Wrayth by Philippa Ballantine

Author:Philippa Ballantine [Ballantine, Philippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781937007751
Publisher: Ace
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Plans and Patterns

Zofiya dreamed of her time in Delmaire. It was a pleasant dream—one without any sign of her father. She held Kaleva, a toddler, warm, soft and giggling in her arms. They sat in the sun on a warm stone bench in one of their father’s palace courtyards, totally alone. The thick smell of honeysuckle and roses had almost made her giddy. She was wrapped in such happiness that she struggled to hold on to the sensation.

Then Kal had slipped off her lap and ran toward the fountain. As she watched, the water flowing in it had turned to blood, and she—unable to move from the bench—had cried out to him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He just kept toddling toward the danger, arms outstretched, laughing and crowing to himself. Her cries made no difference to him.

It’s a dream! A dream! She screamed to herself, trying to wake herself before her brother reached the deadly pool and tumbled in.

Zofiya struggled to regain consciousness—as if it were her life that was at stake, not Kaleva’s. She only knew that she didn’t want to see the end of the dream.

Finally, her own shouts woke her. When she realized she had made it from the dream world and opened her eyes, she was disappointed.

The Grand Duchess Zofiya was still a prisoner. The cruel device was pushed back against the wall, but its needle and tubing still ran into her arm. At least though, she was now mercifully alone. She lay back and pulled experimentally at her bonds—but there was no give in them. Carefully she considered her options. The links were strong and she couldn’t really put all her weight against them, since her legs were bound too. However if there was a way to lubricate them she would perhaps be able to fold her hands and slip out of them. She’d always been flexible, and if she sawed back and forth, enough of her own blood might do the trick.

Zofiya flicked her head and strained her eyes to look around the room. Freed of the influence of whatever potion they’d given her, she could make out that she was definitely in a cellar. Against the wall were some implements that looked like hoes and shovels, and the smell of dirt filled her nostrils. It had been a far more pleasant environment in the dream.

However, one thing was obvious; they hadn’t expected to kidnap her so soon. Her falling into bed with Merrick had just been a fortuitous event for them, and so they had apparently had to make hasty arrangements. This could play to her advantage should she get at least her hands free. Considering del Rue’s physical attributes, Zofiya hazarded she might be able to get the best of him. No telling how weak she might be if they kept her here too long and under the ministrations of the device.

So yes, it had to be soon.

Zofiya began to work both of her wrists within the confines of the chain. Without drugs, it was going to be very painful.

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