Bridging the Ancient ✓

Chapter 5

I wake with a gasp, blood running cold as I take in my surroundings. The cell, Renit's warm breath, and the quiet world outside. He's still sleeping, back pressed against the wall. I happened to lie down, using my own arm as a pillow, and managed to sleep for however long I was out. A while, considering how much colder it is down here than it was before.

I shiver against the wall of the dark, underground dungeons. The cell across from us is empty and part of the wall is caved from where the stone and dirt collapsed together—hopefully not onto a body. The other cell, one much larger than this one, holds remnants of blood stains and what appears to be a head in the corner, now nothing more than bone.

That won't be us, we will not die in this cell. Bren will not allow it.

Hope is shredding much faster than I thought it would, there's not enough of it to go around and I've been wasting most of what I have left on Renit. Promising that he will make it out alive is one thing I've done too many times to count.

I press my hand against his forehead, his fever has gone down but infection still lingers. That gives him a few extra hours but not enough before the healer will have to come back in here and solve the rest of our problems—if he doesn't kick Renit again, of course. I'll be ready next time, I'll move before Bren can touch me.

The prince doesn't stir in his dreams so I move to the bars, picking up the small tray of food that someone had put in here. More bread and cheese and a clean flask of water. Just the sight alone ruins my appetite before I've taken a bite. I half everything, leaving the rest for Renit when he wakes.

Just as I'm about to take a bite and force myself to swallow the dry contents of the bread, a candle flickers down the stairs. At least I think it's a candle but instead, Bren holds a small bit of flame in his palm as he shuffles over to the cell—kicking straw underneath his leather boots.

"Do you need anything else?" He asks. Sitting against the back wall of the cell, I pick at the bread and force myself to look at him. Seeing him still doesn't seem real. Like he's a ghost instead of the witch I've grown to know. "I can try to find some extra food for you—we roasted some rabbits we trapped."

I shake my head, although my mouth waters at the thought. Rabbit sounds much better than stale bread and cheese that has been sitting out for too long to be considered worthy of eating. "The only thing I need is an escape out of here. Can you get me that?" I ask blandly.

"You know I can't. We have a plan and with this short window, we can't waste our chances." He scratches at the back of his head, ruffling the shaggy orange hair, and I remember all of the fights we used to have when I kept touching that mop on his head when he clearly didn't want me to. Bren was the one that taught me how to stand up for myself, how to defend myself with a punch. I could see using that now, on the witch that imparted his wisdom to me.

I place the bread in my lap, no longer hungry. "Why?" I ask angrily. "Why do this? Why didn't you stay in Arego where the rest of the people needed you?"

"There was nothing left. I went back there to find out if they had taken you, I searched for anyone and found nothing. They killed what was left and didn't bother picking up the pieces. I had no choice but to join a cause so I could find out what happened to you."

I snort. "You didn't have to join the rebellion against the crown. The capital was only so far away and with the right contact, you could have found me that way. I thought you were dead and instead you were here, waiting for us like attack dogs. And you don't even have the decency to heal him all the way." I point a strong finger at Renit and Bren stares at him like the prince is worth nothing. Becoming the rebel he always whispered about, hate against the crown, has changed Bren. He stares at the witch I care about with death in his eyes.