Freya's Freedom (The Tower and the Eye Book 3) (9 page)

The ends of Freya’s hair were almost touching the water. The fish jumped at it and Freya shrieked as several hairs were torn from her scalp by the eager piscines.

The Dark Mistress pressed a button and the wheel halted, squeaking.

“Are you sorry?”

“I haven’t done anything!” Freya screamed as another fish leapt from the water and nipped the end of her nose.

“My babies are hungry today, it seems,” the mistress smiled. “They only ate a Gremlin yesterday. I wonder what sort of mess they could make of that beautiful face of yours.”

“No. Please, don’t hurt me.” Blood from her nose fell into the water, sending the fish into a feeding frenzy. “I don’t understand why I’m here, or why you’re doing this!”

The door to the Torture Chamber flew open.

“Halt!” A familiar voice bellowed, the Jinran accent rolling around the capacious room. “You shall not continue with this barbarity.”

“Grald!” Freya squealed with delight.

The Mistress turned and hissed.

“You will not stop me, I am protected.” She snapped her fingers; instantly they were surrounded by a group of Dragon Spawn.

They hissed and spat at Grald as he advanced, bared blade held high. One dragon spawn leapt at him and Grald knocked it away with his shield. The creature landed in the small pool and shrieked as the water bubbled around it.

“Hmm. Won’t need to feed that shoal tonight,” the Mistress laughed.

“Glad to be of service,” Grald snarled, splitting a second Dragon Spawn in two with one blow.

“Watch out!” Vrenstalliren shouted as several dragon spawn appeared behind the knight.

Grald saluted the encaged Paladin and spun, slicing through three of the Spawn before they had moved.

Freya watched, entranced by her brother’s skills with a sword.
How did he improve his sword work so much? It’s hard to follow him while I hang up side down, but when he left Jira, he was good, but only in one on one, never melee. He always got knocked out in the arena battles.

Another Dragon Spawn lunged at Grald and managed to grab his shield. He slammed it into a nearby column and dropped it down the opening of a pit. A roar echoed up from below and a shriek as whatever was in the pit devoured the dragon spawn.

“My, my. What a warrior we have here,” the Dark Mistress purred to Freya. “He’s too good for these idiots. I may have to take him on myself.”

“He’ll have you chopped into pieces before you can touch him,” Vrenstalliren crowed from the holding cell. “You’ll be gremlin fodder.”

“Sadly, I think your companion may be right, my sweet prisoner,” the Mistress said, running a nail along Freya’s body. “But I have more than one trick up my tight leather sleeves.”

“You won’t get a...” Freya started. Her voice disappeared as the mistress held a black dagger to her throat, pressing hard enough for a dribble of blood to run from the blade and drip into the water, sending the fish into a second frenzy, jumping up, their fins splashing Freya’s face with water, and tugging on her hair.

“Chance? Oh, my dear, I know more about your brother than you think I do. He’d never put you in danger,” the mistress whispered to her.

How did she know Grald is my brother?
Freya stared up at the woman.

Vrenstalliren threw his naked body at the bars.

“No! You will not harm my holy charge!”

“And what are you going to do about it?” the mistress sneered, her attention taken away from Freya for a moment.

The dancing girl summoned up her strength and bit into the arm that passed across her face. Freya clenched her teeth as hard as she could and was rewarded with blood as she managed to penetrate the leather.

The Mistress shrieked and snatched her arm away, dropping the dagger into the water below Freya.

Blood spurted out over Freya’s face and she spat out the piece of leather and flesh left behind, into the trough. The fish swarmed on it gratefully.

“Bravo Freya!” Vrenstalliren cheered. “See that Grald? Your sister is…” his voice trailed away as the mistress laughed, even as she staunched the flow of blood from her arm with a spell.

Freya shook the blood out of her eyes and looked up as she realised that the noise of the fight had stopped. The fish finished with the lump of flesh and resumed jumping and snapping at her face.

Grald sheathed his blade and strode across to the mistress, the dragon spawn making way for him.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, Grald my Love. This is nothing,” the mistress giggled. “You’ve given me worse wounds making love!”

Freya stared up at her brother, who had taken the mistress into his arms.
What’s going on?

“I know, but I don’t like it when you get hurt in a battle. That was why you had the Dragon Spawn, remember?” Grald kissed the woman passionately.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t fuss,” the dark mistress said breathlessly when he released her lips.

“What in Espilieth’s name is going on, Grald?” Vrenstalliren shouted. “You were winning! You could have had us free in a few more moments.”

Grald spun on the Paladin, a broad smile wreathing his face.

“Oh yes, I’ve defeated much harder enemies than this bunch.” He gestured back at the remains of the Dragon Spawn squad who had gathered at the back of the torture chamber, cleaning their weapons on their tunics. “But free you? Now, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Vrenstalliren’s jaw dropped and Freya gasped.

“What do you mean?”

Grald turned to her, his arm wrapped around the Dark Mistress’s waist.

“This was supposed to be a surprise for you, Little Sister. How else was I going to introduce my wife to you?”

The Dark Mistress smiled and took off her mask.

“The idea was that I was to almost torture you and Grald would burst in, destroy the Dragon Spawn protecting me and rescue you. Then the three of us would have gone to Grald’s quarters and celebrated.” The face under the mask was of a stunning dark elf, her deep ebony skin making her pale gold eyes and silver hair stand out in the torchlight. She snapped her fingers and a gremlin appeared and turned the wheel so Freya was upright. “I wouldn’t have hurt my sister-in-law.”

Freya looked at Grald who was beaming at his wife.

“Grald. Please, explain what’s going on. Why are you married to a dark elf?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet? I thought you were more intelligent than that,” Vrenstalliren snorted. “He’s one of them.”

“Don’t insult my Sister, Elf,” Grald snapped and flung one arm out. Blue lightening streaked across the room and slammed Vrenstalliren into the far wall of the holding cell. He screamed and smoke began to rise from his hair.

“Stop it Grald, you’re hurting him!” Freya writhed against the grip of the straps on her limbs.

Grald stopped. “Yes, I was hurting him, wasn’t I? But it’s so much fun to have that much power, why shouldn’t I use it?”

Freya stared at her older brother and wept helplessly.

* * *

“Are we there yet?” Lin asked.

“Would you stop asking that? I can’t concentrate on what I am following if you keep talking,” Vox snapped.

Lin looked at Kraarz and the blind Urakh grinned.

“Be at peace my friend. Vox is following a scent in the otherworld instead of following it directly…”

“This corridor leads all the way round the outside of the dungeon.” Vox said absently.

“We’re going the long way round?” Lin burst in. “Why? My Lady could be dead by the time we get there!”

Vox stopped and looked up at her.

“Lin, please be patient. The route I’m taking avoids the majority of the rooms in this dungeon and with a bit of luck, we’ll reach the Prison without being detected.”

Lin nodded and the Flixen started moving again, his black nose held to the floor.

“How much bigger is Vox going to get?” Lin asked Kraarz quietly. “He won’t fit through the corridors if he gets much bigger, especially with that wingspan.” She glanced up at the folded wings, the tips of the flight feathers brushing through cobwebs near the ceiling.

Kraarz held one hand out and Vox swished its tail, the black tip brushing across his palm. “Hmm. I’d say that he had another foot to full growth. But we’ll be out of here before that happens.”

At the next junction, Vox stopped.

“The prison is to the left.” He sniffed the air and turned right.

“If the prison is to the left, why are we going right?” Lin halted and folded her arms. “I’m not moving any further unless you explain yourself.”

Vox blew out an expressive breath and turned his head back over his shoulder to look at her. “She isn’t there. Why would we go somewhere she isn’t?”

“You said she was in the prison!”

“I was wrong.” Vox shrugged. “It happens sometimes.”

Lin sighed. “All right. Let’s go.” She slipped her sword out of its sheath.

“Good idea.” Kraarz nodded approvingly and snapped his fingers. A ball of green fire appeared over the top of his staff.

The Flixen rolled his eyes. “There aren’t any creatures around. I’d be able to feel them if there were.”

“I thought you said that the Dark Gods shielded dungeons and their creatures from you?” Lin frowned. “Make your mind up.”

“I don’t have a mind, so how can I make it up?” Vox ignored her exasperated cry and moved forward again.

“Where do you think you two are going?” a voice asked from behind them.

“Two? Hello?” Vox blinked. “What about me?”

Lin spun round, the tip of her sword flying out to land in the throat of a large devil demon. A dribble of blue-black blood stained the steel and ran down the creature’s upper body. She pulled back into a defensive stance.

He backed away.

“Steady on. I mean you no harm. I just wanted to know why one of our allies was in the company of an Outlander.” The devil demon looked at Kraarz.

“My race turned from the Aracan Katuvana eons ago,” the Shaman replied. “We found our freedom and a home without him.”

The Devil Demon frowned; his golden cat slit eyes narrowed.

“Then you are an enemy; and the new Custodian was right.”

“New Custodian right? Right about what?” Vox asked.

The corpulent demon straightened his shoulders.

“Looks like I get to do a bit more training.”

Kraarz and Lin had shifted positions gradually, Lin moving in front of Kraarz, but allowing him a clear view of the demon. She raised her sword and the demon grinned, flexing the long black claws on his hands.

“Come on then, Little Outlander. I’ll snap you in half like a fresh femur.”

“Oi!” Vox growled, pushed Lin aside and stalked right up to the demon, tail stiff. “Can you even see me, Blubber butt?” Vox tapped the demon with one huge paw, knocking him off balance and onto the floor.

“What the…” the demon looked around confused and Lin took her moment. Leaping over Vox, she landed, turned and sliced the demon’s head off all in one smooth motion.

“Very well done, Lin,” Kraarz applauded softly.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Vox pushing him over.” Lin used the shaggy red fur on the demon’s twitching legs to clean her sword.

“The demon couldn’t see me,” Vox tilted his head to one side. “Vaarzasia, Hel and Fiör created this body for me. Maybe they have made me invisible to the creatures of the Dark Gods?”

Lin hid a smile at Vox’s confusion.

“Maybe they wanted you to realise that you aren’t the centre of everyone’s attention all the time.”

Vox growled at her and stalked away down the corridor.

Kraarz and Lin followed, laughing.

* * *

“So, Lord. What do you wish to do now?” the Jar asked as the window faded to black. “All the pieces are in place and we are already minus a Devil Demon, thanks to Goraln’s slothfulness.”

The Aracan Katuvana appeared to ponder the question for some time, then he shrugged and gestured. The Lych Mistress appeared on the Window.

“I am almost ready, my most wonderful Lord.” The Mistress curtseyed, her cleavage almost falling out of the low-necked purple gown she wore.

“Excellent,” the Jar said. “However, the Lord needs you to do one more thing for him.”

“Anything for my betrothed.”

“Send your Devil Demon to Jinra Dungeon. That fool Theraldin was too soft and let Goraln get out of shape.” The Jar spat green goo at the floor. “It’s just as well he’s dead.” A Gremlin appeared beside the pedestal and cleared up the goo.

The Lych Mistress made a note on a piece of parchment and passed it to a Gremlin who spun on the spot and disappeared.

“Lord Iniran will be there shortly, my Lord.”

“Thank you. Our Lord looks forward to greeting you in the flesh,” the Jar said.

The Lych Mistress curtseyed again and the Aracan Katuvana cleared the window. Then he stared at the Jar.

“What?” the Jar looked at the hooded figure. “I merely invited her over for a…getting-to-know-you-again party.” The Jar looked back at the window and with a whisper of power activated it. “Shall we see how our young empress is getting on?”