Pegasus? I didn’t think they really existed.”
Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a collar. It was similar to the one he already wore, only wider. Probably heavier. “I was able to conjure this.”
A wave of her staff opened the cell door.
Gryff backed away from her as far as his chair would allow.
“If you resist, the girl will suffer for it.”
He bit back the curse that rose in his throat, stood acquiescent as she removed the old collar with a touch of her hand and put the new one in place, chanted a few words that fused the ends together.
“You will not be able to slip out of this one,” she said, smiling. “It will grow or shrink as you do. You can try it out tonight. No matter what you do, you will not be able to trick your way out of it, or dislodge it.”
Resisting the urge to touch the new restraint, he said, “You never told me what you wagered,” though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
“The girl, of course.”
The thought of Marri — young and innocent — being mauled by Jarrod made Gryff’s stomach clench.
“I don’t know who she is,” Serepta went on, “but she’s more than some mere peasant, of that I’m certain. Tonight, I intend to discover the truth.”
‘What if she won’t talk?”
Serepta’s laughter filled the air. “I saw your little love scene. I think, with the right persuasion, she’ll tell me everything I want to know.”
Fear knotted in Gryff’s gut. He knew just what kind of persuasion the witch had in mind.
* * *
Marri glanced at her surroundings. Save for the chair she occupied, there was no furniture in the room. No carpets on the floor, no tapestries on the walls. No windows, only a single door. A thick iron bar hung from the ceiling. Brown stains marred the stone floor beneath it.
She jumped when the door opened, felt her heart skip a beat when Gryff stepped into the room. Two burly guards followed close behind him. Wordlessly, they secured his hands to the iron bar, then left the room, closing the door behind them.
Marri stared at Gryff. “What’s going on?”
“Serepta’s going to ask you a few questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“She wants to know who you are.”
Marri’s eyes widened.
“Exactly. Faster than you can say ransom, she’ll be in touch with your brother.”
Her face paled. “And he’ll kill me. But, what does that have to do with you?”
Knowing it was useless, he tugged against his bonds. “She thinks you care for me…”
“And that hurting you will make me tell her what she wants to know.”
“Exactly. No matter what she does, don’t tell her the truth.”
“But…”
“She won’t kill me. Whatever she dishes out, I can take it.” He glanced at the door. “She’s coming.”
Serepta entered the room, staff in hand. She smiled at Marri as she closed the door. “Well, well, here you are. I assume Gryff has told you why we’re here.”
Marri nodded.
“So, we can do this the easy way,” the witch purred, “or the hard way. The easy way is for you to tell me who you are. The hard way is for you to refuse, although not for you. He’ll be the one to suffer.”
Marri looked at Gryff.
He stared back at her, his face impassive.
“My name is Cay. I was at Bosquetown on my way to Fennton when your guards kidnapped us.”
Serepta sighed dramatically. Then, with a shake of her head, she murmured an incantation.
Marri gasped as Gryff writhed in his bonds, his face contorted in agony, every muscle taut.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change your answer?” Serepta asked.
From the corner of her eye, Marri saw Gryff shake his head, almost imperceptibly.
Voice trembling, she repeated her former answer.
A low groan rose from Gryff’s throat as tiny cuts opened across his chest, on his arms and legs. Bright red blood leaked from the wounds, dripping into the iron grate at his feet.
“Last chance,” Serepta said.
Marri bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as the
Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a collar. It was similar to the one he already wore, only wider. Probably heavier. “I was able to conjure this.”
A wave of her staff opened the cell door.
Gryff backed away from her as far as his chair would allow.
“If you resist, the girl will suffer for it.”
He bit back the curse that rose in his throat, stood acquiescent as she removed the old collar with a touch of her hand and put the new one in place, chanted a few words that fused the ends together.
“You will not be able to slip out of this one,” she said, smiling. “It will grow or shrink as you do. You can try it out tonight. No matter what you do, you will not be able to trick your way out of it, or dislodge it.”
Resisting the urge to touch the new restraint, he said, “You never told me what you wagered,” though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
“The girl, of course.”
The thought of Marri — young and innocent — being mauled by Jarrod made Gryff’s stomach clench.
“I don’t know who she is,” Serepta went on, “but she’s more than some mere peasant, of that I’m certain. Tonight, I intend to discover the truth.”
‘What if she won’t talk?”
Serepta’s laughter filled the air. “I saw your little love scene. I think, with the right persuasion, she’ll tell me everything I want to know.”
Fear knotted in Gryff’s gut. He knew just what kind of persuasion the witch had in mind.
* * *
Marri glanced at her surroundings. Save for the chair she occupied, there was no furniture in the room. No carpets on the floor, no tapestries on the walls. No windows, only a single door. A thick iron bar hung from the ceiling. Brown stains marred the stone floor beneath it.
She jumped when the door opened, felt her heart skip a beat when Gryff stepped into the room. Two burly guards followed close behind him. Wordlessly, they secured his hands to the iron bar, then left the room, closing the door behind them.
Marri stared at Gryff. “What’s going on?”
“Serepta’s going to ask you a few questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“She wants to know who you are.”
Marri’s eyes widened.
“Exactly. Faster than you can say ransom, she’ll be in touch with your brother.”
Her face paled. “And he’ll kill me. But, what does that have to do with you?”
Knowing it was useless, he tugged against his bonds. “She thinks you care for me…”
“And that hurting you will make me tell her what she wants to know.”
“Exactly. No matter what she does, don’t tell her the truth.”
“But…”
“She won’t kill me. Whatever she dishes out, I can take it.” He glanced at the door. “She’s coming.”
Serepta entered the room, staff in hand. She smiled at Marri as she closed the door. “Well, well, here you are. I assume Gryff has told you why we’re here.”
Marri nodded.
“So, we can do this the easy way,” the witch purred, “or the hard way. The easy way is for you to tell me who you are. The hard way is for you to refuse, although not for you. He’ll be the one to suffer.”
Marri looked at Gryff.
He stared back at her, his face impassive.
“My name is Cay. I was at Bosquetown on my way to Fennton when your guards kidnapped us.”
Serepta sighed dramatically. Then, with a shake of her head, she murmured an incantation.
Marri gasped as Gryff writhed in his bonds, his face contorted in agony, every muscle taut.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change your answer?” Serepta asked.
From the corner of her eye, Marri saw Gryff shake his head, almost imperceptibly.
Voice trembling, she repeated her former answer.
A low groan rose from Gryff’s throat as tiny cuts opened across his chest, on his arms and legs. Bright red blood leaked from the wounds, dripping into the iron grate at his feet.
“Last chance,” Serepta said.
Marri bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as the
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