Ner sighs. Orion answers for him, instead. “The ones who made it probably serve in Borean homes,” he says, his voice a growl. “The rest died down here. Most species wouldn’t be able to survive these cold, dark passages. This would be hard work, too; even with excellent tools, this ice is almost unbreakable.”
“So where are these people?”
“Everywhere, Fiona,” Orion says.
“He’s right,” Ryker growls. He’s angry—fuck, he always sounds angry lately—but there’s something else there. Something likefear. I don’t like it at all. “You’ve just been focusing on what’s ahead instead of what’s all around us.”
I swoop my light over the glass, my fingers tightening around me when I see what he’s talking about. Skulls line the wall, frozen in midair like grotesque hanging artwork. There are bodies of creatures I don’t recognize too—bending down and halfway through work. I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like, but I don’t think they’re supposed to look likethis.
Eyes wide, their skin peeled back, their eyebrows raised. The panic written all over their faces is tinted with pain.
And there are so many of them, one behind another, tumbling up and down in blocks of people like a butterfly collection. Except this isn’t careful. This isn’t done for beauty and research—this is cruel.
No. Evil. It’s evil.
“Why wouldn’t they just take them down?” I ask, my voice shaking. We’re still walking. Despite everything, I need to keep walking, I need to keep going ahead. It doesn’t matter how badly I want to balk and run back to the Wrath.
I never expected this to be pleasant.
I guess I just didn’t realize I would be this scared.
“Why would they?” Orion says. “This will deter anyone who tries to escape, if their minds haven’t already been broken by the Boreans.”
I shudder, the chill settling all over my body suddenly far worse than the arctic air surrounding us. My gaze searches for Ner, who puts a steady hand at the small of my back. He inches closer to me. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” I say. “Maybe we should turn back.”
“You have good instincts, Fiona,” he says. “You need to learn to trust yourself.”
“You don’t think this is a bad idea?”
He furrows his brow. “Maybe,” he says. “But I trust you. And I’ll be right behind you. We all will.”
He flashes me a tight smile, and I believe him.
I guess I can trust that he’ll follow me into hell. Even if it’s frozen over.
I just need to make sure I can follow through.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
KYE
I fucking hate being in Hyperborean airspace, and Borealis is even worse. I’ve only been here once before, under Lamia’s command, and I remember how much more cruel than usual she was.
It was a game. There were other enslaved people here, and each Hyperborean tried to one up each other. I remember their laughter—except it wasn’t like human laughter, but rather, a ringing in my ears, something I could feel like a pressure headache pushing down between my eyebrows, making it hard for me to think.
I tried so hard to fight it, but it was impossible.
There’s no way to fight one of these beings.
I’m glad I’m staying in the Wrath when Fiona is on this fool’s errand, but I can't help but worry about her. It doesn’t matter how much training the Skoll and the Mlok have put her through, Fiona is just a person. I don’t know how being able to disarm an opponent is going to help Fiona win when it comes to sorcery.
“You look pensive,” Gliss says as she slumps down on the chair next to me. She looks exhausted, the snakes on her head slumping down like heavy braids as she does. “I did what you asked me to. The power of the ship has been funneled into hyperdrive, so that you can just press a button and get us away from Hyperborean space. The Wrath won’t handle like the Naiad, but it’ll do the trick.”
“Thanks, Gliss.”
“I’d try to avoid it,” she says. “The ship isn’t suitable for quick hops through hyperspace, even with the modifications I made. The Wrath is built for steady spacefaring and…well, blowing things up.”
“Not for escaping, huh?”