Elara's POV
I wake to the sound of metal scraping against stone.
For a confused moment, I think I'm still in the dungeon. Then I remember—Commander Thorne's fortress. The locked room. The curse I somehow have to break in six days.
The scraping sound continues. It's coming from above me.
I sit up, listening. Footsteps on the floor overhead. Heavy furniture being dragged. Then silence.
My door unlocks.
Commander Thorne stands there, looking even worse than last night. Dark circles under his eyes. His cursed hand tucked inside his jacket.
"Come with me," he says.
"Where?"
"Does it matter? You're a prisoner. Prisoners don't get to ask questions."
His coldness stings. Last night he seemed almost human—broken and desperate and haunted. Now the Stone Heart mask is back in place.
I follow him through the fortress corridors. We climb stairs, pass more locked doors, until we reach a heavy wooden door I haven't seen before.
He opens it.
The room beyond is massive—a study with floor-to-ceiling shelves stuffed with books. A desk covered in maps and documents. Windows showing the mountain cliffs dropping away to nothing.
And hanging from the ceiling by thick chains, an iron cage.
My blood turns to ice.
"No," I breathe. "No, you said I'd have a room—"
"I said you'd have a room when I'm not training you." He crosses to the cage and opens its small door. "This is where you'll stay the rest of the time."
"You're putting me in a cage? Like an animal?"
"Like a prisoner." His voice is flat. "Which is what you are. Get in."
"No!" I back toward the door. "You need me alive to break your curse! You can't—"
"I can do whatever I want." He moves faster than I expect, grabbing my arm with his good hand. "You'll cooperate, or I'll drag you back to that execution square right now. Your choice."
The cage door yawns open behind him. It's barely big enough for me to sit upright. Iron bars on all sides. No blanket, no pillow. Just cold metal.
"Please," I whisper. "Don't do this."
Something flickers in his eyes. Then dies.
"Get in the cage, Elara."
He's serious. He'll actually lock me in there.
My magic stirs, angry and frightened. Green light sparks at my fingertips.
Commander Thorne sees it. His hand moves to the sword at his hip.
"Try it," he says quietly. "Use your magic on me. See what happens."
We stare at each other. His gray eyes are hard as stone—just like the curse spreading through his body.
I could fight. Could try to burn him with the same magic that destroyed Seraphine's wedding.
But then what? I'm trapped in a fortress on a mountain. No way down except a fatal drop. Even if I killed him, I'd die here.
The green light fades from my hands.
"Smart girl," he says.
I climb into the cage. The moment I'm inside, he slams the door shut. A lock clicks.
Then he walks to the wall and pulls a lever. Chains rattle. The cage lifts into the air, rising until it hangs from the ceiling ten feet above the floor.
I grip the bars, my heart hammering. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because High Inquisitor Vale has spies everywhere. If one of them reports that I'm keeping a witch in comfort, I'll be investigated for treason." He looks up at me with those empty eyes. "A witch in a cage is expected. A witch in a guest room raises questions."
"So this is for show? To protect yourself?"
"This is to keep us both alive." He turns away, moving to his desk. "Now be quiet. I have work to do."
He sits and opens a ledger, completely ignoring me.
I'm hanging in a cage like a bird. Like a trophy. Like something less than human.
Tears burn my eyes. I won't cry. Won't give him the satisfaction.
Hours pass.
Commander Thorne works at his desk, writing reports, studying maps. He doesn't look at me once. Doesn't speak. Acts like I don't exist.
My legs cramp from sitting hunched over. My hands go numb from gripping the bars. The cage sways slightly whenever I move, making my stomach lurch.
This is worse than the dungeon. At least there I could stand. Could pace. Here, I'm trapped in this tiny metal box, displayed like a captured animal.
Finally, as the sun sets outside the windows, he stands.
"Hungry?" he asks, still not looking at me.
"Yes," I manage.
He leaves. Returns minutes later with bread, cheese, and water. Lowers the cage just enough to shove the food through the bars.
"Eat quickly. You have five minutes."
I grab the food, my hands shaking. It tastes like ash but I force it down. I need strength if I'm going to survive this.
He raises the cage again before I finish. The water cup tips, splashing onto the floor below.
"Tomorrow we start training," he says. "For now, sleep."
"In this cage?"
"Where else?"
He walks to the door. His hand is on the handle when I finally break.
"I hate you," I say quietly.
He stops. Doesn't turn around.
"Good," he says. "Hate is honest. Hate will keep you focused."
He leaves, locking the door behind him.
I'm alone in the darkness, hanging from the ceiling in an iron cage.
I curl up as small as I can, trying to find a position that doesn't hurt. It's impossible. Everything hurts. My body, my pride, my hope.
This morning I thought I might survive. Thought maybe Commander Thorne wasn't completely a monster.
I was wrong.
He's using me just like everyone else used me—my family, Adrian, the Inquisition. I'm not a person to him. I'm a tool to break his curse.
The fortress goes quiet. No sounds except wind against the windows and the creaking of chains above me.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps in the corridor outside. Multiple people, moving quietly.
Voices, hushed and urgent.
"—confirmed the Commander brought her here—"
"—High Inquisitor wants proof—"
"—if he's hiding her, that's treason—"
My heart stops.
Vale's spies. They're here.
The door handle rattles. Someone testing it.
"Locked. He's definitely hiding something."
"Should we break in?"
"Not yet. Watch the fortress tonight. If she's really here, we'll find proof."
The footsteps retreat.
I'm frozen in the cage, barely breathing.
If Vale's spies find me comfortable in a guest room, they'll report that Commander Thorne is protecting a witch. He'll be executed for treason. And I'll burn anyway.
But if they find me in this cage, suffering, displayed like a monster—then it looks exactly like what's expected. A witch being properly contained by the Stone Heart.
Understanding crashes over me.
The cage isn't cruelty.
It's camouflage.
Commander Thorne put me here to protect both of us from Vale's investigation.
The door opens again. Thorne slips inside, moving silently in the darkness. He crosses to the cage lever and lowers it quickly.
"Did you hear them?" he whispers urgently.
"Yes."
"Then you understand now. Why this has to look real." He unlocks the cage door. "Come on. Quickly."
I climb out, my legs screaming from being cramped so long.
He leads me not to my locked room, but to a hidden door behind one of the bookshelves. It opens to reveal a small space—barely more than a closet, but it has a mattress, blankets, a lamp.
"This is where you'll actually sleep," he says quietly. "But if anyone comes during the day, you go in the cage. Understand?"
I nod, too shocked to speak.
"The cage is theater," he continues. "For Vale's spies. For anyone who might report back to him. You suffer where they can see it, and we both stay alive."
"You could have told me," I whisper.
"Could I?" He meets my eyes. "You tried to use magic on me earlier. If I'd explained the plan, would you have believed me? Or would you have thought I was manipulating you?"
He's right. I wouldn't have believed him.
"How long do I have to stay in that thing?"
"As long as spies are watching. Could be days. Could be weeks." He moves toward the door. "Get some real sleep tonight. Tomorrow, the actual training begins."
"Wait." I grab his sleeve. He flinches. "Your hand—is it worse?"
He pulls away. "That's not your concern tonight."
"You made it my concern when you demanded I break your curse!"
He turns back. In the lamplight, his face looks carved from stone—exhausted and ancient and so, so tired.
"Yes," he finally admits. "It's worse. The stone spread to my elbow today. I have maybe five days before it reaches my heart." His voice drops. "So tomorrow, you better be ready to learn fast."
He disappears through the door, leaving me alone in the hidden room.
I sink onto the mattress, my mind spinning.
Five days. Not even the full week he promised.
The curse is killing him faster than he thought.
Which means I have five days to learn magic I don't understand, break a curse that's alive and angry, and somehow save the life of a man who kills people like me.
And if I fail, we both die.
I lie awake in the darkness, listening to the fortress creak around me, and wonder which is worse: being a witch the world wants dead, or being the only person who can save their greatest monster.