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other only a few days.
I d rather never have lived, he said, if it would ve spared my mother. But now that I m here, I m in no
hurry to leave this world. He stared into her eyes, a moment too long, then turned for home. Especially
now.
13
Asermos
A shriek shattered Rhia s dream into a thousand pieces. She sat straight up into total darkness.
Mali, what s happening?
A grunt came from the next cell. Why are you waking me?
I thought I heard someone scream.
It came again, longer and louder, from a room upstairs. A man, whose throat sounded like it would rip
from the effort.
Oh, that. Mali sniffed. Torture.
What are they doing to him?
Shh. Be quiet and I ll try to figure it out.
A sharp crack came, making Rhia jump, followed by another shriek.
Sounds like a whip, Mali said, as though naming an ingredient in a stew she d just sampled. Go back
to sleep.
Are you crazy? The last three days with Mali had answered that question for Rhia. I can t sleep. We
have to do something.
One day I will. I ll wrap those whips around their necks, then hang them with weights on their feet, until
the barbs chew through their throats.
The whips have barbs?
To make us bleed. Well, not me, hardly at all, or a Wolverine. You d likely pass out after one lash.
Badgers usually last about ten, until the whip breaks through to muscle. Cougars, though she clucked
her tongue not as tough as they pretend.
Rhia held back her horrified response, knowing it would have no audience with Mali. The room upstairs
fell silent.
Must have been a Cougar, Mali commented.
The silence was broken again, by a hacking, choking sound.
Ah, Mali said, they ve switched him to the tub.
Don t they have laws against torturing civilians?
Technically we re not civilians, we re suspected violents, and the torture is to gather evidence for our
trials. But no one s had a trial in years. At least not publicly.
Rhia shrank back on her bed, tight to the wall. She had to escape. Now.
I m surprised they haven t come for you yet, Mali said. When they do, just remember one thing. Her
voice came closer to the bars and lost its sarcastic edge. The key to torture is to take away a person s
hope. To beat it, you have to believe that you ll escape, that we ll win, that one day we ll have a victory
parade by the waterfront with the Descendant scum pulling our carts on their hands and knees. Well,
their knees and the stumps of their wrists.
Mali was so full of hate, Rhia feared the Ilions had already won.
The ceiling thudded with a heavy impact.
Mali gave a low whistle. That didn t sound good.
A door slammed, then Rhia heard booted footsteps rattling down the stairs to their cells.
The outer door swung open with a clang. Rhia squinted against the light of a torch. Two men stalked
toward her.
Let s go, the heftier one said. Now.
She shrank back harder against the wall, wishing she could cram herself into the tiny cracks where the
rats lived. One of the guards unlocked her door, then the other lurched in and grabbed her arm.
Don t make me carry you, he growled. Rhia stumbled, then recovered her footing so he didn t drag
her.
Remember what I told you. Mali stood and clutched the bars as they passed. Picture the parade!
Rhia s feet felt cold as they carried her up the stone stairs. At the top, a door opened, revealing a tall,
nervous-looking officer near her own age.
Bring her over to him, he told the guards.
They led Rhia forward. She blinked against the bright lantern light, momentarily blinded. But her nose
smelled the blood.
A naked man lay faceup on a red-stained stone slab the height of a dining table.
Tell us, will he die? the officer barked as he paced.
She stared at him, confused. What kind of interrogation was this?
You re some kind of Crow witch. He flapped his hand at the unconscious man. You see these things.
Her shoulders ached from her restraints. Let me get closer, and I ll tell you.
He hesitated, then nodded at the guards. They released her, and she stepped up to the table to examine
the prisoner. His long dark hair was soaking wet, and his torso was covered in lengthy shallow cuts, as
though he d been carved with a dozen tiny knives.
She touched his bruised, wet face, then drew in a quick breath. It was Endrus the Cougar, one of her old
friends from Kalindos. She d heard he d joined the Asermon resistance. Tears sprang to her eyes at the
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