World of Ashes

Chapter Seven

Fenrys trailed his Queen through the hallways of her mountain fortress to the dungeons, keeping an eye on Cairn, walking two steps in front of him. The hulking warrior carried his whip curled around his belt, next to the two daggers strapped to his thighs. Wicked sharp. Meant for torture. 

He was afraid who they were meant for. And why Maeve had called him with her. 

They rounded a corner and Maeve stopped before an iron cell door. With a snap of her fingers, it was opened. 

Fenrys sucked in a breath as he saw who occupied it. The Queen of Terrasen hung, chained in irons, from the ceiling. Manacles clamped to her wrists and feet and neck, and her body was a crisscross of iron chainlinks, wrapped around her torso and legs. That hideous mask was still strapped to her face. 

Her back was to them, displaying her whiplashes. The blood was still trickling, staining her pants a dark red color. Her head was hanging, supported by the iron around her neck. She was still unconscious. 

Fenrys closed his eyes briefly, blocking all thoughts save how to help Aelin and her court. He'd left signs, hoping Rowan would find them. When he looked up again, Maeve had moved, and Cairn was busy unstrapping her mask. 

Aelin stayed still, eyes shut. 

Fenrys breathed in a sigh of relief at her lack of response. Maybe Maeve would let her be, just for today. 

But Cairn snatched up one of his knives and nicked her cheek with it, deep. She jerked her head up, mouth curving in a snarl, when Maeve stepped forward. "Where are the keys, Fire-Bringer?"

Aelin didn't reply. 

"Where are the keys, Aelin?" 

Aelin closed her eyes again, fists clenching. "I wouldn't waste your voice, Your Majesty." 

Maeve took a step forward. "Tell me where the keys are, Aelin Galathynius."

The Heir of Mala simply shook her head, a silent tear streaking down her face. "I do not have them, Aunt. And you were too caught up in capturing me and proving how you'd won that you didn't even bother to check."

Fenrys closed his eyes. No. No. How could he have missed it? But now, as he replayed the scene on the beach, he saw it. When Aelin had moved to step closer to Maeve, she'd bumped her shoulder with Manon's, slipping the witch the keys. And Aelin was right. Maeve had been so preoccupied that she hadn't checked to make sure that Aelin still had them. So, in a way, Aelin had won.

When he opened his eyes again, Cairn was unlatching Aelin's irons, placing the mask back on her face, and leading her out the door.

Fenrys just stood there, slowly taking in what Aelin had done.

"Come, Fenrys." Maeve was looking at him.

Fenrys raised his eyes to the Dark Queen, and followed her prisoner through the halls to the Throne Room, where Aelin was shoved onto her knees again in front of her Aunt.

"Undress her, Fenrys."

Fenrys felt his body respond to the command, his feet walking forward, hands reaching down to pull off her shirt, exposing her raw back.

"Count, Aelin."

The Queen of Fire closed her eyes, and squared her shoulders. 

Cairn raised the whip.

"Very well, niece." Maeve nodded to her guards. They knelt down and gripped her arms, holding her in place.

Crack.