The bed sank next to her as Bryn said and awkwardly placed a hand on Maude’s shoulder. “Yes, it really is.”
The two shared a look for a beat of silence before Maude cracked a shaky smile, chuckling. Bryn smiled and laughed once as well. Soon, they were both howling, hands clutching at their sides as they both released ten years' worth of pent-up grief, love, rage, and relief in a way that only sisters could.
3
Herrick breathed through the searing pain in his ribs, ignoring the sickly smell of his flesh burning under Baldr's blazing fingers.
"Tell me where your friends are hiding," Baldr ordered, withdrawing his touch as soon as the demand was uttered in the dank cell.
Herrick huffed through the waves of pain, focusing on his pounding heart instead of the memory of her fire. Herefusedto associate her flames with this sadist.
"Even if I did know, I would never tell you," Herrick forced through his bared teeth before he spat on his torturer. Blood mixed with his spittle as it landed on Baldr's cheek. He must have bitten the inside of his cheek at some point because iron and salt flooded his tongue, distracting him for a moment.
Baldr only chuckled and wiped his face with a handkerchief he withdrew from his pocket.
"You will tell me eventually," he said softly, his luminous eyes landing on Herrick.
Drops of sweat ran down Herrick's back as he hung forward slightly, using the last of his energy to stay upright through pure stubbornness. After Baldr had chained him around his neck like a dog, Herrick's arms were hoisted above his head, and his hands were placed in solid iron. The metal gloves that were attached to the ceiling fit him perfectly, making him wonder if they had been designed just for him. The iron nullifying hisgalderleft him exposed for the new Flame General to toy with as he questioned Herrick.
Herrick focused on breathing evenly rather than the pacing General in front of him and the twisting flames that danced at his fingertips. He forced thecomparison from his mind before it could settle in him, but with every flicker of the golden flames, he thought of hiseldr.
"We've been at this for days already, General," Baldr crooned, placing an uncomfortably hot hand on his sweaty cheek, tapping it a few times. "And still, you remain obstinate. I would be impressed if I didn't have better things to do than spend my time in your stinking cell."
Gods, had it been days already?
Herrick ignored the dip of his stomach as he tried to recall if that was true, tried to remember the last time he had been let down from the ceiling. His shoulders burned from bearing his entire weight until they became numb and the air in his lungs had become thin. It had become impossible for Herrick to track time as he had before, imperfect as his system had been.
Scorching heat touched his skin below the jaw;acidhad been poured over him, and the skin was now melting away—
Herrick's hoarse scream echoed through the empty halls of the dungeons below the palace, the sound coming from deep within his soul as he couldn't help remembering a flame that had warmed his blood rather than spark the agony that coursed through his body now.
Baldr doused the flaming hand that had been cupping Herrick's jaw. The skin was raw and pulsing as the cool air of the dungeon caressed it. Gods, the cool air made it worse somehow. Baldr chuckled as Herrick's scream cut off into a growl, his chest heaving to calm his raging heart.
"Feel like talking now?" Baldr asked, his tone light as if they were having a conversation over some ale at the local pub. "Perhaps you can tell me about those who have helped you in this city?"
This had become his new line of questioning: who was a rebel in Logi? Who helped him smuggle out thevitkithat had suddenly disappeared from Flame Soldier surveillance? Helvig didn't know how close he had come to finding the person solely responsible for the evacuation of fellowvitkiin Logi. But Herrick would never give up the pit keeper and his cause— Sigurd did more for Logi's citizens than anyone ever had.
He really didn't know where his friends would have gone to hide. He didn't know if Gunnar was still alive. But Baldr knew this; he only wanted to continue the torture.
All he knew with a deep certainty was that he needed to keep breathing until they came for him. Through all the torture, the burning, the taunting, Herrick knew that his friends would not leave him here to the Flame King even if he hoped they would forget him.
"Despite all the fun we're having, I do need to be on my way," Baldr said, turning away from Herrick and shrugging on his black coat. "The High King is being crowned today, and as his General, my presence is mandatory."
High King?That stirred Herrick from his unfocused state.
"There is no High King," Herrick croaked, his voice raw from his screaming.
Baldr only chuckled again, the sound grating on Herrick worse than any of the horrible things he had done so far.
"There is now."
With that, Baldr left his cell and disappeared down the hall. Right before the door at the far end of the hall latched closed, a breeze drifted into Herrick's cell and swirled around his wrists. The soft sound of a lock being clicked open was the only warning Herrick had before his hands were released from the ceiling.
He crashed to the damp floor in a huge heap, his arms too weak to catch him. Herrick's cheek hit the stone floor first, the crack of bone breaking resounding in his ears before blackness overcame him.
He welcomed it.
The throbbing in his shoulders stirred Herrick from his oblivion first, then the pulsing in his cheek. At some point, he must have crawled back to his makeshift cot because the blanket below him scratched at his burnt skin as he shifted.
