“Elea!”
Finally, my vision cleared. I found Ada sitting in a far corner. Her bony limbs jutted out from her loose robes. A tangle of dark hair sat matted against her head, and her brown eyes seemed sunken into her skull. A large table stood beside her.
I ran over to Ada, knelt at her side, and scooped her tiny frame into my arms. Heavy chains rattled with the movement. Someone had manacled her hands and feet. Rage coursed through me. How dare anyone touch her?
“You came for me,” Ada said between sobs. Her tiny body felt so frail against mine.
“I never forgot you.” I rocked her gently.
“There aren’t many of us left.”
My breath caught. If Ada was alive, then there was still hope for others, too. Amelia would be thrilled. “Is Veronique here?”
“Yes, she’s—”
“Now I understand.” The Vicomte’s voice boomed around the stone room. Ada immediately fell silent. I pulled her more closely to me. “You’re here to rescue this little thing. My fool of a daughter wants to save Veronique’s useless hide. How brainless of you both.” He paused before me and Ada, his boots gleaming in the low light. “You sent the Tsar into exile, didn’t you?”
I glared up at him. “You’re next, only it won’t be exile.”
The Vicomte smiled. “I should thank you for that. Saved me the trouble of killing him. Perhaps I could even offer you a place with me as a Fantome. However, I can’t. Your kind is worse than useless. Need to save everyone, don’t you?”
“Not everyone.” I carefully reset Ada into her corner. The motion exposed new stretches of her skin to the torchlight. Tiny sores covered her everywhere. Many of them oozed blood. Rage burned through me. “Some people I’d rather kill.”
I rose, faced the Vicomte, and tapped into the little bit of magick inside my soul. No, I didn’t yet have the vortex watch, but I couldn’t get myself to care any longer.
The Vicomte was going to die, right now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hannah and Jonas tackled me before the incantation had left my lips. Cold metal pressed onto my wrists. Damn, they’d gotten another pair of enchanted manacles. I couldn’t cast a thing while these were on.
“Well done,” said the Vicomte.
“Thank you, Your Eminence,” said Jonas. He and Hannah stood behind me, holding me in place.
The Vicomte rubbed his papery hands together. “You’ve been nothing but trouble to me, girl. I know exactly how to repay you.”
“You want to drain me.”
“Eventually.” The Vicomte motioned to one of his other Fantomes. “Bring me a torch.” I didn’t like the smug look on his wrinkled face. “Set it right by the wall over there.”
The mage stalked closer, illuminating the back wall. That was when I saw her. Veronique. Her broken body was strapped to the high table that stood beside Ada. I blinked hard, hoping that what I saw was a trick of the firelight.
It wasn’t.
Veronique lay with her arms stretched far above her. Her ankles were braced apart. She’s on the rack. The Vicomte moved to stand at the foot of the table, his hand resting on the crank that would pull the structure apart. The rack was known to snap a person’s spine. It was a horrible way to die.
An angry gleam shone in the Vicomte’s charcoal-gray eyes. There was no doubt in my mind. He intended to kill her while I watched.
Options and ideas flew through my head.
Lunge for the Vicomte.
Run for my life.
Scream for help.
None of them seemed a viable choice. Amelia’s witness watch weighed heavily in my pocket. When I’d last checked, the time was a few minutes before midnight. My insides trembled with worry. By tapping into my power, the Vicomte would quickly load up this vortex watch.
There had to be some way to stop him.
I still had my small cache of Necromancer energy. The enchanted manacles blocked me from using my magick, but not for long. Hannah and Jonas would have to take them off in order to strap me down to the table. When that happened, I’d need to cast and quickly.
It was my only chance.
The Vicomte gave the wheel of the rack a spin. Veronique moaned and shook. The Vicomte grinned. “Good evening, Veronique. I brought you a visitor.”
Veronique slowly angled her head in my direction. Pity and anger tightened my throat. Veronique’s Necromancer robes were little more than bloody rags now. Her face was white as death. Small red welts dotted her skin. Blood and puss oozed from the holes. The sight made me ill and enraged all at once.
“Elea, you’re here.” Veronique’s large blue eyes, once so full of fight, stared blankly at me. “Kill me. Please.”
A moan caught in my throat. What horrors had they exposed her to? I pulled against the enchanted manacles that held me. The metal chaffed my skin, and I welcomed the pain. From behind, Jonas and Hannah tightened their hold on me.