“No shit it did,” Tamara said. “Micah, Vemar, and I all tried to cross to help, but we didn’t make it far enough to even congratulate ourselves on the effort. Without our dragons, we would’ve been more cargo for Hannon.”
“Tough as balls.” Vemar shook his fist as he grinned at Hannon and me. “Both of them.”
“Balls, my ass,” Lucille replied. “Balls are the most fragile things I’ve ever heard of. A small slap is the end of the world to you fuckers.”
“Yes, yes, we all wish we had the mighty vagina. Bully for you,” Hadriel cut in, rolling his eyes. He stepped closer to me. “Finley, darling, you yourself know that you cannot stay here and rest. Either walk or get carried. Those are your options.”
“I’m good.” I straightened up and wiped my nose with my sleeve for what was probably the millionth time. “It’s fine.” I cleared my hoarse throat. “My voice is a little worse for wear, though.”
“Well, yeah, you were screaming the entire time you crossed the bridge.” Hadriel grabbed my arm and moved me forward. “Okay, love, here we go. This is the part where we need to pay very close attention, or we’ll be lost in this accursed dungeon forever.”
TWENTY-THREE
FINLEY
Releasing my death grip on Nyfain’s essence through the bond, I pushed myself forward. Power still thrummed within me, but I felt utterly exhausted. I felt the way my brother looked.
The tunnel leading away from the Bridge of Doom didn’t take much navigating, so I let Hadriel set the pace, the two of us at the front. Like me, he’d paid attention to the path leading in, so the two of us would need to find the way out.
“We still need to figure out how to get a demon to pilot the boat,” I told him as I sucked in air and remembered that, once upon a time, I used to think this place stank so bad it layered my tongue. Now it just smelled like air.
Gross.
“There will be one or two demons patrolling the beach near the boats,” he said as we reached what looked like a dead end.
“See? Dead end,” someone in the back said with a shaky voice. Elex, it sounded like.
Neither Hadriel nor I replied. We couldn’t spare the energy.
He reached to the side for the latch and then pushed the skull door open.
“Thank the goddess you paid attention to how the door was opened,” I said, putting some pep into my step as I walked through with him. Maybe we weren’t being followed, and maybe they didn’t even know about our escape, but prisoners were brought in randomly. Hadriel was proof of that. We didn’t want a chance meeting with unsuspecting demons. “I was too busy gawking at the skull. Also in pain—they pushed me down the first set of stairs.”
“They did? What the fuck?” Hadriel stopped, surveying the walls when the tunnel broke into three separate paths.
I found a familiar marking, and my dragon pointed out the tunnel with the correct smell. I pointed.
He nodded, and we were walking again.
“I thought Dolion wanted to keep you safe to use against Nyfain?” Hadriel said, reducing his volume.
“At the time, sure. The demon who did it was an idiot.”
At the next crossroads, I pointed again. Hadriel nodded.
“You know, when I first got here, I was so sure I could get out—that no prison could hold me,” I whispered, coming to the next intersection and pointing. Hadriel paused for a moment, scanning the walls. After a moment, he nodded. “Turns out…nope. If not for you guys, I’m not sure I ever would’ve gotten free.”
He snorted. “Calia said something incredibly similar. It’s a lesson in the strength of teamwork and, for me, a lesson in the strength of teams that span the species divide. As I heard it, the dragons, wolves, and faeries have all tried to escape… They faltered because they only cooperated with each other the barest amount. It took someone to bring them all together. It took you.”
“With the help of my amazing butler, brother, and whip-toting lady’s maid…”
“Well, heroes never do it alone, my darling. They just claim they do. Remember that for a drunken storytelling situation.”
I chuckled softly.
One of the torches that usually lit the way had guttered out, washing part of the tunnel in darkness. I glanced back at those who were still magically suppressed and/or couldn’t see in the dark. Those who could see held on to those who couldn’t, guiding them.
We neared what should be the end of our path. The air had cleared dramatically, sweet and refreshing compared to what we’d been breathing. More torches burned against the walls, strangely archaic. I wondered how they stayed going. Magic, perhaps.
Up ahead, it looked like another dead end but for the slips of light and tunnel beyond. Bars cut across the tunnel, an actual door with a real lock.