Heart of Flame

《8》

Aelin

Aelin's eyes opened from a deep sleep. Something had awoken her. A subtle change in the tiny bit of magic she possessed within the iron coffin. Her back felt like it was on fire. The realization that she was still trapped in the god's damned coffin, reached Aelins attention away from the agonizing pain of her back, to the utter darkness around her.

Her breath came too quick and she heart beat with such force that it seemed to echo in the small space. Aelin tried to brace herself for the coffins' lid to be pulled off and hands reaching her out into the open air. But nothing happened.

Instead, the coffin was jerked up, like it was being moved.

We must have arrived Aelin thought, but they couldn't have, at least not yet. She had assumed that they would sail for Wendlyn. Aelin had no idea how long she had been sleeping but she knew that she could not have been out for more than a week. She would know if it was longer, wouldn't she?

The coffin jerked again this time it tilted downwards. They must be getting off the ship.

It took what felt like hours to get to whatever destination they were going to, the coffin swayed continuously as whoever carried the coffin walked. Which made Aelin wounds scream in agony as the base shifted beneath her back. Her head was dizzy, beaded with sweat and fever.

Aelin tried to focus on something, anything. But the darkness was absolute, there was no light any detail.

Finally, Aelins prison stopped its swaying and was set roughly on the ground. The lid finally moved, cracks of light streamed in and then there was no darkness. Sunlight hot and bright greeted Aelin. The light seared  her eyes through her closed lids. Such a change from the darkness.

 Aelin had barely recovered from the blinding light when rough hands- not magic- wrenched her from the coffin and pulled her to her feet on sand and gravel. Suddenly the hands let go and she swayed on her feet before stumbling and falling to her knees.

'Ah the mighty queen,' a silken voice mocked her. Aelin raised her eyes, she saw Maeve and the other fae, all staring at her. Some stood stone-faced while others showed hints of amusement. 'Stand up.' Maeve commanded, Aelin struggled to her feet, her eyes stayed fixed on the dark queen. 'Now, you are going to do what I say, when I say it,' Maeve said, 'otherwise, Cairn shall have his fun,' Aelins only response was the slight flicker of her eyes towards Cairn next to Maeve. His face held a feral delight. As is daring her to slip up.

'I will remove the mask, but should you try anything,' she looked to Cairn, 'I will give you to Cairn,' her smile was pure evil as she waved her hand and the mask disappeared from Aelin's face. 

Aelin gasped as the humid air touched her face, it felt raw and burnt from contact with the iron mask. 

'Walk,' Maeve commanded. So Aelin walked across the graveled ground, iron chains clinking, her upper body bare.

They walked for what seemed like ages. At first, it was across a small beach, but the landscape changed to trees and forests and finally to hills. Where Aelin could just make out a large building.