I sleep beneath an enormous down-stuffed comforter. Although—sleep—is an overstatement. Over and over I see Eli standing before me, an arrowhead protruding from his chest, blood pouring forth like a bubbling spring. I wake up in a panic and find myself staring at the ceiling, my mind on everything but sleep.

Ivan is all grown up. What’s more, he is the Commander of thousands. King of a city.

I knew a man named Ivan once.

Eli’s words add fuel to the fire of my fears. I always knew the man Eli mentioned might be my brother, but I let go of the thought after everything that happened with Jol. Decided to let Eli keep his secrets and instead find out on my own. But now, it pounds on me like a hammer.

I toss the sheets away and step for the door, taking the candle with me. Passing long hallways as I explore the castle corridors in the quiet of night.

Halls stretch upward, kissing ivory ceilings lined with marble crown molding. Deep red curtains run from floor to ceiling along one side with a pair of double doors on the other. They open into an enormous library. Never have I seen so many well-kept books in one place since waking up from the stone.

I never read much growing up, preferring sports and late karaoke nights with high school friends. But standing here, having lived without electricity for over a year, I find myself brushing my fingers along the dusty spines with a newfound reverence. In a world without the internet, this is the Internet. The world’s knowledge—no longer held within screens and blinking lights but hidden behind paper and ink.

I’m reminded of Eli digging through those libraries. He would spend hours combing the tombs for ‘the useful ones’. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what Eli would have been. He’s smart. Smarter than me. When he reads a book he remembers everything as if the pages eternally exist under his nose.

Would he have been a scientist? Engineer? Maybe a top athlete. Or all three. Instead, this world turned him into something very different. It’s a shame. Even still, it seems the brilliant things in life find a way to shine even if lost in the mud of the world.

I slip a few books from the shelf and walk to a stuffed leather chair, curling up on the seat. I light a lamp and pull the book close. For the next several minutes—or hours, I’m not sure which—I lose myself in a world behind these paper pages. A fantasy world of elves and hobbits and dwarves leaves me entranced. Thomas would love this, it would make an excellent addition to his collection; I’ll have to bring him here. When the black sky outside lights with the faintest shades of deep blue, I decide to put the book down.

Abandoning the library, I continue my exploration into the castle garden, following a narrow stone path around the side to the front entrance. But on my way, I notice a path cutting off from the main road leading to an underground entrance into the side of the castle. Ivan took me on a tour last night after dinner but he never showed me what’s down that way. I ditch my well-kept path for the depressing dirt one and stop before a thick, solid-looking door, heavy and studded with pitted iron. The sort used to keep people out.

Or in.

Pushing it open proves to be a difficult feat. It must be made of equal parts metal and wood but inside the dimly lit space, I am met by a pair of guards standing on either side of locked gated doors. Beyond them, I can make out a hallway lined with several cells. It takes two seconds to put the pieces together.

A prison?

The guards look as startled as I feel. They shift in unison as I approach with wary steps. Of course, a city as big as this would have a prison but for some reason, the realization that Ivan has a prison shakes me to my very core. My little brother has a prison. Suddenly I must know more. I must get inside. See the prisoners.

“Hello.” I greet the guard on the right.

He exchanges an apprehensive look with his fellow and responds in silence as if I were some wild raccoon who wandered in to disturb their peace.

“I would like to go inside.”

They give me darting glances but keep their mouths shut and faces pointed ahead. I suppose avoidance is always the safest option. Except not here. Not with me. I dig my foot in and set my jaw.

“Do you know who I am?” I ask the question sincerely though they seem to take it as some kind of threat. The discomfort between them rockets skyward as if I held a knife to each of their throats.

“You’re the Commander’s sister,” the one on the left says.

“I am.” My attention turns to him. “So will you let me in?”

Some unseen battle rages between them. They are young, younger than me by a few years.

“No one is allowed in without expressed permission from Captain Jaxon.” the one on the right says.

“What about the Commander?”

“Well, that’s… Of course, the Commander can come and go as he pleases.”

“And the Commander’s sister?”

Again they exchanged uneasy glances. My guess says there is no protocol for anyone’s sister, let alone the sister of this city’s equivalent of a king.

The one on the left says, “If you go in…you can’t speak with any of the prisoners.”

I nod, holding my breath as he turns to unlock the first of two gated doors. The other guard frowns something fierce but just watches as I am led through the checkpoint. Once inside, he leads me down a long hallway lined with cells. On the left, I see three familiar faces. Or rather, semi-familiar faces. Each one is beaten to a pulp with eyes swollen shut and broken noses between them. Missing teeth too. But Blackbeard is a face I will never forget. The other man who once swung a baseball bat now slumps unconscious in the corner and the third crouches with his back to the world. Blackbeard slams his body into the door of his cell, eyes wild and desperate.

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“You! You’re his sister. Tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t know, okay? I’m—”

The guard whacks the bars of the cell with a baton, cutting him off. “Quiet! You do not speak to her.”

I turn away. The hallway suddenly seems much smaller than moments before.

“Who did this to them?” I ask the guard,

He frowns but doesn’t answer.

“Were they like that when they arrived?”

“No.”

Ivan. My brother did this. Or at least he is responsible.

I feel no surprise. Just disappointment. Not that they don’t deserve it, but my little brother should not be the one to have done that. Not Vanny. Now it makes sense why the guards are so apprehensive around me. They aren’t scared of me. They’re scared of Ivan. Of what he would do to them because of me. And maybe they should be; it would seem I know far less about my brother than I once did. The thought chills me.

Something a couple of cells down catches my eye and I approach with caution. Who else does Ivan have locked up down here?

My jaw drops when I see who it is.

“Thomas?”

He sits up and turns to face me. It’s dark but even in the dim light, I make out his disbelief.

“Natasha?”

I rush over but a hand grabs my arm, holding me back. Something about that moment sends me back. Maybe it’s the tightness of the grip or the sudden fear twisting inside as I realize not all is right with my brother but my mind travels back in time to that moment with the chief. He’s gripping my arm and slapping me until the world spins. Then I feel his body on top of mine. Suffocating. Then the blood. My heart staggers and the breath is swept from my lungs. I tear my arm free but stumble and hit the ground.

I focus on breathing. It takes an embarrassingly long time before I can speak again. The guard watches with round eyes, white as a sheet. Terrified.

“I-I’m sorry” he stutters.

“I’m fine.” I swallow hard and stare the guard down. My past is hardly his fault. “But this is my friend. He’s not supposed to be down here and I’m not leaving until I speak with him.”

He seems torn for a moment but then he surrenders, turning his back to wait nervously.

I look at Thomas. “What are you doing down here? What happened?”

“Are you okay?” His brows scrunch up in concern.

I attempt a smile. “I’m fine. We all have our ghosts. Now tell me what happened.”

As he edges over to me I look him over. No signs of abuse at least but the bags under his eyes and unkempt, ruffled clothes tells me he spent the night down here.

“Did my brother put you down here?” I ask.

He doesn’t reply but he doesn’t have to.

“Why? The others, I understand,” to an extent. “But you have been nothing but good to me. He should be thanking you, not throwing you in prison.”

“You forget I never reported what happened.”

I glance behind me at the bruised and beaten men. Ivan must have hunted them down yesterday after dinner. But how did he even know about what happened in the first place? I never said a word.

“I’ll fix this. There must be a mistake.”

Thomas gives me a sad look. “It’s okay, Natasha. I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“No, it’s not. You’re only here because of me. This is wrong and I’m going to fix it.”

The guards seem relieved as I step past them and by the time I make it out of the prison the sun peeks over the horizon, filling the sky with light. Billowing clouds stretch high into the sky. Back in the castle, I stop before Ivan’s room where more guards block the door.

“I need to speak with my brother.”

They glance at each other before turning unblinking eyes my way, refusing to budge. I feel like I’m talking to robots and my frustration mounts.

“At least tell him I’m out here.”

“Miss Volkov.” A voice says from behind.

I startle at the sound of my surname and turn to see a dusty-brown-haired man about my age walking up beside me. I recognize him instantly as the man from my first day. He helped me find The Pheasant’s Roost. Now, up close I get a better look at him. He stands just shy of Eli’s height and his copper eyes easily hold my own with austerity. His build matches my brother’s: tall, fit, and carved of bold edges, but he has softer eyes. If he recognizes me, he doesn’t let it show.

He glances at the guards and they part as one, letting the doors swing wide. My brother stands in front of a giant window, buttoning up his shirt. He turns and his brows raise when his eyes settle on me.

“Natasha. I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

“I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.” I nod at his bruised, swollen knuckles, “You were busy last night.”

Surprise gives way to indifference and he turns his back to me, shrugging on a coat. “They broke our laws.”

“I thought banishment was the punishment for causing a fight, not getting your face bashed in like a rotten tomato.”

“So you do recognize them.”

I bite my tongue with a scowl. His mind is quick like a whip and stings about just as bad.

“They’re hardly recognizable.” I close my eyes. “How did you even know what happened in the first place?”

“I know what it feels like to have your ribs broken. The way you move, the way your breath catches, it gave you away.” He fixes his collar and then his sleeves. “So I looked into it and it wasn’t hard to find what happened.” A fire burns behind those eyes with his next words. “And who was responsible.”

“I don’t need you to avenge me, Vanny. I don’t want you to.”

“It’s not about vengeance.”

“Then what is it about? Because for the life of me, I cannot fathom why Thomas is down there.”

He waves me off, “Thomas will be let out in three days,” he says, brushing past as though the conversation had already ended.

“Three days? He shouldn’t be down there at all. He saved my life and this is how you repay him?”

He pauses at the doorway, addressing the man beside me, “Jaxon. Keep her out of trouble.”

The gall of this man who calls himself my brother. Treating me like a child who needs a babysitter. My hands tighten to fists by my sides. I glance at Jaxon—the dusty brown-haired man who the guards parted for. So this is the ‘Captain Jaxon’ everyone keeps mentioning. His eyes flicker down to me before returning to Ivan who’s already walking down the hall.

“Wait.” I chase after Ivan, touching his arm. “I’m sorry.” I bite the words out and take a breath. “It’s just, Thomas has been nothing but kind to me since the moment I arrived. I hate to see him down there.”

The tenseness in Ivan’s jaw eases but he keeps his gaze ahead. “I’ll see what I can do about Thomas.”

He pulls away and I watch him leave, swallowing bitter disappointment. Eli would have heard me out. My own brother on the other hand…

“What would you like to do, Miss Volkov?”

The man, Jaxon, asks from my left.

I glance up to meet copper eyes, “it’s Captain Jaxon, right? You work for my brother?”

He nods.

“I want you to tell me about him.”