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“Run!” Abigail screamed.
“But-!” Protests rose to Raelle’s lips but she wouldn’t hear them.
“Just go! I’ll be fine!”
Out of any of them, she was most likely not to be killed. And it wasn’t her they were after. She wouldn’t let them hurt her unit. She was their leader. She had to protect them.
Raelle stumbled towards the tree, blinking past the blood streaming into her eyes. But she didn't go, hesitating.
“Raelle, just run!”
Run to where? Anywhere that wasn’t here. Where she would be safe from Alder.
She knew Raelle didn’t want to go but she didn’t have a choice. If she was going to survive, she’d have to leave her behind.
“I’m sorry!” Raelle cried.
“Don’t be.”
Abigail turned to face the soldiers rushing their way. She could give Raelle a headstart but after that, she was on her own. She only prayed she’d make it out of the military base. Abigail on the other hand? As long as Raelle was safe, it didn't matter.
Time slowed down when there was nothing to measure. At first Scylla had tried counting the days, letting the numbers rise slowly in her mind. But as time went by, she lost count. It was only a dark room with harsh lights, the cramps down her back and the meal once a day.
She tried counting the meals then but those started becoming infrequent.
They hadn’t tried the glass trick since but she was wary. They probably slipped drugs into her food. Anything to keep her subdued.
Not that she was going anywhere. Scylla had long given up on seeing the outside world. She’d accepted the fact that this prison would be her resting place.
The room creaked, a signal that soon someone else would join her.
“Back for more?” she rasped. “Oh, I’m one spoiled girl, aren’t I?”
But to her surprise, it wasn’t Anacostia or Alder who strode in the door but in fact, people she didn’t recognise.
The hoods marked them as soldiers. Three of them—two dragged an unconscious body while the other carried a chair and chains.
Another prisoner to join her in her lucky dark room. She'd never had a partner.
"Hey," she grinned. "You catch another agent? You guys are getting better."
The soldiers obviously ignored her. They focused on their job. She watched as the other person was chained up similar to her.
"Oh, don't ignore me," Scylla said in a sing-song voice. "I'm very friendly!"
None of the others who entered ever spoke to her except Anacostia or Alder. They were probably under strict orders not to but she always would try. Just for the fun. There was very little to bring her joy but annoying her captors was enough.
She peered at the face of the other prisoner, trying to see past the blood and the bruises. They'd been messed up.
"Not a happy camper there?"
The soldier paused right in front of her and Scylla delighted in the reaction.
The glob of spit hit her arm and without her hands free to wipe it away, it sat on her skin.
"Well, that was rude," she said coolly.
The soldier didn't react and vanished after the others.
For the first time in a while Scylla felt actually angry.
But there wasn't anything she could do.
And she doubted there ever would be anything she could. She was trapped in her for now and unless by some miracle, she wasn't getting out.
Scylla turned her attention to the other person in the room.
It was now she realised she recognised them, beneath the blood and bruising.
"Abigail Bellweather…" Scylla murmured. "Whatever are you in for?"
Abigail's sleep was hazy, and painful.
Nightmarish figures wandered in front of her gaze, obscuring her view. She was running. But now away from something. Towards something.
"Raelle!"
She couldn't see her. Maybe that was for the best. It meant she was safe from the hellish demons chasing her.
"Oi, hey. Wake up."
Abigail collapsed against the ground, and screamed.
Her eyes opened.
"Bellweather! Hey, snap out of it."
Where was she? Bright lights shone from the sides, blinding her temporarily as her eyes adjusted.
Someone was sitting next to her—also the person who'd spoken. She looked over.
"Scylla?" she frowned.
"Hey, Bellweather," Scylla grinned.
Abigail hadn't seen her since the wedding. She knew Raelle had seen her once or twice but not her. So this was where they were keeping her. Where ever here was.
Abigail groaned, a sudden ache spreading through her head. "Where am I?"
"They fucked you up, Bellweather," Scylla chuckled. "What? Don't have Mommy to protect you?"
"You know nothing about me, Ramshorn."
"Maybe. But I do know you'd have to do something really bad to be in here with me. So what was it?" Scylla bounced eagerly in her chair, the chains clinking against each other.
Abigail tested her own wrists unsurprised to feel metal binding them. And from the press on her throat, she wouldn't be singing anytime soon. To be expected. They couldn't have her bursting free with a windstrike.
"Did you disrespect General Alder in public? She can have quite a temper."
Abigail sighed and leaned her head back. She couldn't even see the ceiling; it was so dark.
"Maybe you… bought a balloon! Was it your birthday recently? Oh, don't you know they were banned?"
The situation sucked.
But the pure fact that Raelle wasn't sitting chained next to her was proof that she'd gotten away. At least, she hoped.
"I'm here for the same reason you are," she said quietly.
And that made Scylla go quiet.
Abigail closed her eyes and inhaled. She did wonder if her mother would come down and free her but after everything that went down, she doubted it. Alder had an iron grip on the military. She doubted Petra even knew she was here.
"Raelle," Scylla whispered.
Abigail nodded.
"Spot on."
Of course, she knew that Scylla was also in for much worse but the root of it was Raelle.
"What happened?" Scylla demanded. "Is she okay?"
Abigail cast an eye over at her. "Do I look like I was in any state to find out?"
After giving Raelle time to run, she'd taken on the chasing soldiers. She'd held them off for a few minutes before they beat the living daylights out of her.
"Why? Where is she?"
Abigail chuckled. "If I knew that, they wouldn't need me."
She only prayed she'd found somewhere safe. Deserters managed to dodge the military. Raelle could as well. But for now long? Abigail wished the world was easier but unfortunately, it wasn't.
"Do you love her?" Scylla asked suddenly.
"Of course I do. She's one of my closest friends."
"I didn't mean that way."
Abigail sighed. How she hated that question. A question she'd asked herself many times and refused to answer. But now, now after everything, she knew.
"You still love her, don't you?"
Scylla hesitated but nodded.
"Wow. Fancy that." She really wished she could wipe the dried blood from her face. "Look at the two of us. In for the same woman."
"It was worth it," Scylla said quietly.
And Abigail had to agree.
Another day, another round of torture.
Anacostia's hands were tight on her shoulders as she tried to pry into her mind. But her mind was like an iron box. No matter how hard one could punch it, it wouldn't open.
Didn't mind it didn't hurt like a bitch.
Scylla screamed, the chains digging into her wrists.
"Look, I'm not going to tell you anything," she spat. "Okay? So give it up. Just kill me! Go on! Kill me!"
Anacostia stared at her, eyes unreadable. She often did that—stared at her like she didn't know what to do. And then she turned around and left.
Finally, a breath of relief.
Scylla sighed and leaned against the chair. It was uncomfortable. But any support against the damn migraine she'd received.
"You don't want that," Abigail said, reminding Scylla that she was still in the room.
"What?"
"For her to kill you."
But really, what did she have to live for? The Spree? They'd already made it clear she was an enemy. And the military were never going to accept her.
Only one person came to mind but she was far out of reach. Gone into the wind, vanished, from what Anacostia said to Abigail.
"You know nothing about me, Bellweather," she mimicked.
Abigail said nothing.
Maybe Scylla did want to die. It would be so much easier than spending the last days of her life tortured at the hands of monsters. They'd sold witch kind into slavery. They didn't deserve her.
But then there was hope. Hope that she clung to. Hope that kept her alive.
And that hope was in the heart of someone who wasn't here.
"Why am I the only one getting tortured?" Scylla groaned. "Surely your pretty mind is so interesting."
Anacostia only had a go at Abigail once. Scylla hated the screaming. Was that what she sounded like to Abigail? It was cruel.
"Because unlike you, I have nothing to hide," Abigail said coolly. "I protected Raelle because I love her. I know nothing else."
"Oh yeah. Like I do. The big bad agent of the Spree." Scylla laughed, high and fakely. "What a joke."
Abigail said nothing but she could feel her looking at her. Let her look. They'd nothing else in here besides each other. Might as well get used to it.
"Why did you join the Spree?" Abigail asked.
"For reasons someone like you wouldn't understand."
"Humour me."
Scylla looked at her. And Abigail was serious.
What did she have to lose? If the military was listening in, maybe they'd understand her side a little better. Or maybe it would persuade them to just end her. She didn't know which would be better by now.
"Because I hate Fort Salem. I hate being a pawn when the king doesn't care unless she has her checkmate." Alder hadn't entered the battlefield in over two hundred years, the Spree had told her. Yet in those years, how many died for her? How many had she sacrificed?
"You know, they killed my parents. Right in front of me." She'd never forget the light draining from their eyes, the whispered 'I love you's that faded into the darkness with them.
"I'm sorry."
"You aren't."
Abigail blinked.
"You still hate me. For what happened to your cousin. But I didn't know. There wasn't supposed to be an attack. I… I was supposed to take Raelle-"
"I know."
"No, you don't!"
She'd never gotten to tell Raelle properly but maybe Abigail would do.
"The Spree wants Raelle. I don't know why or what for, but they want her. So at the wedding, I was supposed to bring her to them. But I couldn't. I couldn't do that to her."
"Because you love her."
Her heart sank in her chest, sliding into that empty void she buried her morals in.
"The balloons were coming for me. I was supposed to go missing in the attack. But…" Anacostia got her first.
"Am I meant to feel sympathetic?"
Scylla looked at Abigail.
"You still killed people. You still hurt people."
"I know."
Like her echo, through their cell, they both 'knew'. But did they really?
"Do you even feel sorry?"
"It wasn't supposed to be this way." Scylla whipped her head back to glare at her. "You know nothing about the Spree. Or me. So don't assume you get everything."
"So explain it to me."
"What's the point? It won't change anything."
If Abigail had been able to move, Scylla thought she might have walked in front of her.
"There are layers to the Spree," she sighed. "More than you know. At first it was safety. I was a dodger. I was being hunted. They offered to protect me. I was a kid."
"You still are." A glare. "Continue."
“They pull you in. And then keep you. You owe them now, and they push ideas. Why should we have to fight for the humans who despise us? Why do we die for them?" Scylla hated it. Hated it so much her blood heated just from thinking about it. "They won't respond to anything but violence. It's all they know now. Fight for Alder, kill for Alder. The military."
Abigail said nothing, merely regarded her with new curiosity.
"The Spree aren't good. I know that. But… it's the only way! We just want to be free. Free from-!"
Rage rocked her back and forth, but the chair was unstable. Her rant cut off, Scylla grunted as her shoulder hit the ice cold floor. She'd fallen. Fucking hell.
Abigail leaned over to look at her, brows raised in amusement.
Scylla glared up at her. “Don’t. Say. A. Word.”
Abigail didn’t but she was quite clearly laughing at her. Neither of them could move so she just lay back on the cold ground. They'd pick her up later, but for how she listened to Abigail laugh.
And eventually she laughed too.
“Why do you love Raelle?”
Being locked in a cell day to day meant there wasn’t much to do but talk to each other. Abigail often tried to ignore Scylla’s insistent quips because they often made no sense. She’d been in her for longer than her—maybe she’d lost her mind.
Scylla would often joke at anyone who came into their cell and when they weren’t there, at her.
“Don’t you know why?”
“I know why I do. But why do you?”
The topics they could actually talk about were few and far between. Raelle was one of them.
“You know how she is. Annoying. Passionate. Ridiculously strong. Reckless. Emotional.” Abigail could go on. "But… what I think I fell for was how deeply she loves. But how she pretends she doesn't."
“Does she love you back?”
Abigail scoffed. “Out of both of us, which one is dating her?”
“Was.”
Abigail cast an eye at her but Scylla was staring at the ceiling, eyes shining.
“After everything, there’s no way we’re together. She hates me now. Not that I blame her.” Scylla sighed.
“She still loves you.”
“But now she knows she shouldn’t.”
And unfortunately, Abigail couldn’t argue with that. Raelle had become bitter and sad the last time she saw Scylla. She’d been betrayed.
But she still loved her.
And maybe Abigail was jealous. Her chest tightened.
“When you love someone… you have a blindness to their faults. It can hurt you. But it's also what protects you, in a way."
A wounded heart could kill as easily as a blade.
Scylla looked at her, blinking back tiny tears. She acted tough but in reality, Abigail had come to see she was scared. Scared of what was going to happen. In the darkness, she clung to love like a lifeboat.
Abigail sighed.
Fate was cruel.
The days blurred together.
Scylla wondered if the Spree had gotten what they'd wanted yet. Abigail told her Raelle ran from the military but could she run from the Spree? They were everywhere, saw everything.
She didn't know why they wanted her so badly, except that she was powerful. No one had explained anything to her.
Get the mark. That was it.
And boy, had she gotten the mark.
Scylla's gaze flickered over to Abigail.
She was sleeping, head leaning awkwardly against her shoulder. The chairs weren't exactly designed for comfort.
The Bellweather was pretty, she could see now that the bruises had faded. Only a few days ago—or was it longer? Time wasn't the same in captivity—her face had been swelled and battered. But her eyes traced the soft curve of her nose and along the plains of her cheeks.
She would understand if Raelle loved her too.
The door opened suddenly and Scylla jumped for the first time in months. Had she really been that distracted?
Abigail's eyes fluttered open and she sat up.
A soldier, bringing a meal.
Scylla's stomach ached. They consistently brought Abigail food, probably because of her connections. But her own meals were few and far between. A destructive tactics meant to weaken and desperate her. It wouldn't work.
The soldier passed the tray to Abigail who heartly dug into the mash. She always ate ravenously. Scylla had to wonder if she'd ever gone hungry. High Atlantic, after all. This was a new experience for her.
"Give her some too," Abigail breathed, wiping at her mouth.
"Excuse me?" the soldier frowned.
Scylla blinked in surprise when Abigail nodded towards her.
"Give her some."
The soldier hesitated. "I… I'm only supposed it give it to you-"
"I know. But I want to share it with her."
Scylla met her gaze and was surprised for the first time to see kindness in them. No, not kindness, but an understanding. She wasn't cruel. That was certain about Abigail Bellweather: she wasn't cruel.
Scylla looked away.
"I shouldn't-"
"You're starving her," Abigail suddenly spat, lurching forward in her chair. "Is this the great military you serve? Have a heart!"
Whatever part finally convinced the soldier, Scylla was grateful for it. What a meagre amount but it was more than nothing. Her stomach ached but the food was a blessing for the pain.
She smiled up at the soldier and offered the tray.
"Excellent service, ma'am! I'll be sure to leave a positive review!"
And like usual, that got no response. Not that she expected one. But without her jokes in the dark, she really would go crazy.
When the door closed and the footsteps faded, Scylla glanced at Abigail. "Thank you."
"Don't. You… no one deserves to starve." Abigail leaned her head back, probably to go back to sleep.
Even so, the gesture… touched her. Scylla watched her from the corner of her eye, not sure what she was looking at or for. Nothing. Just watching, she guessed.
Things were different from when they'd first come together. Perhaps an understanding reached. But what a weird little relationship they had.
Abigail hated when they tortured Scylla.
She hated that she remained in the room and had to watch every second, listen to every scream they wrung out of her. Maybe this was why she started feeling sorry for her. A guilt sat in her stomach. That she couldn't help her.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
The army was supposed to be the moral good. They were supposed to protect the innocent and fight the Spree—the great evil of the world.
But torture? Starvation? Cruelty?
This wasn't what she'd dreamed of joining.
Alder's hand gripped Scylla's neck as she forced her to look her in the eye.
"I will ask you again," Alder said coldly. "What are the Spree's plans?"
Again and again, she asked variations of the same question. And again and again, Scylla refused to answer her. They could hurt her all they'd liked but she never said a word.
Anacostia tried prying her way into her mind but now Raelle was gone, her sole weakness, Scylla was an impenetrable fortress.
Didn't mean it didn't hurt.
Abigail looked away as another scream left Scylla's lips.
"Don't you have any empathy, girl?" Alder snarled. "For the people you killed? For how many more will die because of the Spree?"
Scylla looked up, bruised lips curling into a grin. "Do I look like I have empathy? That I care about anyone?"
And for the first time in perhaps weeks, Alder looked at Abigail.
Abigail saw her differently now. The light that once shone had dimmed to a darkened glow. Death walked the immortal road with her, raining down on anyone to block their path. She'd once idolised her. But now she saw the truth.
"Anacostia," Alder announced. "Will you hold your blade to Ms. Bellweather's throat?"
"Excuse me?" Anacostia stumbled over her word.
"You heard me."-
Oh, but Abigail knew Anacostia cared for her. She cared for her whole unit like they were hers. Yet she walked over, slowly as if begging for another order to stop.
Abigail's muscles tensed but she couldn't stop her as the blade was pressed to her neck. It was the flat first, but then Alder told her to turn it. Anacostia didn't want to hurt her—she'd never let herself—but a direct order from Alder was one she couldn't disobey.
"What are you doing?" Scylla demanded. "This is about me, not her."
"Much to Petra's dismay, her daughter has surrendered her life to the military the moment she turned traitor." Alder looked at her once, dismissive. "And she seems to have outlived her usefulness."
Something flickered in Scylla's eyes, breaking past all the layers of crazy. "Wait."
"You've spent months down here with her," Alder murmured, twisting her seat so she faced them. "Do you lack empathy, Scylla? Let's see how true this is."
Alder flicked her hand. "Cut her throat."
"Ma'am-"
"I said do it!"
Anacostia's fingers tightened on her shoulder, the blade wobbling. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Not her fault. She only followed orders.
Like Abigail.
Like Scylla.
The cut was short and sharp, would let her bleed out in just under a minute. Abigail couldn't breathe.
"Anacostia can heal her," Alder said. "So I'll ask again, what are the Spree up to?"
Abigail was drowning. Her blood was hot against her skin, filling her lungs, staining her clothes a vicious red. Her vision blurred as she spluttered, only coming up blood. She wanted to scream, to curse whatever had corrupted the military like this.
They were meant to be the good guys.
How wrong that was.
"I don't know!" Scylla shrieked. "Okay?! I'm only a rookie, I know nothing! If I was important they'd have come for me!"
"Is that true?"
"Yes! I swear! Now save her!"
Alder must have given the order because Anacostia's hand wrapped around her throat in an instant. A cooling sensation surrounded her. And like that, sweet air. Abigail coughed and coughed, forcing whatever blood remained in her lungs out. Fuck. Fucking hell.
Abigail closed her eyes.
"I am disappointed," she heard Alder say. "Rather it is you who has outlived your usefulness. You'll be shipped out tomorrow. And you will not come back."
Scylla didn't answer—or maybe Abigail didn't hear her. Her entire body throbbed.
Maybe the world spun, maybe it didn't. She just wanted to close her eyes and sink into the darkness. It was relaxing. So warm…
"Abigail. Abigail. Abigail!"
Abigail forced her eyes open to see Scylla staring in concern. Alder and Anacostia were gone, leaving just the two of them again.
"Don't tell me you've gone soft, Ramshorn?" she rasped. "It was that easy to break you?"
"I…" Scylla didn't seem to know what to say. "I… I couldn't."
"They're going to kill you, you know? The prison they want to send you to—no one ever comes out. It will be your tomb."
Scylla managed a weak smile. "Better than rotting in here for all eternity."
But where she tried to act confident, Abigail saw the fear. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to suffer. But she'd believed so deeply in her case she'd fought, she'd been willing to fight for it.
Until it came to her.
Abigail sighed.
"Why did you do that?"
"You mean save your life?"
"Yes."
Scylla sighed and looked away from her. "I… I guess I do have empathy." Her voice was small, sounding young.
Interesting. She could give it more thought but Abigail's eyes closed and she sighed. Maybe a nice sleep, a rest. Hell, she deserved it. She couldn't believe the bullshit Alder just pulled. Or maybe she could. She saw too well how corrupt they'd become.
And as she drifted off, she heard one final whisper. She didn't think she was meant to hear it.
"Maybe… maybe I do care…"
Scylla's eyes flew open at the sound of a door opening. What a strange time. After the months, she'd grown used to waking for their torture sessions. What a weird alarm clock, but hey, the body does what the body does.
But then-
"Raelle-" Both she and Abigail gasped it at the same time.
The last time Scylla had seen Raelle she'd been wishing they'd never met. Her heart hurt. Her breath caught. Why was she here?
Raelle immediately ran to free Abigail. That didn't sting. Definitely not.
"What are you doing here?" Abigail gasped.
"Anacostia threw a coup," Raelle said hurriedly. "The whole base is split. It's utter chaos."
Scylla almost laughed. She never thought Anacostia would have the guts to stand against Alder but it appeared she was wrong. She'd like to shake her hand if she made it out alive.
Abigail threw her arms around her, burying her face in her neck. It honestly hurt a bit but then again, soothed. She could make Raelle happy, give her the love she deserved. She'd have Scylla's blessing—not that that meant anything. Scylla knew what she wanted but she also knew what she couldn't have.
Raelle pulled away. "Let's go."
Abigail frowned. "What about Scylla?"
Raelle was still angry, Scylla realised. She'd been hurt, betrayed, lied to, and she didn't blame her for hating her.
"We don't have much time," Raelle began.
"You're going to leave here? They'll kill her."
And for however much Raelle hated her, she didn't want her to die.
Abigail stumbled over to her and started working on the chains on her wrists. Her hands were weak, the months of capture getting to her.
Raelle walked over slowly.
"Hey."
Those pretty eyes she'd fallen for were ice cold now. Hurt. But also hiding the emotions that lingered behind.
Raelle removed the constriction on her throat and nodded. "Don't make me regret this."
And Scylla didn't know what to say. So she said nothing. She didn't want to make it worse.
She lurched forward out of her chair and collapsed onto the ground. Her muscles screamed in pain from disuse.
Abigail looped an arm over her shoulder.
"Hey, Ramshorn," Abigail breathed, lifting her.
"Thank you."
And it seemed Abigail accepted her thanks this time instead of pushing it away.
Raelle came and took her other arm. She didn't say anything. But like two peas in a pod, they fit against each other. Like they weren't meant to be. Scylla could still dream.
"Where are we going?" Abigail asked as they shuffled out.
"Far away from here."
Scylla was far from recovered enough to move but she tried to not be a dead weight. Either way, neither Abigail or Raelle complained.
They emerged in the woods from a hidden bunker. Far from the main base which was good from the sound of things. Explosions sounded the distance, accompanied by the blaze of fire. And screams.
Anacostia went all out, it appeared.
"This way," Raelle whispered. "Quickly."
How much time did they have to leave? How many were fighting? She wondered about Raelle and Abigail's unitmate. The sweet one. Probably right in the thick of it.
Scylla stumbled and collapsed, body spasming against her will. She groaned.
"Scylla!"
It was Abigail she saw first, surrounded by stars in the night sky. Scylla hated that she'd grown to care for her during their months locked together. She also hated that Abigail began to care back.
Fate was cruel and twisted to push them together.
And then Raelle joined her, concern breaking past the shield she'd been putting up. There she was. Abigail had been right. She still loved her.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Alder's been less than kind to her."
"I don't have time to heal her," Raelle said. "Can we carry her?"
Scylla tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
But strong hands lifted her, wrapping her in their warmth.
The world was ruthless, unforgiving, cruel. But maybe for a moment it was kind.
Scylla closed her eyes and let the darkness take her as Abigail and Raelle carried her to safety.