'Emily, is that you?' Lewis breathed, afraid that somehow, no matter how far away Tristan was, he would know. He had no idea how long it had been since he had last felt her presence in Oria.

Emperor El-Farah had bowed to Tristan on sight, swearing his allegiance and that of his kingdom without a second thought. Satisfied, Tristan had allowed him to proclaim it to the people of Oria before, and as soon as they were behind closed doors, he had demanded the Dewdrop Jewels from him. The moment of hesitation had left Emperor El-Farah gutted like a fish in the hallway of his own palace by George, at Tristan's command. Hesitation had cost him his life, just like Edmund. Out of fear, Dhaahir assumed his father's position, following Tristan's commands.

'I'm here,' she whispered back. 'Where are you?'

'I don't know. We left Oria and went north; I don't know how far. I assumed they were heading for Arcadia, but I never saw the ruins of the city or anything. All there was out there was a single building, not much bigger than the cabin in Fir Forest,' he said. He had been desperately trying to recall the details, but from the moment they crossed the threshold, his memory had been fuzzy.

Time had all melded into one. Whatever he had been trapped inside, a sarcophagus, as George referred to it, seemed not to respect the laws of time. He hadn't slept, as he didn't get tired. He hadn't eaten because he hadn't been hungry, not that they had offered him anything anyway. He had simply been trapped, forced to watch on in silence as Tristan had led George and Russell north.

Finally, after who knows how long stuck in a dark room, the sarcophagus around him has turned to black sand cascading from around him. He was completely alone and stood in a circular stone room with no bed or furniture of any description, just a heavy iron door with thick bars over a small window in it.

'Is there anything outside the door?' Emily's voice asked.

'You can see what I'm seeing?' he asked. 'How?'

'I don't know; Thomas thinks it might be some sort of seer power that I've managed to tap into somehow. I'm not sure, though; Lillian said she had never been able to do anything like this with her seer abilities. Are you okay?'

'Surviving. Barely, but surviving,' Lewis said.

'What's he doing to you?'

'I don't know. Sometimes he just comes and talks. Other times, it's like being back at the tower again. These chains,' he said, holding up his wrists in front of himself so that she could see the heavy black chains. 'They're almost the same. All he has to do is think about it, and they burn or constrict if I refuse to answer him. Then he heals the wounds, just to do it again. Over and over again.'

'What does he want from you?' Emily asked. 'I'm sure we can manage even if he has what he's after. It's not worth all this suffering.'

'It is. I've got no choice,' he replied, turning away from the door and walking to the far side of the room, where he put his back to the wall, sliding to the ground. 'If I give him what he wants, then we lose everything. He wants to create a new crux for himself by using me. Giving in would mean I die.'

Emily was silent. Unconsciously, he could feel himself trembling. Was it him, or was it a part of her feeding into him? 'It gets worse; if he has a crux of his own, there will be no stopping him from walking beyond the veil. For now, he is relying on others to do some of the work for him. If he goes beyond the veil, not only is he planning on killing the goddess of death, but he said he'll be able to reach the baby, no matter where we are.'

'We're coming for you. He's not going to hurt you anymore, and we won't let him hurt our baby, I promise,' Emily said fiercely.

Before he could respond, there was a low rumble beyond the cell he was being held in. 'I don't know if he'll be able to sense you or not, but you should probably go; someone is coming. If you make it here, watch out for the shadows; they're everywhere.'

'We'll get you out of there, I promise,' she repeated.

He had no idea if she was still there, watching in silence, but he held on to her words. It had felt like weeks since he had been shut away here with no company aside from his own thoughts and occasionally Tristan. The rumbling beyond the door grew louder; black smoke seeped under the iron door, drifting across the floor towards him. Every time he came to pay Lewis a visit, this happened: towering, faceless guards made of shadow entered the room first.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Slowly, the shadows rose up, looping tendrils of smoke reaching out, coiling around his arms and legs, holding him down. The door groaned as it opened, and Tristan stood in the doorway, gazing down on him. 'I see you are ready to begin already,' he said, his voice emotionless.

Taking Lewis' shirt where it had been ripped days ago, he opened it to reveal his torso. The muscle had lost its definition and was now clinging to his bones. He hadn't eaten since before they had entered the waypoint beneath the castle, and he didn't ever feel hungry, but now he could see the effects it was having on him—his body wasting away. 'Have you given any thought to our previous conversations? I would hope so, seeing as there isn't anything else for you to do here.'

'You won't succeed; they'll fight you at every turn,' he replied, watching as a radiant silver scalpel appeared between Tristan's fingers. Lewis winced as he cut into his torso, a trickle of blood spilling out as Tristan held the cut open with the back of the blade. Using a slender finger, he reached inside and coaxed a piece of gold from beneath Lewis' skin.

At first, Lewis had no idea what he was doing, expecting it to be some sort of torture, but as the days passed, he realised that Tristan was cutting the Spiritbound Stone he had bonded with out of him. Tristan ignored his words. 'This would be a lot easier if you would relinquish your bond with the stone,' he said. 'It would save you a lot of pain.'

'This is nothing,' Lewis said. The corner of Tristan's mouth twitched.

'Arden used to walk about with bravado like yourself; where is he now?'

'Dead,' Lewis replied. 'But not before he sent you beyond the veil first.'

'I'm glad he was able to hold on to that as his last thought before he died. I didn't pass beyond the veil, though,' Tristan said, cutting and plucking another shard of the stone from beneath Lewis' skin. 'I did come close, and Ilborh reached out to me, trying to pry me from this world, but I fought back. It'll take more than Arden Vandemark to send me into the arms of that bitch! Soon, she won't be taking anyone into The Fade. Don't worry, I'll make sure the last one into her arms before I destroy her is you or the child when I cut them from their mother's womb.'

'You won't lay a finger on Emily or our child; I'll make sure of that,' Lewis spat, pulling against the shadows that kept him restrained.

'And how do you propose to do that? Don't forget, you are here, alive only at my mercy, for now,' Tristan asked. 'For all you know, they are both already dead, or are the voices in your head trying to convince you otherwise?'

'I don't believe you,' Lewis said. Did he know about the connection he had with Emily? Was it possible that she was still here, watching silently, and he could sense her?

'Why would you? Here, let me show you,' Tristan said, nodding to one of the shadows. The ribbons that held him down were relinquished, fresh ones spreading from the shadow that stood on the other side of him to take their place.

The shadow that had released him crouched at his side. On the featureless face, two pupils burned bright white. It leaned in close to him, and Lewis found himself trying to hold his breath. He heard screams echoing in his mind as his gaze was captured in the blinding eyes and the shadow drifted closer, tiny wisps of it pulling away, filling his nose and mouth.

His vision went blurry, as though someone had lit a fire right in front of him. Tristan's face sat beyond the smoke, a twisted grin on his face. The screams grew louder and louder as he tried to pull his hands from the restraints to cover his ears. Tristan's face faded away, and it was replaced by Emily's, her skin a cold porcelain spattered with a blood-red mist.

She writhed on the floor, her scream desperate and unending. On the floor beside her, covered in blood, was a foetus, tiny and unmoving. He felt her screams piercing his mind like a thousand white, hot needles. Her screams melded with his own as he stared blankly at the scene before him.

'I'm so grateful to Tristan for allowing it to be me. After all those years walking around under Sebastian's wing, pretending you're better than the rest of us, you're nothing,' George whispered as he crouched beside her, a gleaming, bloodstained dagger in his hand. He thrust the dagger into her chest, driving it in as deep as he could with a twist. 'If only you had been a little nicer, you could have walked beside us and ruled this world.'

'I might not get my hands on Lewis, but at least I've got this one to keep me company for a while until I get bored,' he said, grabbing a fist full of black hair and dragging an unconscious Robyn through the pool of blood that separated Emily and the foetus. With a rack, he smacked her across the face with the back of his hand, stirring her. 'Wakey wakey, I think it's time you and I got a little better acquainted,' he hissed, slamming her head against the floor. He held the dagger against her throat with one hand, ripping her shirt with the other.

'No, no more,' Lewis breathed. With a deafening bang, the vision he could see exploded, replaced by an intrigued Tristan beyond the smoke once more. He smiled, the grin spreading in a sickeningly unnatural way.

'Interesting,' Tristan muttered. He looked at someone out of sight. Whether it was the shadow guard or someone else, Lewis didn't know. 'Keep him in the shadows; he's yours to contain for now until I have need of him. break him; do what you need to.'

There was no reply to Tristan's order. Instead, the smoke thickened, almost completely obscuring him from view as he retreated towards the door. One of the shadow guards appeared before him, the piercing white eyes locking with his through the smoke, and he was thrown back to the bloodstained floor, surrounded by unmoving bodies, Emily and the foetus at the centre. Over and over, he saw the dagger plunge into Emily's chest, with George at the other end of the grip.

The screams echoed through his mind, prying further and further into it with each one, the thread breaking each time. With each broken thread, a fraction of the detail in the background disappeared, until all he was left with was the darkness, Emily's haunting screams, and the sight of the blade piercing her flesh with a gout of blood.

It never ended, not even for a second, the same moment over and over and over.