LUNA
Sebastian pulled the black handle, the only part of the door that wasn’t made of molten silver, and an arctic air struck me. Twin scents of dust and decay assaulted my senses, and black shimmering stones that seemed to absorb the light were everywhere.
Death reigned in this horrible place.
My heart pounded, and I tightened my grip on the lantern. The hallway in front of us was long and winding, but there weren’t any doors in sight.
Metal zinged as Sebastian withdrew his sword, holding it aloft as he led us into the black-walled corridor. I followed close behind, not wanting to get left behind in this place that reeked of death.
“What kinds of stones are these?” I asked as the black floor swallowed the sounds of our footsteps.
I eyed them carefully, but unlike in the tunnels, I kept my hands to myself. There was nothing about this place that made me want to touch anything. It was like walking through a pit of hell.
We turned a corner, and Sebastian replied, “It’s prohiberis. The stone is mined in Ithenmyr.”
I raised a brow. I had never heard of prohiberis before. “What does it do?”
He paused. “It can block magic.”
Nowthatwas interesting. The academic in me was grateful for the distraction, and I eyed the black stones as we passed a moaning male, lying prostrate on the cot in his silver-lined cell. There must have been some type of mineral within the stone that had anti-magical properties.
“Does it block blood magic as well?” I asked as we turned down yet another corridor, this one darker than the rest.
“It does,” he confirmed.
What kind of prisoners were kept down here that had to have their magic stripped? The question came to the tip of my tongue, but then I decided that I probably didn’t want to know.
Instead, I asked, “What does the prohiberis feel like?”
Sebastian frowned. “Being around prohiberis, even for a few moments, feels like denying a part of yourself. Like there is a wide, gaping hole within you.” A shudder ran through him. “But it needs to be done.”
At least now I knew why he had the sword.
Soon, it was so dark even the violet light from my lantern did little to push away the darkness. By the time Sebastian came to a stop in front of a silver door that looked like it was formed from a dull, thick mirror, I lost all sense of time.
Letting go of my hand and pulling out the keys, Sebastian paused. His back was straight, and the tension coming off him was so thick, I could taste it. “Remember your promise, Luna.”
“I remember,” I said softly. I had no training. No weapons. Sometimes, the best course of action was simply staying alive. And this place, where the scurrying of rats added to the horrible symphony of pain coming through the walls, was not one I wanted to stay any longer than necessary. “I’ll run if you tell me.”
“Good,” he said gruffly.
The jingling of keys filled the air, and soon, the lock clicked. The mirrored silver door swung open, and I gulped. Sebastian went in first, and I quickly followed. I really didn’t like the idea of standing outside in the dark corridor all on my own.
As soon as the door slipped shut behind me, I cursed Ciro anew. This was not the type of place I ever wanted to go.
Darkness enveloped me, the light of my lantern doing little to push it away. My heart pounded as I took in the small space. It was worse than I imagined.
The vampire prince stood in front of me, his body taking up much of the long, thin black cell that was the size of a closet. It was barely big enough for one person, let alone the cot lining one wall and the chamber pot sitting in the opposite corner. The concept of light was foreign. It did not belong in a place like this. The scent of decay was so putrid, I could barely breathe through it.
Then I saw him. A male with waist-length, stringy ash blond hair was curled up in the corner of the cell. Wearing rags and covered in dried blood, a silver chain was wrapped around the male’s middle, matching the ones around his wrists and ankles.
A twinge of pity came to life in my stomach for this prisoner. Surely he did not deserve such harsh treatment. Then his limp head rose, and lifeless black eyes met mine. A snarl escaped his lips.
“So hungry,” he growled, his voice low and guttural.
He came to his feet far faster than I thought possible for such an injured male. Pity gave way to fear as I pressed myself against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest.
The prisoner snarled, the sound vicious and promising violence as he struggled against his bindings. He pulled back his lips, revealing bloody stumps where fangs had once been.