Davina (Davy Harwood #3)(6)

He stopped pacing and stood there, in front of the bars. They hummed with magic, and though his fingers itched to tear them apart, he knew he couldn’t.

Then he heard her scream again, and he gritted his teeth. One of these days he would find a way. He would help Davy. He had to.





DAVY



When the last scream left me, my body collapsed on the ground. The witches had been chanting again. This time, with each of their chants, my body lifted off the floor and rose in the air. I had fought it at first, rallying The Immortal inside of me to fight back. Nothing worked. No magic could leave my body. So now I let them try. I let them fling my body back and forth, up and down, upside down at times. I no longer cared.

It never worked. They never won.

They left again, quieted and confused.

I rolled over and tried to lift myself up. My arms fell underneath my weight and my face slammed back down. My nose hit the bottom cage with force and I groaned, but the pain was almost welcoming. It was nothing compared to what I’d endured. When I pushed myself to a sitting position, I felt the blood that came from my nose. I touched it with gentle fingers and found that it still remained intact. I hadn’t broken my own face, yet.

A soft laugh escaped at that thought, but I groaned instantly from the pain.

“You have hurt yourself.”

My head whipped up, but no one was there. There was no Lucan to taunt me.

“What is this?” I asked. It’d been a long time since I had a voice speak to me in my own head.

He laughed. “I am not The Immortal speaking to you.”

My shoulders sagged forward. “That’d be more helpful.”

He laughed again, softly. “They have been trying hard, have they not? The thread must be buried deep inside of you.”

“Can you help me?”

There was silence.

I heard my own breathing. In and out. Inhale, exhale. They were shallow breaths. They grew shallower by the second.

Then I heard his response. “I cannot.”

“You’re powerful enough to speak to me, to see what they are doing, but not enough to free me? What kind of a sorcerer are you?” My tone was loathsome.

There was a sharp intake of air and a powerful explosion immediately after. The force of it threw me against the far wall of my cage. For the first time, I didn’t feel the impact. As soon as my body fell down to the metal bars, I lifted my head once more and gazed around. He had gone. I knew that, but my eyes quickly searched for anything. And then I saw it. A small amount of smoke still floated in the air, near the top corner of the room. He had been watching from there and the next time he came, and I knew he would.

The door crashed open, and Lucan raced inside. “What was that?”

I frowned. I would’ve expected him to be angry, but as I searched his face, there was no rage. When I felt into him, there was concern, but no anger. I murmured softly, “It was nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me!” He grabbed the cage and lifted it, shaking it.

My eyes grew wide. My cage was big enough to encase an entire bedroom and he lifted it without breaking a sweat. There was no resistance, as if he lifted a bag of books.

Lucan set my cage back down immediately and backed away. His eyes caught and held onto mine.

“You are not a normal human.” I rushed to the end of the cage beside him. “What are you? What have you done?”

He was quiet, staring back at me. Then he left, just as quietly.

When the door closed behind him, I sat back. He wasn’t human. He was more. I didn’t know what that meant, but it meant something. I felt it in my bones. I could use that to help me escape. I just had to figure out how first.





The voice never came back. It seemed like a month had passed. And Lucan stopped taunting me. He stopped coming to sit by me. I didn’t know if they corresponded, but something had happened. Perhaps his magical palace wasn’t so magical after all. Perhaps the enchanted Mori weren’t so impervious. I didn’t know, but after that day, things weren’t the same. Lucan wasn’t so mad crazy. He had stopped enjoying my pain.

The witches continued their chanting spells, and he still insisted the thread could be pulled out of me, but I caught his stares a few times. He was scared, but he wasn’t scared of me. It had to be whatever had happened to me, whoever that voice had been.

Then one day, Lucan sat beside me again.

I tensed and waited as the witches left again. Was this the day he started taunting again?

“I can see why my brother loves you.”

I laughed. “Really?”

He didn’t look at me, but sat beside and stared at the wall ahead of us. It was bleak, made of cement, and the night had fallen. The room had grown dark; soon the cold would come.