Chapter Eleven: Dark Wings and Dark Dreams

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There was darkness all around as I followed a grunting thug through a passageway. The air was damp and I could feel moistness on my exposed cheekbones. The man in front paid no attention to me; he held a flaming torch at arm's length, and it cast wavering shadows along tattooed arms. After several minutes walking, we reached the end of the passageway, and then descended down circular steps. Still, the man did not even notice me following him, my toes slapping bare on the old, worn stone, my fingers grappling for a hold against the smooth walls. The man must have walked this way a hundred times or more; he knew each uneven step that caused me to wobble, and he stepped surely, rarely looking at his feet.

The descent was short, and then we were on even ground once more. Cold, wet tiles were flooded with a slime I didn't want to place. The underground cavern was not large, but larger than needed for a single, cramped cell, lit only by the torch in the man's hands. Keys rattled as he fished into his pocket, pulling out a chain of brass. I squinted through the gloom, to where the light threw itself onto a corner of the cell for a few seconds, before shadows replaced it. Like a strobe light, I saw flashes of a human huddled there.

The man stepped towards the cell, placing the torch in the bracket whilst he unlocked the hatch. I wasn't watching him, however. Like a silent spectre, I stepped eerily towards the bars of the cage, pale in the torchlight. And I gaped through the bars at the rotting girl there.

She looked battered and ill. Sunken cheeks, once plump, marked a sudden weight loss. Her golden curls were matted and flat. A black eye had shut one eye completely, and the other looked nervously at the man unlocking the door. Her hands, wrapped around her knees, shook as she tried to curl tighter into a ball. I watched in alarm as the cell door opened, and the man grabbed her by her hair, dragging her out.

Reia cried out, sobbing. Her wings fluttered weakly in protest. Like her hair, they were now stained with grime, and clumps of feathers had fallen out.

The man let go of her and said something in a low voice. Reia shook.

'Get up!' the man roared. 'The King wishes to see you!'

'No...' sobbed Reia, 'please...leave me here...'

I stared in horror as the man grabbed her hair and pulled her out of the cell. Reia's voice faltered as her cry faded. Neither paid any attention to me, and I had lost my own voice, numbed by the pain of my beloved sister.

As Reia crawled to avoid being pulled by her hair, she passed by my knees. She stood shakily up, and I reached to help her. Her eyes came up to meet mine, and they opened in surprise.

'I'll save you!' I tried to say, but no words came from my mouth. I was truly a spectre.

Reia mouthed something back at me, her expression pained.

She was saying, 'Run!'

I woke up panting, something sticking into my back and the fear from my nightmare still gripping me. It took me a few seconds to recall that I was safe, until pieces began to fall into place, and things were not, not okay. I had seen Reia in a dark cell, presumably captured by the King— her father— and treated appallingly.

I frowned down at my hands, bunching the sheets up. I was back in my room, and from the darkness outside, I figured I must have slept all day. I wondered what time it was, and how I'd gotten back into my own room. I was certain that being next to Fabian hadn't been a fabrication.

Gradually, I relaxed, and the tension in my fingers disappeared. I had no proof that the dream about Reia had been real. But could Reia have sent me the vision? That would make it true, and she would be in trouble. Could I have Seen it myself— did I have that kind of power?

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