“No.”
And there was no hesitation in his heart at the thought of leaving so many behind to suffer. Their agony and forlorn hope battered at her shields. She walked along the lit tunnel, gazing into the many gaunt faces, and bloodied bodies. Some huddled into the far corners, whimpering, others stared vacantly at the walls, rocking themselves trapped in their silent misery, while others stood, gripping the bars of the cage a desperate hope shining through their aura. She flared her powers touching on the individual minds she felt. “There are four hundred and thirty-seven souls in this dungeon. And I do not believe they are criminals, only enemies of the empire.”
“They are prisoners of war.”
She nodded, knowing it was merely the way of the world and hating she could not help them. Whenever she had entered the dungeon on the emperor’s order, it had been in the upper levels and had been shielded from the captives. She hadn’t been able to feel their pain and despair so keenly. It would be impossible to try and escape with so many weak and helpless. The empire was so vast and powerful, and they were so few. “We should leave.”
Then she turned and made her way back to the girl. It would have been easier to continue without coming back to inform her they could not offer any hope of rescue. “We cannot take you with us.”
A whimper slipped from Shilah at the despair that swamped the girl’s senses, and she stood there, trembling with her shields open, refusing to protect herself from the pain of the child. Shilah read her thoughts and flinched. Shoring her resolve, she allowed herself to feel every rape, every single torture, mental and physical that had been done to the young girl as if it had been done to her. Tears trickled down her cheeks, the heavy sorrow pressing in on her chest. She swamped the girl with thoughts of warmth and reassurance, a promise that she would be safe, and reunited with her family if they lived.
Kamu and Thyon stepped forward. “We are not at our peak strength, but we can fight. They will fight too. I am sure of it.”
His words echoed empty, for they all knew the prisoners were too frail and broken to do much more than scrabble behind them as they fled. There was no strength to lend to any fight that could come their way. They were unequivocally a hindrance.
“I will be merciful and kill them,” Lachlan said dispassionately.
“All of them?” Kala gasped rushing toward the cage and staring at the young girl. “You would murder them?”
The girl stared at him, and her thoughts blasted to Shilah.
“She would prefer it,” she said. “She would prefer death to the ways she had suffered, and she is certain everyone else would too.”
“As you wish.”
He stepped into the shadows of the cage and gripped the head of the child. Kala spun around, unable to look at an act that should be one of mercy but was so terrible in its cruelty. The girl closed her eyes, seemingly accepting death, but Shilah read her fears of the unknown, the pain of never marrying or fulfilling all the hopes and dreams she had for her life.
“Stop! I do not wish it,” she gasped, uncaring that her voice was rough with unshed tears. “If I cannot find a way to save four hundred people how can I save Dxyriah which has two million souls relying on me?”
“I do not like your distress, mate.”
She swallowed back the tears, not wanting her compassion to be seen as weakness. Shilah did not want to analyze why, but it was important to her that he saw her strength.
He stepped back from the girl who had been seized with trembling. Her s
mall frame convulsing and her fear beating at Shilah.
“All is well. You will not die today, I swear it.”
“He is a Darkan.” The girl’s fear grew even stronger, the stink of it almost overwhelming to Shilah’s sensitive senses. She sought the words to reassure her, knowing she had a history of revulsion for his kind to contend with.
“I’m his mate. And I…he would not ever do anything to hurt me I believe. And he knows I want to save you. So, you do not have to fear.”
She felt him then, a dark hovering shadow in her mind and knew he listened in on the conversation. How odd she did not mind him there. Taking a bracing breath, Shilah spoke aloud, “Lachlan Ravenswood, can you open everyone’s cage?”
Her sister and the guard behind her froze.
“They do not face death?” Kala asked, glancing around as if she expected to be heard by someone else.
“No. I…I would prefer we attempted a rescue. I will connect with their minds and speak with them collectively and calm them. I know many might die, but dozens will also live.”
Kamu stepped closer. “You are able to speak in their minds collectively? Are you that strong of a telepath?”
She lifted her chin. “I am an Imperial telepath,” she said, uncaring of the arrogance in her tone. “I’ll communicate their imminent rescue, and how imperative it is they move with stealth and follow all instructions. I will also implant the urgency of wanting to leave into their minds and their loyalty to each other as we flee.”
Admiration and approval glowed in his eyes. She faced her mate. No. Lachlan Ravenswood. She needed to think of him by his name and not the abstract yet so possessive term she had yet to understand. “I believe it will be best if you stayed in the shadows at all times, Lachlan Ravenswood. The knowledge a Darkan is with us will be counterproductive to our fleeing.”
His mouth didn’t smile, but a hint of amusement crept into the dark abyss in his eyes.