Scorched Treachery by Rebecca Ethington Page A

heart. He clenched his fingers around the fabric of his shirt as his face screwed up in pain. He backed away from me, his back hitting the bars that separated me from Talon, his eyes wide as he clutched his shirt, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks.
    “Cail?” I asked, unable to help myself and not understanding what was happening.
    I heard Sain gasp, in warning or curiosity, I wasn’t sure, but it barely registered. I watched my brother crying in front of me, his hand clenched over his heart.
    I moved forward, my body itching to get as close to him as possible.
    “Save me.” He hissed the words, and I froze, everything on high alert inside of me.
    “Cail?” I had barely moved before the back of Cail’s hand c onnected with my cheek, the smack sounding loud and clear in the dark room.
    “Shut your mouth,” Cail snapped, the hard lines of his face back, his eyes hard.
    He looked at me once more before he left my cell, the door closing with a loud snap before he went up the stairs, the light going with him and leaving us in the dark again. I looked toward the staircase, my eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light.
    “What was that?” I whispered into the darkness when I was sure that Cail had gone, not daring to say more and hoping that my voice hadn’t traveled beyond my own five foot square.
    I stared into the dark, my mind attempting to swim around the confusion that Cail had introduced, trying to blow it off as a trap, a trick. But I couldn’t, as much as I wanted to. I exhaled shakily, rubbing the tender skin on my wrists, and then it hit me that I was unchained.
    I waited, my body still curled in the middle of my cell. The footsteps were long gone, but I still dreaded the darkness, the possibility of someone waiting just beyond the black, out of sight. My breath picked up, and finally I could take it no more. I scooted across the small space toward the cell where Talon lay, my arms stretching through the bars as I reached for him. I clawed through air until I grabbed what I was sure was a shirt. I traced the fabric until I felt his skin, the warmth shooting through me as it always did, but without the magic behind it. Only my heart responded this time, the beats heavy and excited.
    I didn’t dare say anything until Sain gave the all clear . I had learned that the hard way. Any noise demanded a beating, and I had already risked enough with my whispered question. No one was stupid enough to risk talking without Sain’s help. Ryland only howled because he couldn’t help it, or perhaps because Cail made him; either was a possibility.
    W hy had my brother been so gentle with me? I wanted to find a rational excuse, a reason for what had just passed between us. Even as a form of torture, it made no sense. Why leave my hands free? Why give me what I want? This was absolutely what I wanted. I traced down the skin of Talon’s arm until I found his hand. It was limp, but I intertwined my fingers with him anyway, desperate for the connection.
    There was no wild flaring of joined magic when we touched. The omezující stone had done its job, but I didn’t care. The touch of his skin, the feel of his fingers was enough for me for now.
    A dim green light flared from the other side of the prison , and I turned slowly toward Sain who sat with a tiny orb settled in his hands.
    Sain’s magic wasn’t restricted; Edmund needed the use of his sight, so restricting it was useless. Sain was also weak and mostly powerless, so he couldn’t do much more than give us some light and shield our voices.
    I kept my hands intertwined with Talon’s as Sain looked up at me, his eyes barely visible from beneath his mat of hair.
    “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice calm and low so as not to breach the shield.
    I nodded once. “Was that a trap?”
    “Cail?” Sain asked as he leaned over to check Ryland’s body, Ryland’s chest moving as he struggled to breathe.
    “Yeah.”
    Sain exhaled, the sound as shaky as