadows that moved across her face and barely distracted from the sight of her suffering. Her very being seemed to be unravelling, a dark force gripping her soul and squeezing - demanding she hand over every drop of her life.

My heart lurches as I tear my eyes from Thalia, only to catch sight of Dhana, lying several feet ahead of me, her hand outstretched towards me like a silent plea for help despite her unconscious state. A drop of blood was trickling down her face, slowly pooling on the ground beneath her. A surge of frustration wells up inside me, desperate to break free from my constraints and rush to her side, every fibre of my being screaming out in protest as her wounds bleed through her clothing.