Book 11: Loose Tongue

Misty

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

I open my eyes to darkness, blinking it away. My body aches like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, but I’m alive. I’m alive, and in a dungeon. 

I rise to my knees, crawling to the bars that separate me from a dingy, damp hallway lit by flickering torches. 

I hesitate before gripping the bars, but it’s iron, not silver, thank the Goddess. I’m not sure how much more I can take… wait a minute. 

I lift my wrists to the torchlight. Twin silver bands–wide, and seamless–hug each wrist. They’re no chains between them. Nothing keeping me bound to the wall. Manacles. I immediately try to pull them off, but I can’t. It doesn’t hurt, though. I wedge a pinky between my skin and the manacle on my left wrist and feel… leather? Some type of barrier between the silver and my skin. 

Still, even without the silver resting directly against me, it’s close enough to keep my powers at bay. My fingert