Terror bubbled up within her. The castle loomed above the horizon. The insidious darkness around her had worn her down, and Lara felt wretched, her stomach in a constant state of upheaval. She craved a single breath of air that wasn’t rank with hatred and corruption, but instead they floated closer to Gharra.

For a second, she thought about falling overboard, taking her chances with the creatures in the ocean. She knew how to swim, but she wasn’t that strong of a swimmer. They were too far from shore, and she felt the crew’s eyes on her. Lara might make it into the water, but they’d fish her right back out, and her life would take an immediate turn for the worse.

With every fiber of her being, she screamed through her Tal’Ai bond, Chion!

There wasn’t an answer. Not that she expected one. From one second to the next, following some unheard signal, the crew flew into action, and the ship slowly changed course, heading inland. Lara ignored everyone behind her, latching her gaze onto the activity along the port. Ships identical to the one holding her hostage were at anchor, providing the Malirrans a safe harbor for the smaller ships skirting around them. A few ships were docked at the ports. A steady flow of men walked up and down the planks, carrying supplies to and from the ships.

The dark miasma around her magic shield thickened the closer they came to shore, and Lara trembled. At first glance, Gharra looked untouched, but when she did a slower, more careful sweep, evidence of a hard-fought battle appeared. Blackened stones and empty space where roofs once stood showed where fires had raged.

The ship brushed up against the wharf, and she stumbled and fell to the deck. Some of the crew crowed their amusement at her expense, but she kept her mouth shut.

Picking herself back up, Lara jerked her head around when fingers dug into her arm. She struggled to stay on her feet as she was dragged across the deck by Tave. They fell in behind Harto. The feelings of oppression and terror almost crushed her before Lara even set foot on land, making her huddle behind her shield.

Harto tossed orders right and left, never breaking stride. Despite the cauldron of dark emotions, Lara had never been so thankful to stand on dry land. Used to the constant movement beneath her, the sedentary ground caused her to sway as if she danced to music only she could hear. Lara locked her knees in place and took a deep, steadying breath.

Rotten fish and soured bodies invaded her nose, almost overcoming the emotions bombarding her. Choking on the stench, she hacked and swallowed. Lara cried out when Tave wrenched her backward, pain shooting from her shoulder socket. She clamped down on the whimper.

The men on shore gave Harto a wide berth as if they knew and feared him. Trailing behind the captain, Tave and Lara walked unencumbered, and she had a moment to wonder exactly who Harto was besides captain of his ship. The sound of something hitting the ground from above caught her attention.

Glancing up, she screamed.

Horrified, not able to take her eyes off the gruesome sight, she stumbled and tripped over her feet. The decaying remains of people’s heads dangled from the wall, and the distinct sounds of insects buzzed above her. She stopped counting after they passed the tenth head, but the number of dead was more, stretching for as far as she could see.

Tave’s dark chuckle in her ear clamped her mouth shut once again. Lara swallowed the bile in her throat. Death surrounded her, and the emotions swirling around placed her smack in the middle of hell.

Lara’s eyes widened when Tave leaned into her. “Take a good, long look, Kurite. Betray us, and see whether you receive the same mercy as these men.”

Mercy? The Malirran called this mercy?

He must have seen something in her eyes because the laugh that left him was hideous in the pleasure he got from telling her the truth. “There are worse ways to die. The King and his war council have perfected the art of ripping apart a body and leaving the person still breathing. You’ll beg for death long before it comes.”

Lara retreated as far as possible, feeling as if her soul shriveled a little. Her eyes happened to land on a man walking toward her. The Pyranni’s eyes were shuttered, but she somehow recognized the look. The Malirrans had broken his will in a matter of weeks.

After the first Pyranni, Lara found another, then another. Their fear hit her hard, but there was another emotion that worried her more.

Defeat clung to them like fog, and Lara had a difficult time not copying their behavior. They were all the same. Their shoulders curled forward, and their heads hung down. The emotion multiplied the closer they came to the castle.

What had the Malirrans done to the Gharran people? Their will to live had been sucked out of Pyran in such a short time. And she thought she’d outwit these monsters?

Pulled through a large gateway, Lara warily raised her head to study the imposing castle. The brown sludge changed to black tar, and she shivered with dread. She did not want to know what waited for her inside those walls.

It was a relief when, instead of entering the castle, they cut through the grounds, leaving the keep behind. At the second gate, guards studied them before nodding once to Harto. Lara took in the city street, noticing that it stood empty despite the sun shining. She would have thought the city empty except the emotions from those behind the walls and houses tried to hammer her into submission.

Two intersections later, they left the street and stepped into a courtyard. Purple and red flowers bloomed in the garden on both sides of the path, a stark contrast to the gloom everywhere else. A terrified servant woman opened the door for them, and Tave pushed her into the entryway. Walking through a short hallway, Lara looked around the large, open room. The home had once been owned by a wealthy family, perhaps even a nobleman. The comfortable chairs and gilded décor showcased the family’s money, and she wondered what had happened to the people who had once lived here.

Tave let go of her arm and shoved her onto a small couch. She tucked the abused limb to her chest. Heat steadily increased up and down her shoulder and upper arm, proving the damage was significant. At least he hadn’t broken any bones.

Taking a seat across from her, Harto waved his arm in a circle. “You’ll live here until you’ve told us everything you know about Kureto.” His words echoed in the high-ceilinged room, and the sound made Lara realize the room had been ransacked at some point. The larger items were still there, but the smaller, more easily pocketed trinkets were gone. A second scan of the room revealed more signs of theft. Shelves laid vacant. Pockets of walls showed dusty outlines of where mirrors and paintings once hung.

In a small voice, she asked, “Whose home is this?”

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The shimmer of possession in his eyes gave her a bad feeling. Harto tilted his head back to look around the room as if taking it in for the first time. Who knows, perhaps he was. A male servant knocked once on the door before entering the room, balancing a tray. He hovered along the wall, waiting for Harto’s command.

Scowling at the terrified man, Tave growled, “If you don’t get over here, I will have your head.”

A whimper escaped the servant. Lara was surprised he didn’t trip and fall in his haste to close the distance. With trembling fingers, he laid out the light repast.

As if the interruption never occurred, Harto said with a sneer, “It is mine, bequeathed to me to do with as I wish while here in this city. You are my guest.”

A guest, right. More like a prisoner. Did he really think she was an idiot? Did he believe she was blind to the veiled, and not so veiled, threats hanging in the air? Even if she didn’t see the man’s calculation in every move he made, her body screamed warnings with every breath she took.

She watched him pick up a cracker and bite into it. His eyes roved over her body as he chewed. For the life of her, Lara’s gaze was caught in his snare. Swallowing, he said, “A servant will take you to a room where you can rest.” He glanced at Tave. “Have a guard stationed outside her door.”

Switching to their native tongue, Harto continued, “I must speak with Councilor Tair about what we’ve learned. Depending on his orders, I’ll return later this evening. My liege may be interested enough to meet her himself, but it will take a few days to clear his schedule. If he follows his usual pattern, I’m certain he is quite busy at the moment.”

Tave bowed and said, “Do you need me?”

Harto swiped another cracker off the platter. “No, take time to familiarize yourself with this building. Gather information about the servants. I won’t have unrest in this place, even if we are only here for a short time. Keep a weapon on you at all times.”

“Always,” Tave vowed. He left the room without a backward glance. Lara wrapped her hands around her arms. How long would it take for this Tair to demand her presence? A day or two at most?

A short time later, a young woman entered the room. “Milady, if you will follow me?”

When Harto took another bite without shooting a glance in her direction, Lara rose without a word and followed the woman. She paid close attention to the corners they took, memorizing the basic layout of the house. She expected a cell; instead, the servant brought her to a room meant for the lady of the house. Full of lace and fragile trinkets, the warriors who pillaged the house had left this one alone, shying away from the femininity inherent in every inch of the room.

Lara had to admit her own hesitation in entering the room. Compared to her stark living conditions the last untold number of weeks, it was too frilly for her senses. She thought she might gag from all the lace. As she took in the room, the door shut behind her, and she whirled around. She was alone at last.

Lara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

Checking her shield, her heart sank, and the small amount of calm she’d bolstered crumbled to dust particles. Tattered beyond recognition, the shield was held together by thin slivers. Lara had to escape before she lost her ability to reason, though she didn’t hold much hope of succeeding. From the little she’d seen, the city was on lockdown. The few Pyrannis running errands were shells of their former selves. Help would not come from that quarter.

Lara pressed her head against the door. It took a few minutes, but then she heard a small shuffle on the other side. She was well and truly trapped in this room. Tiptoeing backward, she held her breath until she stood in the middle of the bedroom. After a quick sweep of the entire room, she started in one corner and did a thorough search of every part of the room.

First, she’d search for a weapon, but if she came up empty, she’d create her own. Lara made a mental note of the table legs, the mirrors, and curtain rods. It’d take some ingenuity on her part, but she was certain they’d hurt or even kill someone if used right.

A soft knock on her door made her leap up from where she crawled on all fours. Sucking in a breath to steady her nerves, she called out, “Come in.”

The same woman who’d brought her to the room carried in a tray of food. The woman’s downcast eyes never lifted, and movement from the hall reminded Lara they weren’t alone.

She approached the table with the tray, startling the servant. Trying to put her at ease, Lara murmured, “Thank you for the food.”

The other woman never said a word, not even a flicker of emotion crossed her face. But her fear dug into Lara’s skin. No help would come from the servants of the household. Their terror was too deep; their quest to survive overpowered any other thoughts.

The door closed behind the woman, leaving Lara alone once more. The aroma of the food made her stomach growl its hunger, and Lara ate standing up, scanning the room while she inhaled the meal. Although simple fare, it tasted more like the food she’d eaten on Earth than in Kureto. Picking up the cup, she drank the cool water with a sigh.

She stared at the bed, disgruntled that the woman didn’t have any hidden weapons to protect herself. Granted, the woman had probably been sheltered her entire life.

Even so, Lara ran her hands beneath the pillows. She tore the blankets off the bed. Next, she lay down on the floor and looked under the bed.

Huh. Perhaps the woman hadn’t felt safe after all. Under the slats beneath the mattress, a knife hilt poked out.

Grinning, she wiggled the knife from its hiding spot and rolled out from beneath the bed, the weapon clutched in her hand. Turning it over, she unknotted the tie on the sheath and pulled the blade out. It wasn’t large, but it fit her hand as if made for her.

Now, where to hide it.

Looking down at her clothes, Lara grimaced. She could slide the knife into her boot, but the shoes from Earth were made to lace past her ankles, giving them support while hiking rough terrain.

Okay, since that wasn’t going to work, she needed the right set of clothes.

After she reopened the trunk that stored the woman’s clothes, she studied the contents, dragging them out one by one. The bulky skirts would hinder her ability to move, but they’d hide more than one weapon with ease.

Putting the knife down, she hefted a mirror off the wall, almost dropping it as she staggered over to the bed. Who knew a mirror could weigh so much? Lara blew some of her hair out of her face. Wrapping it in several layers of blankets, she first lowered it to the floor, then lifted her foot.

As soon as her boot broke the mirror, she froze, listening, waiting to see whether the guard outside her door heard the noise.

Her heart slowed its racing when the door didn’t budge.

Carefully she unfolded the blankets and removed several of the larger pieces of glass. After that, she cut strips off one of the blankets before storing the other blankets and glass in the trunk, hiding it from curious eyes. Wrapping and tying off the knots, she hefted the pieces of glass with no small amount of pride. Lara now had protection against the sharp glass if she held it where she’d wrapped the cloths.

Crude, but effective.

She strapped two of them to her left thigh and the last one to her other leg. The material from her pants should keep the glass from cutting her. Lara walked the length of the room for good measure. Satisfied she wouldn’t hurt herself, she turned her attention toward the different table legs. She needed a club that wasn’t too long or too heavy.

Finding what looked like a coffee table—though she doubted it was how Pyrannis used it, she ran over to it and flipped it over after setting the combs and other breakables on the floor. Her mouth pursed. This was becoming a habit. Thankfully, this time, her feet weren’t bleeding and were protected by her boots, making it easy to break the table leg. Hefting her newest club, Lara grinned and swung the piece of wood back and forth. With the last strip of material, she tied the makeshift club alongside the single shiv to her thigh. Feeling safer than she had in a long time, she let loose a quiet sigh.

Standing taller, she turned her attention back to the dresses with a frown. Now that she was armed, she needed to choose an outfit. Lara chose a dark blue one, thinking it’d help her hide in the shadows.

If she made it to the street.

Lara huffed when she looked down at herself after throwing on the dress. Apparently even Pyranni women were taller than her.

A long yawn caught her by surprise. She was running on fumes and needed sleep.

She froze, staring at the door, weighing the need for rest against the need to escape. A second yawn popped her jaws open. She was too tired to attempt an escape today despite the driving need to leave this evil place behind. Lara had to be smart and reserve her strength for when a chance arose.

She shook her head, praying she made the right choice. After finishing cutting off several inches from the bottom of the dress with the knife, she threw it back on and curled up on the bed. Lara thrust the knife under her pillow but gnawed on her lip. Could she reach it in time if they came for her? If she was asleep, there’d be no time. Lara pushed the blade up her sleeve instead.

She fell asleep with the solid weight of the knife pressed against her forearm.