Dungeon of Torment

18. Fever Dreams

Nailah awoke, forgetting she was paralysed. She tried to roll over and failed. In the grip of a panic attack, she imagined restraints were holding her down. Her breathing became laboured, beads of sweat gleaming on her face and neck as, in a state of half-dream, she envisioned her surroundings. Her feverish mind placed her back in prison in the early days after Brontes arrest...

                  "Give us more names." Her interrogator had demanded. The prosthetic wiring from her mangled arm had sparked and crackled, her stress and fear triggering failed impulses. "We have some already. You worked closely with Ramon Garcia and Taqor Nowy. Ramon Garcia had contacts in customs – that was how your group was able to traffic weapons and other illegal devices into and out of the country."

Nailah had clenched her good arm into a fist. They already knew so much, she'd realised in dismay. "You worked with him for six years. Who were his contacts abroad? Name that part of the chain, enough names and you might even survive all of this."

Nailah's lips had remained tightly clamped in a hard line. They'd shouted at her, raging – spit spraying in her face. Nailah hadn't flinched. Instead, she'd thought about Ramon. She thought about them finding his body in her apartment.

Losing his temper, the interrogator had gripped her by the back of her neck and slammed her face against the desk. "You were able to provide fake identities and documents. Where did you get them from?! Who made them for you? Do you have a contact in the embassy?" She hadn't spoken. "Fucking mute bitch!" He'd roared, backhanding her – his ring slicing her lip.

                   "Nailah?"

Nailah blinked open her eyes and stared groggily at Kronos, the Titan king. She moaned, memories flooding back. She wasn't tied down, she realised in a harsh moment understanding - she was broken. She remembered blowing herself up, she remembered the agonising healing process. "Nailah, can you speak?" Kronos was looking down at her with concern. She remembered the fire.

"Serayah? Where's Serayah?" Nailah asked in a cracked voice. She twisted her head, trying to see more of the room.

"Err..." Kronos seemed lost on who she was speaking about.

"My carer." She clarified.

"You are being cared for. I'll give you your own household. You don't have to worry-"

Nailah shook her head.

"I need Serayah." Serayah with her sweet smile, her fresh face and stiff spiked up hair with the scent of vanilla on her hands. Nailah couldn't lose her too. "Serayah-" Nailah became overwhelmed by a coughing fit.

"I'll send word out to find her, calm down." Kronos urged. A nurse came in to give Nailah some pain relief. "You need to sleep now."

In the hours that followed, Kronos gazed at Nailah's face.

His reverie was broken by Queen Rhea. She stormed into Nailah's private hospital room.

"Kronos." She barked. "You need to make a public statement. To assure the world that you're still living and ruling."

"I am neither." He replied tersely.