Chapter 172
When I come to, everything feels heavy, like I’m suspended in a dream. My head throbs, and the dim, cold light filtering through the water deepens the pounding in my skull. My limbs are sluggish, my thoughts slow to untangle from the haze of unconsciousness.
It takes me a moment to orient myself. I’m floating just above the floor of a room carved from dark, glossy stone, its surfaces shimmering faintly with veins of igneous rock. The walls feel close, almost oppressive, and bars crisscross over the only windows, their shadows casting sharp, lattice-like patterns across the room.
Cora’s soft groan pulls me from my daze. She’s propped against one of the smooth, carved walls, her usually composed face drawn tight with discomfort as she shakes off the effects of… whatever it is they used on us.
“Gramma?” My voice is hoarse, the sound muffled by the water surrounding us. “You okay?”
She blinks a few times before focusing on me, her expression hardening. “I’ve been better,” she mutters, her voice tight. Her eyes sweep over the room, taking in every detail before her jaw sets with grim resolve. “Where are we?”
“A tower,” I say, swimming toward the nearest window. The bars are thick and heavy, made of brass or patinated copper, like everything else in the room. Gilded. For show.
Beyond them, the city of Ao stretches out in a breathtaking display of beauty and menace. The structures glisten with polished igneous rock, their carved shapes blending seamlessly into the underwater cliffs.
Streams of glowing fish dart through the city’s winding waterways, illuminating the labyrinth of streets below. And at the center of it all stands a massive domed colosseum. Its sheer size dominates the cityscape, a looming monument of power and violence that sends a chill through me just looking at it.
“Where are Wake and Khale?” Cora’s voice pulls my attention away from the view. She’s already scanning the room, her sharp gaze probing every corner as if the answer might be hidden there. Her lips press into a thin line. “Do you see where they might be?”
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “No. It’s just us.”
Cora’s fists clench, and she swims toward the heavy, reinforced door, pounding on it with the flat of her hand. The dull, metallic sound reverberates through the small space. “Excuse me! What is going on here? Let us out!”
I join her, my voice rising to match hers. “Where are our friends? What do you want with us?”
At first, there’s no response. The silence stretches, oppressive and infuriating. Then, after what feels like an eternity, heavy footsteps echo from the other side of the door. A shadow looms through the narrow viewing slot before it slides open, revealing a guard’s cold, impassive face.
“Be silent,” he snaps, his voice sharp and devoid of sympathy. “Or I’ll make you silent.”
Cora glares at him, her defiance palpable. “You think this will go unnoticed? Do you have any idea who we are?”
The guard snorts, his lips curling into a sneer. “You’re prisoners. That’s all that matters.” He slams the viewing slot shut, the sound ringing out like a death knell.
Cora mutters something under her breath, her hands curling into fists as she swims back from the door. Her expression is stormy, her frustration boiling just beneath the surface. She turns to me, her eyes narrowing with thought. “Phoebe, can you etherwalk? Try to reach Wake.”
I nod, closing my eyes and reaching inward, searching for the cold, distant pull of my power. It stirs faintly, like an ember buried beneath ash, but just as I begin to fan it into something usable, a soft, bitter laugh interrupts me.
My eyes snap open, and I whirl around to see a figure emerging from the shadows of an adjoining room.
The woman is stunning, her presence almost ethereal. Her light brown skin glows faintly in the dim light, and her indigo hair floats around her like a halo. Scales the color of copper and rose gold glimmer along her arms and shoulders, accentuating her regal bearing.
She’s adorned in gold chains and polished shells, her outfit a work of art made of diaphanous chiffon that swirls and sways with every movement.
“I’ve tried…oh, how I’ve tried. And yet, it’s no use,” she says, her voice smooth but laced with weariness. “You can scream, etherwalk, or beg. It won’t make a difference. You will not be getting out of here.”
Cora stiffens, her gaze sharpening like a blade. “Who are you? How long have you been here?”
The woman doesn’t answer immediately. She swims past us, her movements deliberate but unhurried, until she reaches the window.
Her eyes fix on the distant colosseum, her expression distant and unreadable. “I’ve been here long enough that it doesn’t matter who I am anymore,” she says finally, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Long enough that I have come to terms with the fact that I am going to die here. And if you are lucky… you will, too.”
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