Chapter 126 Questioning the Prisoner Part 2
After leaving the damp passages beneath the castle, they regrouped in the old war room, a leftover from the city’s last days as a kingdom. Maps of vanished provinces covered the walls, their borders drawn in faded colors. A fire burned in the hearth, but the cold here was deeper than any flame could fix. Ash floated through the torchlight, settling on the worn carpet like slow snow, making the air feel heavy and tense. A faint draft moved the papers on the table, lifting their corners as if urging someone to do something. He sat at the table, his fingers drumming on a ledger. Eleanora Ravensworth wore the same white dress as before, now smudged at the cuffs, her expression more severe than ever. Mira Stone had replaced her usual robes with a suit of gray wool, practical but still impeccably tailored.
Delia was there, bandaged and pale, but alert. Oliver leaned against the far wall, eyes darting between Daisy and the door as if measuring the odds of escape.
Daisy slapped the letter onto the table. “It’s confirmed. Willow’s people hit tonight, at the moon’s peak. They know the city’s weak, and they have a map of every councilor’s safehouse.”
Samuel’s jaw clenched. “How?”
“Bribes. Blood. The usual.” Daisy let the words drop like stones, a bitter echo of what the boy in the tunnels had spat ten minutes earlier. In the city’s war, those three were bargains struck by both sides, and she could not pretend her hands were clean. “They’re coming for the chain first.”
Mira flicked her eyes to Xeris, then to Daisy. “Can you hold it? For even an hour?”
Xeris answered for her. “She’ll hold as long as she’s needed. But the wards will collapse in sequence, not all at once.”
Delia set her hands on the table, fingers trembling. “We have to get the children out. The wounded. The healers—”
“We can’t evacuate,” Eleanora cut in, cold. “There’s nowhere to go. The Ironclaw has the bridges, and the forest is crawling with Veilseekers.”
Mira’s lips twitched. “Not everywhere. There’s a valley, east of the river. Forgotten by the Imperium. I used to go there as a girl. The Veil is thin, and magic… doesn’t work right. Even the Veilseekers avoid it.” She glanced toward the north wall, as if seeing through it to a distant landscape. “You remember the old sunken bridge, by the shattered obelisk? That’s the only crossing left standing, if you can call it that. We’d have to make it past the aqueduct tower’s ruins first—no cover, and the stones are slick with algae. But if we reach the hollow beneath the obelisk before moonrise, we might lose any who try to follow.”
Samuel looked skeptical. “You want us to run?”
“I want us to survive,” Mira replied. “This city is already lost. If we stay, we’re dead. If we go, there’s a chance.”
Xeris folded his arms. “How many people can make the journey? And how quickly?”
Daisy tried to count in her head, but couldn’t. “Not enough. We take the chain, the council, and anyone who can walk. The rest…” Her voice faltered as she confronted the impossible choice forced upon her. Conflict flickered across her face; the weight of leaving people behind pressed heavily on her conscience. Still, she finished quietly, “The rest will have to survive on their own.”
Eleanora glared. “You’d abandon them.”
Daisy met her stare, unblinking. Her hand drifted unconsciously to the scar where the chain lay hidden, fingertips pressing into her sleeve until her knuckles whitened. For a heartbeat, she glanced at the door as if weighing an impossible escape. "If I die, the chain burns out, and they die anyway. When the chain fails, the wards holding the city's magic collapse: the city crumbles, everything rotten and wild flooding in. There'd be nothing left but ruin. This way, some might live."
Oliver broke the silence. “The city won’t survive a night without you, Pest. But I get it.” His gaze softened. He managed a tired half-grin. “Guess this is the part where I remind you not to skip out on the last stand without me.” He nudged her with his elbow, the old in-joke threading warmth into the chill. “You’re not giving up. You’re just choosing where to make the last stand.”
Daisy felt the fire crackle in her chest. “I’m not leaving without my mother,” she said, surprising herself with the conviction in it. “She’s on the edge, but she’s all I have left.”
Samuel nodded. “Agreed. Family first. We’ll reconvene in the lower tunnels in an hour. Get everyone you trust.”
As they filed out, Xeris stopped Daisy with a touch on her shoulder, almost gentle. “You really think you can do this?”
She swallowed. “No. But that’s never stopped me before.”
He smiled, lips tight. “That’s what I like about you.”
She rolled her eyes, but the warmth stayed.
In the corridor, Mira Stone caught up to Daisy, matching her stride. “If you get out, head for the hollow under the old willow tree. The wards are strongest there. You’ll feel it—like stepping through a curtain.”
Daisy nodded. “Why are you helping us?”
Mira shrugged. “Because I’m tired of losing. And because you’re the only one who ever told me the truth.”
Daisy almost smiled. “Thanks. For what it’s worth.”
Mira touched her arm, a quick squeeze. “Don’t thank me yet. We may both regret this.”
Daisy watched her disappear into the maze of hallways, then pressed on to the infirmary where her mother waited.
As she walked, the castle shook with distant explosions. The siege had resumed.
They had hours, at most.
But Daisy felt a new kind of hope, bright and sharp, growing in the darkness. She reached the infirmary and found her mother awake, her eyes shining in the torchlight. When her mother pressed a trembling but warm hand into hers, Daisy remembered a night years ago—before the chain, before the war—when her mother would tuck her in and whisper, "Stone and water, heart and home." Now, Daisy repeated the old phrase under her breath, their hands locked together, and let the promise sink in. It was a fragile warmth, as real as the breath they shared.
She wouldn’t waste it. Not now.