I thought the stench in the corridor leading to the cells had been awful, but the odor in the bowels of the palace prison was enough to make me wish for blissful oblivion. It was all the worst parts of being alive—the sweat and blood and feces—mingling with death and decay. My neighbor to the left had not moved once in the hours since I'd woken on the icy stone floor, leading me to believe they were deceased and possibly the source of the most rancid smell.

To my right was nothing but a damp wall covered in various insects, all living like kings off flesh and rot. They did not even wait for us to stop moving before climbing up limbs and skittering into the seams of our clothes, but I would welcome a dozen more onto my body if it meant avoiding the bright, beaded eyes glinting in the shadows.

Putting my palms flat on the uneven surface, I pushed myself into a sitting position and turned my head toward the only source of light—a lone sconce attached to the wall across the corridor. The torch's flame dwindled, but it was enough to illuminate the cell in front of mine.

I could tell it was Astreia by her braids and the soft shimmer of her skin. Everything else about her was unrecognizable. Swelling around her eyes made it impossible to tell if she was conscious. They'd bound her arms above her head, and dark, wet streaks ran down to her elbows. Sensing my stare, she shifted, and flakes of dried blood fell from her body like hellish snow.

"As–"

I bit off her name and clawed at my throat as my vocal cords seized up. The pain paralyzed me. Not just to my voice, but to my entire body. Nearly passing out, I struggled to ensure the panting breaths I took were soundless, terrified a vibration would trigger the punishment.

"It's the collar," Astreia croaked, the metal chains binding her to the wall clanking as she moved.

Fingers shaking, I touched the silver band at my throat. I'd forgotten about it. It was so light and innocuous against my skin. Misery in the guise of beauty.

"Are you all right?"

Astreia's simple question sliced through me, and I looked at her with shock. She watched me, and in the darkness, I could see the glittering of her irises between the puffy slits of her eyelids. Scooting closer to the bars, I nodded.

"Good. I am so sorry, Morana." She stopped when my mouth fell open, an exclamation of disbelief almost making it past my lips. "If you'd only told me what you were, I would never have asked you to take part."

I clutched at the collar, digging my nails under it and earning another shot of pain for my efforts. Stupid, cursed thing. It was pointless. I didn't know how to use my voice to harm.

Or... I looked down at my hands. They looked the same as always, though significantly dirtier. Somehow, I'd killed that Warden when I screamed. It was a single, raw, unformed note, and it tore his soul from his body.

Tears pooled in my eyes, stuck to my lashes, and one by one released, dropping to the filthy floor without sound. I was a murderer—an abomination—and my dearest friend in all the world was apologizing to me.

"Tievel is a fool," Astreia continued as I cried. I didn't know if she truly wanted to console me or fill the silence. Either way, I was grateful for the soothing sound of her voice. It helped push back the misery and despair threatening to overtake me.

I shook my head, wishing I could offer a rebuttal. What person wouldn't have been hurt to discover someone they trusted was the creature they hated most in the world. It was the highest form of betrayal.

"He is," my friend continued. She licked her cracked bottom lip, breaking the scab, sending a fresh rivulet of blood down her chin. "If he ever truly cared for you, he would have helped you, but no matter what he thinks, he is his father's tool."

I gripped the bars and pointed at her. She leaned forward, and I scrunched my face in confusion, hoping the darkness did not disguise the movement. Whether she saw me or knew me well enough to know what I was asking, I couldn't be sure, but when she spoke again, her words were an echo of the thoughts running through my mind.

"You want to know why I don't hate you? Why I'm not scared of you? There's something you need to know about me. About my home, and the real reason they destroyed us."

At the end of the corridor, a high pitch squeal erupted, followed by the screech of metal scraping against stone. Then soft arguing punctuated by heel strikes grew louder as two figures approached. I scuttled to the back wall of my cell, both terrified and elated. I would know that voice anywhere.

Tievel stopped directly in front of me, but for a drawn-out moment, he stared straight ahead, his shoulders bunched around his ears and his fists clenched at his sides. The Lord of Terra, Jeromi, alternated between looking at his prince and sneering at me.

"Your Highness," Jeromi said with unusual deference in his voice. "If your father discovers we came down here..."

"He'll what? Kill me?" The prince barked a bitter laugh. Then turned slowly to glare at me. "He could, you know. He has the right tools."

"Tie-"

Fire scorched my insides as soon as I pushed the first syllable of his name through my teeth. Rocking to my knees, I retched, each convulsion causing another jolt of pain until I fell forward. Skin split across my cheekbone, and a hot wetness spread down my face. The agony was so great, I barely registered the creak of a door opening or the pain in my scalp as someone yanked me upright by my hair.

"Do you think I should pity you for the pain this causes you?" Tievel demanded, his face wavering in and out of focus.

Unable to look him in the eyes, I stared at the space just to the left of his head. A single ruby stud pierced the pointed tip of his ear. He wore his hair in varying shades of red, and as I watched, strands flickered between russet and navy—a sure sign his emotions were out of control.

"Let her go," Astreia screamed, then grunted as the smack of bone on flesh echoed through the cells.

"Keep your mouth shut. We're not keeping you alive for your lip," Jeromi growled.

The prince's grip on my face tightened, and he looked over his shoulder. The fog of pain clouding my brain faded enough for me to understand what I was seeing, and a hopeful part of me whispered it was irritation I saw in the lines of Tievel's face. But irritation at Astreia? Or Jeromi?

"Enough," Tievel snapped, releasing me and straightening to his full height. His ears nearly brushed the ceiling. Strange, I'd never noticed how tall he was before. Maybe because I'd never been brought so low?

"We should go," Jeromi said, clamping the lock on Astreia's cell before turning to look at his prince.

"I'm not finished yet."

"Your Highness, what else is there to do?" Jeromi demanded, a twisted expression of delight settling on his features before he finished the question. "I don't suppose you'd like to take turns?"

Horror chilled my bones. With my remaining strength, I hurled myself into the corner and clasped my hands around my body. Surely, Tievel would not be so depraved, but even the princess took Jeromi's suggestion seriously. Her chains rattled as she thrashed to put distance between them.

"I would never–" Tievel stopped and drew the blade attached to his waist.

I leaned forward. Jeromi gurgled and fell, revealing the outline of a sinister figure. Tievel hardly spared his fallen friend a glance, thrusting the blade before him and dropping into a defensive stance, but the newcomer's body language remained lax—almost bored.

I knew who it was before the amber eyes found me in the dimness. The Reaper.

"Put that away before you hurt yourself," he said, wiping his knife against his pants before dropping it in his boot.

"You weren't supposed to kill him," Tievel spit out. My mouth fell open as utter confusion settled over me.

"Perhaps if he hadn't made such a vile suggestion," the Reaper countered, then shrugged as he broke the lock on Astreia's door with his hand. "Relax. He's not dead. Unfortunately, it takes more than a knife to kill a High Elf, and it needs to look like you were kidnapped."

Tievel unlocked the chains binding the Starlight Princess while the Reaper helped me to my feet. The playful light in his eyes was gone, leaving only fury as he raked his gaze over the collar on my neck.

"Get this off her," he demanded, his grip gentle as he helped me to the door.

"You don't make demands of me," Tievel replied even as he did as he was told. Hands shaking, his fingers moved along the silver band, looking for the catch, and there was a slight hesitation before he opened it.

Wheezing, I shoved away from both men and clutched at my throat, drawing noisy gulps of air into my lungs. So many questions rattled in my skull, but when I found my voice, the first one that fell out was, "Why?"

The Reaper said nothing, but I imagined he smirked beneath his cowl. He sank further into the darkness, once more appearing to absorb the surrounding light. Tievel cleared his throat and arched his brow.

"Why what?"

"Why are you freeing me? Why are you helping each other?"

"Would you like to take this one, prince?"

"Does it matter why? Just be grateful," Tievel snapped, snatching at my arm.

My head banged against the stone wall as the Reaper shoved me aside. He pressed a silver dagger against Tievel's neck, pressing so hard he pierced the skin.

"I can't kill you prince.Yet," the Reaper whispered, "But I can make it so you wish you were dead. Need I remind you that without me, your plan would not have worked."

"As much as I enjoy watching someone devour Tievel's pride, we need to get out of here unless this is some particularly cruel form of torture where you let your captives think they're going to escape," Astreia said, sliding between the feuding pair and putting her arms around my shoulders. Already, her eyes looked better—her advanced healing abilities working ceaselessly to restore her health.

The Reaper flipped his knife, caught it by the blade's tip, and pointed behind me. "Push the stone three down from the top and six across from the left. Secret tunnel. It'll take you under the river and deposit you on the far west side, near the Vesper. I'll make sure the king's men go east."

There was something broken in Tievel's gaze as he stared at me. "How do you know him?"

"Go," the Reaper commanded, his cloak gathering around him as he prepared to disappear.

Astreia wasted no time, pressing the designated stone and opening the door to the passage. She went first, then Tievel. His hand stretched out to me before he thought better of it. I hovered, uncertain if following my old friends would lead to salvation or doom, but I didn't have a choice.

"Will you be all right?" I asked the Reaper. It surprised me that I wished he was coming with us.

"Always." His eyes flashed bright in the darkness.

Then he was gone, and I was running toward freedom or death. Anywhere was better than here.