Chapter 170 CHAPTER 170
The basement was just as cold in the morning as it was at night.
The stone walls held onto dampness the way wounds hold onto pain. The air carried the scent of earth and old iron, and the only light came from a single lantern that flickered near the stairs.
Helena sat on the thin mattress pushed against the wall, her back resting against the stone. Jocelyn sat a short distance away, knees drawn slightly inward, her posture calm despite the weight of captivity. They had learned to live in the quiet between visits. It was the only way to survive.
The door at the top of the stairs opened abruptly.
Footsteps descended, measured and light, but charged with something almost electric.
Seraphine.
She did not walk like someone burdened by thought. She walked like someone carrying victory.
Helena stiffened immediately, fear rising in her throat before she could control it. Jocelyn lifted her eyes slowly, studying her sister’s expression.
Seraphine was smiling.
Not the thin smile of mockery she usually wore, but something brighter. Something triumphant.
“I just spoke with your daughter,” she announced before either woman could speak.
The words hit Helena like a physical blow.
She scrambled to her feet, stumbling forward. “What?”
Seraphine descended the final step and stopped at the base of the stairs, folding her arms loosely across her chest.
“I said,” she repeated lightly, “I just spoke with Lisa.”
Helena’s hands began to shake. “How?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “How did you—”
Her mind leaped to the threat Seraphine had made days ago.
If you do not tell me where she hid her powers, I will bring your daughter here.
Helena’s face drained of color. “Is she here?” she whispered. “Did you bring her here?”
Her voice rose suddenly, desperation tearing through it. “Where is she? What have you done to her? Take me to her. Please, take me to her.”
She dropped to her knees without meaning to, sobs breaking loose from her chest.
“Is she hurt?” Helena cried. “Tell me she is not hurt.”
Seraphine tilted her head slightly, savoring every tremor in Helena’s voice.
“She is very frightened,” she said softly. “You should have seen her face when she realized who I was.”
Helena’s breath hitched violently. “No.”
“She approached me herself,” Seraphine continued smoothly. “She thought we were friends. It was too easy.”
Helena’s sobbing grew louder.
“She trusted me,” Seraphine added, her voice almost amused. “Just as you once did.”
“Please,” Helena begged, crawling closer. “Please, if you are going to kill someone, kill me. Let her go. I beg you. Kill me.”
Seraphine laughed softly, the sound echoing off the stone walls.
“Did you not hear me the last time?” she asked. “If Jocelyn does not tell me where she hid her power, your daughter will pay the price.”
Helena turned toward Jocelyn wildly. “Tell her,” she cried. “Please, just tell her. I don’t care anymore. Tell her where you took it. I can’t watch my daughter die because of me.”
Jocelyn had not moved.
She was watching Seraphine.
Carefully.
Her sister’s excitement was real, but something else flickered beneath it. A performance too polished.
“You are bluffing,” Jocelyn said quietly.
The room shifted.
Helena stared at her in disbelief. “What do you mean?”
Seraphine’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before sharpening again. “Bluffing?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn replied calmly. “I think she is not here.”
Helena shook her head frantically. “Jocelyn, please—”
“If she had Lisa,” Jocelyn continued steadily, never breaking eye contact with Seraphine, “she would have brought her down here already. She would have forced her to watch this. She would have made us kneel before her.”
Seraphine’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Are you calling me a liar?” she asked, her tone cooling.
“I am saying,” Jocelyn replied, rising slowly to her feet, “that you are too proud to hide such a victory.”
Helena looked between them, tears streaming down her face.
“Please,” Helena whispered to Jocelyn. “Do not gamble with my child’s life.”
Jocelyn moved to Helena and gently helped her stand.
“If Lisa is truly here,” Jocelyn said, her voice steady, “bring her.”
Seraphine’s eyes flashed.
“Bring her down these stairs,” Jocelyn continued. “Let me see her. Then I will tell you everything.”
“And if I do?” Seraphine challenged. “If I bring her and I kill her in front of you?”
“Then you lose your leverage,” Jocelyn replied without hesitation. “And you gain nothing.”
Silence fell heavily over the basement.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered openly across Seraphine’s face.
Helena watched, trembling, as if her heart were suspended between beats.
“You are very bold for someone without magic,” Seraphine said finally.
“And you are very loud for someone who is incomplete,” Jocelyn answered.
The word landed.
Incomplete.
Seraphine’s gaze hardened.
“Be careful, little sister.”
“Or what?” Jocelyn asked softly. “You will use power that is no longer yours?”
Helena’s breathing slowed slightly as realization dawned. She looked from one sister to the other.
“You see?” Jocelyn said quietly to Helena. “If she had Lisa, she would not be here alone.”
Seraphine’s composure cracked just enough to reveal her irritation.
“Are you truly willing to risk it?” she asked. “If I return with her, you will regret challenging me.”
“Then bring her,” Jocelyn said simply.
The lantern flame flickered violently as Seraphine turned abruptly toward the stairs.
She paused halfway up, glancing back at them with cold eyes.
“This is not over,” she said.
“It never was,” Jocelyn replied.
The door slammed shut above them.
The sound echoed long after her footsteps faded.
Helena collapsed against Jocelyn, shaking.
“Are you sure?” she whispered desperately. “Are you sure she was lying?”
Jocelyn wrapped her arms around her gently.
“I know my sister,” she said quietly. “If she had your daughter, she would have brought her here.”
Helena’s sobs softened into trembling breaths.
“But it is only a matter of time,” Helena murmured. “She will find a way.”
Jocelyn’s expression grew serious.
“It is not that simple,” she said.
Helena pulled back slightly. “What do you mean?”
Jocelyn hesitated for only a moment before answering.
“When the attack happened in Mooncrest,” she began slowly, “Seraphine was not acting alone.”
Helena stared at her.
“She had me,” Jocelyn continued. “I did not understand what she was doing at first. She told me we were protecting ourselves. She told me we were correcting injustice.”
Her eyes darkened with regret.
“She used my power.”
Helena’s lips parted.
“I was stronger then,” Jocelyn said. “Much stronger than she ever was. Seraphine without my magic is not as powerful as she pretends to be.”
Helena’s mind struggled to absorb the revelation.
“You mean…”
“I stripped myself of my powers,” Jocelyn said firmly. “I would not let her use me again. That is why she hunts them now. That is why she believes I hid them somewhere.”
Helena sank slowly back onto the mattress.
“Without my magic,” Jocelyn continued, “she cannot defeat Mooncrest alone. She cannot overpower an army. She cannot control what she does not possess.”
Helena’s eyes filled again, but this time not with panic.
“With that knowledge,” Jocelyn said quietly, “we have something she does not.”
“Hope?” Helena asked weakly.
“Strategy,” Jocelyn corrected gently. “If we understand her limitations, we can exploit them.”
Helena looked at her, fragile but listening.
“She thrives on fear and legend,” Jocelyn continued. “She wants the world to believe she is unstoppable. But she is not.”
Helena closed her eyes briefly.
“She took everything from us,” Helena whispered.
“And she will answer for it,” Jocelyn said steadily. “I promise you, I will not rest until we find a way to stop her. The children will be freed. You will see your family again.”
Helena leaned her forehead against Jocelyn’s shoulder.