Sorceress of Illaria

Chapter 1

Ashton

Ashton sat up and squeezed his hands over his ears. Head throbbing, mouth dry, surrounded by darkness. Where am I? Pressing his palms to his eyes, he tried to clear his vision. It was still dark. From somewhere in the distance came the sound of dripping water. The ground was cold stone.

He tried to ignite his fire and the flames would not come. Since he'd learned to use his powers as a child, he'd never failed to call to fire. Panic rose up inside him. Without his magic, how would he get out of here? On hands and knees, he felt his way forward. An outstretched hand felt something smooth. A bar. He was in a cell somewhere. Gripping a bar in each hand, he pressed his face into the gap between them, trying to make out anything that might tell him where he was. Everything was black.

He slumped down, leaning against the wall next to the bars. Resting his elbows on his knees, he held his head with his hands. The last thing he remembered was running toward Saffron, then a cloud of black rising around him. Saffron. Was she here?

"Saffron?" he whispered.

Nothing.

"Saffron?" he spoke louder this time.

After a moment, he heard a small reply. "Ashton? Is that you?"

He turned and gripped the bars again, squinting into the black. "I'm in a cell."

"Me too," she said. "Are you hurt?"

He looked down but couldn't even see his own hands in front of his face. "I don't think so. But I don't have my magic."

There was a long pause. "Saffron?"

"I'm here, Ashton."

Ashton tried again to call to his flames, hoping that the first failure had been a mistake. Again, nothing. He let out a frustrated cry and slammed his palm agains the bar. Pain shot through his hand to his wrist and through his arm. He shook his hand. That was stupid.

"You alright?" Saffron asked.

"Fine." He rubbed his wrist. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure. I woke up a few minutes ago."

Footsteps sounded from somewhere beyond his cell. Ashton glanced into the darkness and saw the light of a torch headed his way. It illuminated a figure he didn't recognize. As it drew closer, she came into view. He squeezed the bars in his hands. Nora.

A long black dress trailed across the ground as she walked. She stopped in front of Ashton and held up her torch to illuminate his face. She was inches from him. He stared at her. She looked so different from how she had looked on the battlefield. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a mess of ringlets. Her mouth was set in a line, eyes hard. How long had he been passed out here?

Her lips curled into a smile. "Hello Ashton, nice to see you again."

Heat rose in his chest and he pressed his face further into the bars. "What am I doing here?"

"You're here as my guest," she said.

"Is this how you treat all of your guests?" Ashton asked.

"Until I know you can behave yourself, you'll stay down here."

"What do you want with us?" Ashton asked.

Nora glanced behind her then looked back at Ashton. "So she's awake, too?" The smile faded from her lips. "You're here because you were always Max's favorite. I don't think he'd be happy with me if I didn't give you one last chance to join us."

Ashton squeezed the bars harder. "Max is dead."

She lifted an eyebrow. "If he were dead, I'd have no reason to keep you."