I opened my eyes to soft sunlight warming my face. As pleasant as the sensation, I didn’t welcome how it pierced my eyelids, cutting my rest short. Yawning, I rubbed my eyes, scouring away sleep and reacquainting myself with the present. I sat up in the silky sheets, the down comforter wrapped around me. The events of the last several days rushed into my head, reminding me of exactly where I was, what had happened, and everything that had gone wrong since I left home.

I made fists, anger rising at my situation. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t hurt to do so. I opened my fist, exposing where I’d sliced my palm on the shard of glass. It was perfectly healed, as if there had been no injury at all. I opened my other hand to make sure I hadn’t accidentally forgotten which one it was. My other palm was as fresh and smooth as it should be.

The healer must be alive. I’d witnessed what he could do – they must have had him come while I was sleeping, those little devils. But I sighed in relief. Who knew what his state might be now, but at least he was functional enough for him to heal me last night. It was only explanation that made sense. I clenched my fist again, more determined than I had been before to escape this place and take that healer with me. It almost reminded me of when I’d escaped my own prison at home, my room, through the window. I’d rescued Tomas then, too.

Oh, Tom. If only I knew how you were doing. He said he was going back to the Guild, and I could only hope that the letter I’d written as Queen Selissa’s daughter would be enough to sway them, to give him everything he ever wanted. It was the least I could do. He had gone above and beyond our agreement, sustaining personal injury and putting himself far out of his comfort zone in order to help me achieve my goal. Along the way, we’d even become friends, despite how foul we spoke to each other. I found myself missing his company, his clumsy wit. I missed the laughter that we shared.

I rubbed my eyes again. I desperately needed some clean clothes. I gazed around the sleeping area with eyes half lidded, then spied what looked like a large traveling trunk. Maybe there would be something useful in there.

I opened the trunk and saw only dresses. I sighed; they would have to do. I grabbed one at random and got dressed, discarding my sweaty, slept in clothes that I’d been wearing since I left Hazuzu’s castle. The dress I’d chosen was tight in the bodice but had a loose and flowy skirt, the sleeves long and flowy as well. The neckline was a bit more daring than I would’ve preferred, but it wasn’t as if I had much to expose anyway. And the healer had advised that I get on Zaavi’s good side. Perhaps this was a way to do that. I certainly didn’t look or feel threatening at all in the flowy and delicate champagne colored dress. I grumbled; I preferred the color black to match my hair and often, my mood. But I didn’t have much option unless I wanted to wear disgusting old clothes, which I certainly did not.

Fortunately, this dress did have a very small pocket on the skirt, just big enough for the shard of glass to be tucked away. I fished under my pillow – for that’s where I’d stowed the shard while I slept – and carefully placed it in the new pocket. I still hadn’t decided if I would use it or not, but I felt infinitely better knowing I had some sort of defense, no matter how small or inconsequential it might turn out to be.

I stepped out from behind the divider, deciding that it would be nice to start my day with a book from one of those bookshelves. I’d had my eye on a few.

Someone sat in a chair, not facing me. He, for it was immediately obvious that he was a male, sat at one of the desks, reading something, perhaps one of the books from those very bookshelves. His black hair was too long, straight and shiny, though secured in a short ponytail behind his head. His clothes looked regal, all in black, much like my preferred wardrobe. His skin was dark, a deep warmth beneath the black clothes, complimenting the hues he wore. The pages flicked beneath his fingers occasionally as I watched.

“Hello, princess,” he said.

I jumped, despite the fact that I’d already noticed him there. Apparently, I’d not expected him to speak.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, still not turning away from the book he was reading. “I trust your injuries are healed sufficiently?”

Warily, I answered. “Yes, they are…” I was unwilling to reveal what I thought about the healer. “Are you to thank for arranging that?”

“Of course,” he said. He turned around to reveal a handsome face, a sharp jawline, and piercing green eyes. “I am in charge here.”

This man must be the leader of Zaavi’s followers here. This was the man I would either be stabbing or sucking up to. I hadn’t figured out which one I wanted to do just yet.

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” he said, continuing to stare at me intently.

“I’m not thanking you for shit,” I spat. “It’s your fault I’m here.”

“That may be true,” he purred, “but I’d be honored if you come have a chat with me.”

“I’m not doing fuck-all you ask me to do!” I shouted, my anger growing rapidly. I stomped my feet, clenched my fists, and stared at him with pure rage. The arrogance!

“Then I’ll come to you,” he said, rising from the desk, striding towards me with long legs.

He crossed the room much quicker than I’d anticipated, suddenly invading my personal space with his looming presence. His approach was so rapid, it caused me to stumble backwards. I fell over on the floor onto my backside. He loomed over me, smiling wryly as he watched my discomfort and fear.

“What do you want from me?” I managed to spit out, despite the effect he was having on me.

He kneeled down to my level, barely within reach. With his attention entirely on my face, I managed to put my hand in the dress pocket, fishing around for the shard of glass. I gripped it tightly, drawing more blood. I steeled my expression, hoping I hadn’t given myself away.

“You haven’t put it together yet?” he asked, still smiling. “How disappointing – “

I cut off his speech with a swipe from my hand to his face. My weapon never connected. I stared at the wrist that he gripped tightly, so tight, that I knew it would bruise. Still, I refused to drop the shard of glass.

“You’re fiery, princess,” he said, chuckling.

He pulled me to stand by my wrist. He was so tall – or perhaps, I was so short – that I barely made it past his chest. I allowed him to pull me to stand, then desperately flung myself around, trying to wrestle myself free.

After a moment of thrashing, he had my other wrist captive as well, despite my best efforts. This person was too strong for me, and I was too inexperienced in any sort of combat. As Selissa’s daughter, I’d never been given the opportunity to learn, nor had I ever expressed any interest in the matter. I preferred lounging around with my books, ignoring everything but the stories I dove into. But now, for the first time, I sincerely regret my lack of ambition towards fighting. I wished I’d had any sort of insight as to what my life might have become so that I could’ve prepared better. But it is as they say. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

“I propose we make a deal,” he said, watching me closely. “I’ll teach you to fight.”

“You’ll what?”

“You heard correctly.”

I didn’t respond. How did he know what I was thinking? Were my thoughts that transparent on my face?

“Why on earth would my captor teach me to defend myself?” I said.

“Because I could still overpower you,” he said smugly. “And I can see in your eyes it’s something you desperately want. I give you something, and you give me something. It’s only fair.”

Every word he said to me was complete and utter bullshit. I had to do what he said, probably no matter what it was, due to the nature of my situation. He held all of the power, commanded the guards who kept me here, captured me in the first place. I didn’t know what he would do if I didn’t give him what he wanted, but I was sure it wasn’t good. I didn’t like that glint of anticipation in his eyes.

“So, what is it you want from me?” I asked. It wouldn’t hurt to know what I was getting into.

“Information,” he said plainly. “I want to know all that you know.”

“About?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obviously not, if I’m asking,” I spat.

He chuckled. “I need to know how to get to my sworn enemy. I need actual information, not rumors, or whispers. That’s all I could get while locked away in my magical prison, you know.”

I blinked rapidly. He wasn’t hinting at what I thought he was, was he? But it was ridiculous. “That’s…impossible,” I said breathlessly.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” He released my wrists, allowing me to stand in front of him, bewildered. “And nothing’s impossible. Some things are just… less likely than others.”

I was still dumbstruck by the realization that had just come to light. He had hinted at it earlier, but my willful ignorance had kept me from recognizing what was right in front of me the whole time. He was Zaavi, he had been released somehow, despite whatever magical locks had been in place.

“How?”

“Released early on good behavior,” he said, evading my question with a sarcastic response.

I ignored his jest. He wouldn’t tell me, and that was fine. I could get it out of him, I was sure of it. I could find out what was going on, really. I had to play my cards carefully, and most importantly, I had to alert everyone that Zaavi was fresh out of his prison. But I couldn’t do it with flags waving. I had to be discreet. Tomas, Hazuzu, Selissa… everyone I ever knew was in danger. I remembered the healer’s words. ‘Get on Zaavi’s good side’, he had advised. Perhaps he was right. I was coming to terms with playing along, pretending to let Zaavi win. He wants to look through me to find out what I know? Well, two can play at that game. If you stare into the abyss, sometimes, the abyss stares back.

And it might not like what it sees.