Aelin pressed her palms flat against the metal lid and pushed. The shattered arm, the splinters of bone jutting from her skin: gone. or never had been, but it had felt real. More so than the other memories that pressed in, demanding that she acknowledge them. Accept them. Aelin shoved her palms against the iron, muscles straining. it didn't even shift.
She tried again. The only reason she had the strength to do so was thanks to the services Maeve's healer provided: keeping her muscles from atrophying while she lay there. A soft whine echoed into the box. A warning. Aelin lowered her hands just as the lock grated and the door groaned open. Cairn's footsteps were faster this time. Urgent.
"Relieve yourself in the hall and wait by this door," he snapped at Fenrys. Aelin braced herself as those steps halted. A grunt and his of metal, and firelight poured in. She blinked against it, but kept still. They'd anchored her irons into the box itself, and she'd learned that the hard way. Cairn didn't say anything as he unfastened the chains from their anchors.
That was the most dangerous time for him, right before he moved her to the altar. Even with her feet and hands bound, he took no chances. He didn't today, either, despite not bothering with the gauntlets. Perhaps they'd melted away over the brazier, along with her skin.
Cairn yanked her upright as half a dozen guards silently appeared in the doorway. Their faces held no horror at what had been done to her. She'd seen these males before, on a bloodied bit of beach. "Varik," Cairn said, and one of of the guards stepped forward, Fenrys now at his side by the door, the wolf now as tall as a pony. Varik's sword rested against Fenrys' throat.
Cairn gripped her chains, tugging her against his chest as they walked towards the guards and the wolf. "You make a move, and he dies." Aelin didn't bother telling him she wasn't entirely sure she had the strength to try anything, let alone run. Heaviness settled into her.
She didn't fight the black sack shoved over her head as they passed through the arched doorway. Didn't fight as they walked down that hall, though she counted the steps and turns. Aelin didn't care if Cairn was smart enough to add in a few extras to disorient her, she counted them anyway.
Then open air. She couldn't see it, but it grazed damp fingers over her skin, whispering. Run. Now. The words were a distant murmur. She had no doubt the guard's blade remained at Fenrys' throat, and that it would spill blood. Maeve's order of restraint bound Fenrys too well--- along with that strange gift of his to leap between short distances, as if he were moving from one room to another.
She'd long since lost hope that he'd find some way to use it, to get them away from here. She doubted he'd miraculously reclaim the ability, if the guards sword struck. But if she heeded that voice, if she ran, was the cost of his life worth her own? "You're debating it, aren't you?" Cairn hissed in her ear. She could feel his smile, even though the sack blinded her.
"If the wolf's life is a fair price to get away, try it. See how far you get. We have a few minutes of walking left." She ignored him. Ignored that voice telling her to run, run, run. Step after step they walked, her legs shaking with the effort. Cairn led her up a winding staircase that left her gasping for breath, the mist fading away to cool night air.
Sweet smells. Flowers. Flowers still existed, in this world, this hell, flowers still bloomed. The water's bellow faded behind them to a blessedly dull rushing, soon replaced by merry trickling ahead. Fountains. Cold, smooth tiles bit into her feet, and the air tightened, grew still. A courtyard, perhaps.
