Time slips by. I don't know how much.
Grey comes back a couple times, once to release me from the chair just long enough to allow me to relieve myself, her knife pressed to my throat all the while. In spite of the blade, I take the opportunity to scrape the dried wax from my face with my fingernails. Were it anyone besides her, I would try to wrench the knife from her hands, but I've seen the way she moves. Effortlessly. Without a weapon, I don't stand a chance against her.
The second time she comes, she brings a piece of bread and a glass of water. I devour the bread first, quieting my grumbling stomach. It reminds me of the sort of food I ate before arriving at the castle: plain, flavorless fare that was more than often a little stale. It's comforting, in a way, to be reminded of those simpler times.
After gulping down the water, I ask, "Why is he keeping me alive?"
Grey doesn't answer.
"The prince won't come."
Still, she doesn't speak.
"Grey, please," I beg. "I don't care what he does to me, as long as I have some warning. At least tell me how he's going to do it. Will he let me die in this chair, or will he torture me to death?"
She stares at me for several seconds, eyes glittering in the candlelight. Her pupils are dilated, huge pools of black like a cat's eyes in the darkness. "First, tell me the prince's secret."
This again? "Why is it so important to you?"
"I have my reasons."
"Are you going to tell Victor?"
Grey rolls her eyes. "This isn't about Victor. I don't always answer to him, you know."
I know that Grey has her own agenda. I also know that I'm going to spend what little time I have left fretting over what Victor plans to do to me if she doesn't tell me. That time is better spent preparing for my fate.
"He's a bastard," I say. "His mother wasn't the queen."
"That's what I thought," she murmurs, securing my wrist to the arm of the chair once more.
"You knew?"
"I had my suspicions. I just needed you to confirm it."
"Why was confirming it so important to you, though?"
Grey scowls at me. "You ask too many questions."
"I only have one more: how will Victor kill me?"
"He won't."
I stare at her impenetrable face. "Why not?"
"You're the best disenthraller in Itoria, and he's captured you. Why would he kill you when he could use you instead?"
"He will find me difficult to use." Impossible, really. I would have followed him if circumstances were different, but I refuse to be goaded into it. He can threaten me all he likes; I am no longer interested in joining his underworld. Not if they are in the habit of treating people the way he has treated me.
I am better off on my own. I always have been. Agreeing to help him in the first place is what ruined the perfection I worked towards for so long. What's the use in a shadow stealer who is plagued by her own shadows? I can thank both Victor and Adrian for that.
"Everyone has fears," Grey reminds me. "It would be a mistake to believe that Victor can't pry yours from your captive tongue. Remember whose palm you're sitting in right now."
"Yours," I tell her. "Release me, Grey, and you and I can take down the prince before Victor ever has the chance."
She blinks and falls silent as she considers my offer. But she never has the chance to give me her assent, for, at that moment, Victor descends the ladder and strides towards me at a slow, menacing pace. My heart rate increases with every step he takes, and I despise myself for having such a strong reaction to him. His power is inordinate, and I am no exception to it.
He stands before me with a long knife in his right hand. It glitters in the light of the candelabra clutched in his other hand, which flickers despite the lack of moving air in the room.
"I want you to pledge your allegiance to me, Shadow Thief," he says. His voice is low and menacing: this is a demand, not a request.
I wonder if my agreement will prompt him to untie my hands. "What will you give me in return?"
He chuckles. "You are in no position to bargain with me, Nyx. Give yourself over to me, and you'll have everything you could ever wish for."
I wish for Adrian. "Kill me instead."
"I won't kill such a rare talent."
I know that there's no chance of him releasing me, so I decide to plead for another's life while I have the opportunity. "Free Morwen, then, and I'll consider it."
There's an amused wryness in his voice when he says, "You're still concerned about that worthless servant girl?"
"Yes."
He shakes his head as he sets down his light. "I can make you forget everything, Nyx. Isn't that what you want?"
Before I can ask him what he means, he slides his mask up just enough to uncover his mouth. He presses it to mine, and though it sparks something to life in the base of my stomach, the roughness of his touch is so vastly different from the tenderness of Adrian's that it unsettles me.
I forget nothing. It only makes me think of Adrian, of how firm but gentle he was, how his touch alone frightened all the shadows away. Victor's touch brings them roaring to life, clawing at me as I am reminded of all the wrong I've done, all the mistakes I've made, and all that I've lost.
I struggle against him, but he holds my face steady, unrelenting in his embrace. When he finally pulls away, I am gasping for breath, choking on the overpowering scent of bergamot that coats the inside of my lungs.
"You could be mine, Nyx," he growls. "Together, we would be unstoppable. You could turn anyone and everyone into my puppet, and we would rule Itoria together."
"A reign of terror," I say. I want no part in his scheme. Not anymore. Not after I have witnessed what Adrian is like behind closed doors, when he isn't lashing out against his father or being the charming, debonair prince that everyone expects him to be. I have witnessed his kindness and compassion, his generosity and humbleness. I have seen him in secret, when he is trying to impress no one. Now I know what sort of man he truly is: one who cares for his family, is patient with his people, and is concerned for those around him.
He would make a great king.
Victor pushes his mask back into place, hiding his twisted scowl. "You are much too stubborn. But I have methods of rectifying that."
The blade of his knife presses against my right wrist, cutting deep enough to break the skin. A thin line of blood appears, thin as a sheet of parchment. It stings, but the pain barely registers.
"This is a sorry attempt to frighten me," I say defiantly.
"This?" He chuckles. "This is your reminder that you only need one hand to steal shadows."
Victor raises his knife. I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my face away, bracing myself for the pain. But it never comes. A new voice speaks instead, sending fresh hope flooding into my body. It's an intoxicating feeling, after the hopelessness of late.
"I believe you've been expecting me."
My eyes fly open and I see him, Adrian, standing at the foot of the ladder. Two of Victor's soldiers, clad entirely in black and with their faces masked, stand behind him with their swords drawn. Even so, Adrian is unperturbed. His manner is calm, his face neutral, and his hands are folded behind his back as though he sees no threat whatsoever in his current situation.
"The king of Itoria," Victor snarls, turning away from me. "I knew you'd come."
It feels as though my heart might burst from my chest. "Adrian," I whisper.
He winks at me, then fixes all of his attention on Victor. "I've heard of you," he says. "The Lord of the Underworld, they call you. It's said that you sent an assassin after my father three months ago, an undertaking that ultimately failed. Some also believe that you somehow infected him with the plague, but I know well that he died of consumption."
The memory of my lack of sympathy for Adrian following the death of his father makes me shrink deeper into my seat. I was abominably heartless, yet he has returned to save me. It's far more than I deserve.
Victor's eyes flash. "Have you not heard of my greater schemes? Your weaponless city guard, perhaps, or the freed insurrectionists?"
"Those incidents must have escaped my notice," Adrian says with a cheeky grin.
"But not this one," Victor snarls, gesturing towards me. "Do you have any idea who this girl is? Why she came to your castle in the first place? She is no niece of the Duchess of Vaelune."
Adrian nods curtly. "She came to take my life."
I can't help but gape at him. How long has he known? Why did he allow me to be alone with him, if he thought that I might pose some danger to his life? Has he suspected me the whole time?
"Yet you came to save her," says Victor.
"Can I help that she breathed life into my hollow existence?" he asks, glancing towards me. "Death is a risk worth taking, when love so consumes you."
Love? What does he mean by love?
Victor narrows his eyes. "You have walked into the mouth of the lion."
"It's fortunate, then, that I brought my sword."
"Not that you'll be able to make much use of it." Victor slices away the ropes that bind my wrists and ankles to the chair. Then he hauls me to my feet, his strong hand gripping the front of my leather vest. Were my muscles not so stiff from being secured in one position for so long, I would have been able to fight him away immediately. I will have to wait, though, until the feeling comes back to my limbs before I can attempt any form of escape.
But, despite my skills, the chances of escape are low. I have Adrian on my side, but Victor has Grey and his two soldiers. Besides that, I have no idea how many more of his soldiers are lying in wait upstairs. At the very least, though, I have to get Adrian out of here with his shadow still in his possession, otherwise Victor might take control of Itoria.
And, in spite of everything I know about him, I have faith in Adrian. He is the rightful king.
Adrian takes a step towards me, but stops when Victor presses his blade to my throat. The best ways to free myself flash through my mind, but they are quelled when I remember that Adrian and I are outnumbered. Would my temerity result in his death? I'm not willing to take that risk.
"What must I do to free her?" Adrian asks, his eyes fixed on the blade against my throat. His voice is slightly strained, stressed by the sight of me in this position. Some of his unruffled disposition is permanently broken.
"Tell us your greatest fear," Victor replies.
"He has none," I say. The cold blade tickles my skin. "I told you this already. No one fear prevails over the others."
Victor presses the knife deep enough that it cuts me. Warm blood trickles down my neck, at odds with the chill of his metal blade.
"That's not true," he snarls.
Adrian's eyes meet mine. "Nyx."
"Yes?" My voice is barely more than a whisper, substantial as a dandelion seed lost on the wind. It is as much nothing as I feel.
Vulnerability is pooled in his quicksilver eyes, just as it was the first time he kissed me. "There is a reason that you couldn't guess my greatest fear. It does exist; the problem is that it is ever changing, unsteady as the ocean in a storm."
"Then what is it right now?"
"At the moment?" A slight smile lifts the corners of his mouth. "My greatest fear is losing you."
I forget to breathe. When we parted, I feared that he hated me. Now, I fear that he loves me. I don't know which is more dangerous, but either option gives me unbounded power over him.
"You heard him." Excitement scrapes at Victor's voice. He releases me, shoving me towards the wall against which Adrian's shadow flickers.
My hand stretches towards the shadow. I touch it, and Adrian shudders. I watch him, waiting for permission.
"Take it," he murmurs. "It was always yours, anyway."
"Losing Nyx Madden," I say hoarsely, stretching out my fingers and closing them over the throat of the shadow. It screeches loud enough that I wince. When it writhes, my right hand joins my left to hold it steady. Victor is wrong; stronger shadows require two hands. Otherwise, they would slip away.
Adrian trembles where he stands, but he still holds my gaze. There's something reassuring in the way he looks at me; something in his expression tells me that it's all right. He doesn't grudge me for doing this. He wants it, if it means saving me.
Well, now it's my turn to save him.
Victor pulls a trapping jar out of his pocket, as though he expected this. He holds it in his hand, and I can see it rattling about. He must only have the one; this one obviously contains Morwen's shadow. When he unscrews the lid, the shadow pours out like a cloud of smoke, screaming out its gleeful release as it darts around the room before seeping through the open trapdoor, looking to tear its way through anything to be reunited with its owner.
At least I can be sure that Morwen is all right.
Victor strides towards me, nearly running for how fast he travels across the room. He extends the jar to me and says, "Trap him."
"Put it on the floor," I tell him. Once he does, I wrestle Adrian's shadow inside, tearing it from its weak grip on the wall and stuffing it into the jar. I screw the lid on tightly and stand, clutching it in both hands. Adrian's shadow fights like none I've ever encountered before, desperately trying to free itself.
With the shadow no longer in my hands, Adrian's trembling fades. He stands stiffly, his face paler than usual, and stares at me as he awaits instruction.
Despite my feelings for him, I cannot deny the intoxicating effect this power has on me. I am in control of the King of Itoria.
Victor extends a hand towards me, his smooth fingers trembling in anticipation. "Give it to me."
"Fight me for it." I turn to Adrian and command, "Give me your sword, then stay there."
Woodenly, he pulls it from its scabbard and tosses it to me. I catch the hilt and brandish it, shoving the trapping jar into my pocket.
Chuckling, Victor says, "You are vastly outnumbered, Shadow Thief. I have ten soldiers standing above us, and three down here ready to chop off your head at my command."
"Don't tell me you're too frightened to accept a fair duel," I say. "You have the upper hand, after all, what with me being tied up for so long."
"Stop this madness, Nyx," Adrian tells me. "You won't win."
"You have such little faith in me, Your Majesty," I say, adjusting my grip on his sword hilt. Now is not a good time to tell him that I have never even held a sword before. It can't be that much different than a knife, though...right?
"You're so confident," Victor says, amused. "All right, then, Nyx. I accept your challenge. But I have my terms."
I expected as much. "Name them."
"When I win, you will pledge your service to me."
"Fair enough." There's no chance in me walking out of here alive, no matter what the outcome of our duel is. "And when I win, Adrian walks out of here a free man."
"Nyx, don't!" Adrian cries. "I came here to save you. Leave while you still can. Trade your freedom for my shadow."
"Quiet," I tell him, already forgetting that he must obey whatever I command. He falls silent instantly, his lips pressed together as though sewn shut. Obstinance reigns over his countenance, and I can see how he despises being told what to do.
Too bad. He'll have to bear it for a little longer.
"I agree to your terms," Victor says, drawing his long sword with the rough sound of metal scraping against metal. "However, there's one more thing."
"What?" I ask. My nerves render me impatient. I want to end this now.
"It's difficult for me to see in this mask. Shall we even the odds?"
I can feel my eyes widening in shock as, with one hand, Victor grabs his bone mask. He lifts it from his face and tosses it aside.